#vault girl design

[catsandbats13]

My bf requested I draw Vault Girl in these specific poses

I’ve never played Fallout myself but I have watched the Fallout Monster Factory videos about a million times lol

Directly referenced from the Vault boy icons

[tsuchinokoroyale]

If nautical nonsense be something you wish 🎶

[technovillain]

the yoinky sploinky

[gingergari]

i was busy on the actual day (it was my dad’s birthday!) but tako yaki’s birthday was on the 21st!

[vaultgirl2077]

Whiskey Rose 🥃🌹

[coenubiaseraph]

Ah yes, father and son doodles. Featuring a side of "Why do I like drawing Krill that much"

[fandom-space-princess]

now if only Supergiant could find it in their character designers' hearts to let Melinoë wear some gotdang pants

[whycolour]

Kids Room Bedroom in Los Angeles

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Teen Villain Alliance

Chapter 1 - Damian

Despite his proficiency in the skill, Damian hated spying on the Teen Villain Alliance. 

Having appeared two years ago in alliance with Klarion Bleak, the Teen Villain Alliance, or TVA, quickly made themselves known as little more than pests, often rushing in to assist other young adult criminals or harass Justice League officials. Father wanted to investigate when they first appeared, but with Todd’s reveal and Damian himself coming to take his place as Robin, he’d been… busy. 

Which allowed the TVA to flourish into a respected criminal enterprise. No vault was safe, no hero strong enough. A group had even banded together to take down Superman! And while there was no lasting damage other than some bizarre markings on the Kryptoian’s face, it was enough to prove these teenagers as a threat. 

Damian, as much as it galled him, was not the first chosen to infiltrate. Martian Manhunter, shapeshifted into a meta fourteen-year-old girl, tried and was identified as a hero on sight. The Teen Titans and Young Justice got closer, actually able to talk to the villains about joining, but “it was like they could smell the hero on us,” Beast Boy had explained. “I don't know how else to explain it.”

Most likely, the TVA kept tabs on the Justice League and affiliated organizations. They needed someone fresh, someone who wasn’t a hero.

Damian had been more than willing to volunteer. 

Introducing himself as Damian Al Ghul, the recently escaped Heir to the Demon Head, he’d been accepted immediately despite having approached the group mid-heist. All he had to do was extrapolate about how Grandfather’s assassins were chasing him, and the Wolf—a designation given to the members of the TVA’s inner circle—allowed him to join, but he was forced to stay with the hacker of the group while the heist commenced with no interference from a hero.

Damian had been confident. He’d gotten so far in mere minutes when a member of the Justice League, and even Drake, couldn’t get past the first few questions. He’d have the Teen Villain Alliance dismantled within the week.

Then Manson, as the Wolf had introduced herself, took out a device that transported them all to another dimension. Which was where the main base of the Alliance was. And none of his communication devices or trackers worked there. 

Damian had only been able to update the Justice League a few times since his tenure as a spy began. Superman had reassured him it was fine, that there had been plenty of missions were communication was infrequent, but after a month of living in the TVA Base in the Infinite Realms, Damian hated not being able to contact his father easily. And in return, Father and Drake had taken to interrogating him for as long as possible the couple of times he was outside Headquarters. 

(Phantom’s Haunt is what the TVA members called it. It was Phantom Dark’s home that he opened up to them all. Damian didn’t know how to feel about that.)

Damian had only been able to contact Father three times in his four weeks undercover, each time on a supply run… which was essentially just a grocery trip for the Haunt. The first time Damian had slipped away to the bathroom and called, Father had been… furious. He’d thought Damian’s lack of updates was on purpose. It had been five minutes before Damian could correct him. 

He wished Grayson had answered during any of his updates, but he was on a mission in space and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks. 

In those four months, Damian was still the newest member, and had yet to be involved in the truly illegal aspects of the organization. All the information he’d gathered purely administrative, like how Duulaman, a reincarnated pharaoh turned hacker, stole money from various billionaires and government organizations to fund their plans. He’d yet to be involved with anything serious. 

He wasn’t allowed on serious missions either. He only had the supply runs to look forward to, and those only occurred once a month. 

His other objective, to undermine the Teen Villain Alliance and spur a mutiny, was also going poorly. The children he surrounded himself with were fanatically loyal to the Alliance, citing Phantom and his harem as the reason they were alive today. Even those who weren’t directly rescued were loyal. One such child, a boy named Kyd Wyckyd, had confessed to turning to a life of crime due to his terrifying meta abilities and their effects on his appearance. 

But the TVA took him in after the collapse of HIVE Academy. He hadn’t participated in a crime since, preferring to work with the Wolf named Jasmine who led individual and group therapy sessions for the villains. Jasmine had tried multiple times to convince her therapy sessions—more like brainwashing sessions—but Damian had stayed strong in the face of adversary. 

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much more Damian could do. He tried to push, to get involved with the criminal aspect of the organization, but the Wolves blocked him at every turn, saying he was “too young.” That he needed “stability” and to “rely on them to keep him safe.”

Perhaps Damian oversold the danger of the League of Assassins. 

For now, Damian hid in his room in Phantom’s Haunt. His castle. Even the magnificence of the compound he grew up in couldn’t compare to the headquarters. There were an infinite number of rooms—”as many as we need,” Phantom had told him—that changed based on the user’s preferences. Right now, Damian’s room looked like a cave. The Batcave, to be precise, though he didn’t allow references to his Father and legacy. 

He was hiding because Manson had suggested he attend some of the classes held in the libraries—there were four libraries at the moment. Classes were taught by ghosts under Phantom’s control and weren’t mandatory, but “everyone’s worried about the lack of structure in your life.”

He tried to tell himself it was because he didn’t want to be brainwashed by Phantom’s lackeys, and that he already knew everything they were going to teach. But in truth… Damian was anxious. Attending school at the Haunt felt too permanent, too much like he was planning to stay. He hadn’t gotten the choice to attend school back in Gotham, with Father acting like he would compromise their identities around children. He wasn’t that petty. 

Someone knocked on his door. “Damian? Are you inside?” 

Sighing, Damian stood up and opened the door. “Dr. Fenton. Am I needed for anything?”

Dr. Daniel Fenton was another Wolf, another member of the harem Phantom had built around him, twenty years old and not an actual doctor but everyone called him that anyway. While Damian had yet to see Fenton and Phantom in the same place, Damian was keeping a detailed record of how the Wolves’ polyamourous relationship worked. Phantom and Fenton both dated Manson and Duualman, though they didn’t seem to be dating each other or Jasmine. Klarion often inserted himself into those relationships for hugs and hand-holding, but only seemed to kiss Jasmine. 

“Actually, yes.” Damian’s lips parted in surprise. “I wanted to talk to you about something down in my lab. Would you join me?”

Fenton’s lab was off-limits to low level members of the TVA. He was the engineer, the creator of all their weapons of destruction. Fenton had no minions, while Manson had her thieves, Duualman had his hackers, Jasmine had her helpers, Klarion had his witches, and Phantom had his fighters. 

Fenton was alone. 

Isolated. 

Damian agreed. 

Fenton led him to the depths below the castle, past the never-used dungeon and through a secret door into a surprisingly bright and airy lab. He caught Damian looking through a window that displayed one of the Haunt’s many gardens, an impossible feat for being so far underground. “Magic castle, remember,” Fenton chided him. “Those work as portals that lead to the garden too, so it’s an easy one-way exit.”

Damian scoffed, abashed that he’d been caught so easily. From a glance, the lab was perfectly maintained, with every piece of equipment assigned to an outline meant to indicate where it belonged. As he walked further into the room, Fenton made slight adjustments to his tools, meticulously shifting them back into place. It looked more like a set than a laboratory. 

But then, Damian observed Fenton. The twenty-year-old relaxed as he put his space back into order, nudging the screwdrivers and beakers back into their designated outlines. As he worked, the sleeve of his lab coat road up, revealing a glimpse of lichtenberg scars before it was hidden again. 

Finally done, Fenton turned back to Damian. “My sister, Jazz, has told me that you’re not attending individual or group therapy sessions, is that correct?”

Well, that revealed a  lot of information. Ignoring the fact that Fenton and Jasmine were apparently siblings, Damian replied, “I do not see a reason to attend. If this meeting is an attempt to force me–”

Fenton held his hands up in surrender. “No, I would never. Therapy doesn’t work if the person receiving it doesn’t want it. But you haven’t been attending any of your classes either, and Phantom has mentioned that you don’t hang out with the other kids. Are you settling in alright? I know the others are a few years older than you, so it might be harder for you to connect with them.”

Damian chewed on the question. While part of him was furious that someone, especially a villain like Fenton, was concerned about him and discussed him with his fellows, the other part… wasn’t. It was true; he was having difficulty connecting with the villains. Damian didn’t particularly want to, but it would make his mission easier. 

He chose a neutral answer. “In the League of Assassins… I was the only child in the entire compound. Other children weren’t allowed inside, not unless their parents did something wrong. And those children…”

“Were used against their parents?” Fenton offered when he struggled to find the words. 

“Precisely. It’s not in my nature to associate with children.”

Fenton nodded in understanding, stroking his chin in thought. “That does present a conundrum alright. How unfortunate; the task I needed your help with requires you to interact with at least some of the others, but if you’re that uncomfortable with the idea, then I could find someone else.”

Damian stared at the man in suspicion. “What task?” he demanded to know. If this was a way to get more information for father, he needed to know. But if this was another trap to get him into therapy…

“You’ve probably noticed by now, but I’m the only Wolf without someone working under me. Sam has her Bats, Tucker has his Flies, Jazz has her Rats, Klarion has his Strays, and Phantom has the TVA as a whole. The others have been pressuring me to create my own group, but babysitting a group of teens in a lab where anything could explode is just asking for trouble.”

Damian stepped away from the nearest device. Fenton continued, “However, I think a group dedicated to investigation would work much better. Here in the Infinite Realms, we’re very isolated from the human world, so my research on competing inventors is always lacking. Tuck and Sam help, but Tucker has his own hacking projects, and Sam targets financially viable targets instead of labs.”

“You want me to be a member of your new… group?” Damian read in between the lines of what Fenton was saying. Surely Father would be proud of him for gaining information about Fenton’s inventions and targets—

“I want you to lead the group.”

His glare dropped right off his face in shock. “Lead?” he whispered. 

“That’s right,” Daniel agreed. “It’s not conventional and I barely got the others to agree, but Damian, you’re one of the best trained villains to ever join the TVA. Yeah, you’re really young, but you are serious and professional. To be honest, most of the kids we take in don’t take our work seriously. It’s not a bad thing, but I need a leader who is willing to keep their group in line. Infiltration and information gathering can be very dangerous, and I need someone who can keep the team safe.”

Daniel trusted him enough for that? Father didn’t trust him enough to be his partner; honestly, Father didn’t even trust him enough to introduce Damian to the world as his son! Perhaps he was aggressive towards the interlopers in his home, but he wasn’t going to stab a civilian!

And while Damian didn’t understand why Daniel was so cautious around what amounted to breaking and entering, he wanted Damian to lead. He trusted Damian for that. 

And Damian was going to take back whatever information Fenton revealed back to his father, like a hunting dog to its master. 

Daniel continued, “Of course, this is still a few months off from being necessary. But that should give you plenty of time to attend some classes to prepare you more! One on leadership skills, one on modern technology, one on basic magic and wards, maybe a refresher on hacking… Knowing you, you’ll test out of them in a few weeks, but the main point is to find other people to join our team. I’m looking for four other team members, and while I am looking for certain traits and skills, it's up to you to decide who you want on the team.” Daniel placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “So, what do you think?”

He’d betray Daniel by saying yes. He’d betray Father by saying no. 

He made his choice. 

Damian looked up at Daniel, determination set into his face. “I won’t let you down.”

Daniel smiled. “I know you won’t. You couldn’t if you tried.”

[femreader]

♯┆love wears designer .ᐟ smau

summary: stockholm based designer, a model and a f1 driver

pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!designer!reader x alexandra stmleux

warnings: homophobic comment, usual media

dont repost/translate my work on other platforms, everything is fiction and correlations to people and/or places are purely coincidental (slay enjoy)

author: i am so new in f1 world so please correct me if stuff is wrong ily hope you enjoy

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

INSTAGRAM STORY

y/n.official posted a story

yourbff: design me something I beg

y/n.official: always for you babes 💋

user1: new collab when?

user2: i need new thingggss i beg

user3: i will sell my kidney for a bag

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official leisure pleasure (and some work)

liked by sydney.sweeny, yourbff, voguestockholm and others

comments

user1: mother is mothering

user2: i miss her lover era the things we got

user3: i dont those ex-guys can choke

yourbff: pretty as always

y/n.official: älsklingggg 😭

sydney.sweeny: i miss you

y/n.official: next month. you and me and drinks

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful <3

liked by y/n.official

user4: overrated jesus christ

user5: move along bitchy boi

user6: foaming at the mouth

user7: omg i cant believe i got to meet you

user8: i am going to be so calm when I ask WHATTTT

user7: i was on vacay in Stockholm and saw her at a cafe she was the sweetest omg

user7: i was like ’i’m so sorry to interrupt’ she just put everything down and gave me all her attention for the whole time and I almost died

y/n.official: you were so sweet 🤍

user8: peoples princess 😭😭

bill.skarsgård: the whole family misses you

y/n.official: missing you guys more ❤️

user9: very demure very mindful

y/n.official: i dont know what this means 😭😭😭

more comments

MESSENGER

INSTAGRAM

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful weather and beautiful people. Biggest thanks to y/n.official for saving me from a total wardrobe malfucntion!! <3

liked by y/n.official, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc and others

comments

user1: god has favorites 😫

user2: 💚💚💚

user3: that's?? a vault piece??👀

user4: THANKYOU! I thought i was going crazy

user3: since when has y/n give stuff from the vault i need them

user5: money talkssss....

user6: yea or she just wanted to impress rich people

user7: she's alrady one of the most succesful designers of her generation, it’s not like there’s a lot she has to do to impress anyone😒 stay mad

y/n.official: you look beautiful älsklinggg, i had the best time altercating this to your preferances 💕

alexandrasaintmleux: come by again when youre in monaco, charles is jealous he didnt get anything

charlesleclerc: ALL I'M SAYING I'D LIKE TO GET CUSTOM Y/N BAG

y/n.official: deep breaths, i'll see what i can do 😗

liked by charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux

user8: and all I'm saying charles deffo could jsut order one online instead of mentioning it under y/n's comments....

charlesleclerc: always so beautiful mon ange ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: ❤️❤️❤️

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INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: nordic f1 track whenn? Thank you scuderiaferrari for having me over, I'll design you new helmets anytime <3

liked by yourbff, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and others

comments

yourbff: nvm me just crying in my toyota odyssey

y/n.official: girl youre sitting on my couch eating my ice cream

user1: omg are two of my lives colliding?

use2: älskar dig så mycket ääääää

scuderiaferrari: pleasure having you, please design the next helmet so carlos and charles can stop pestering us

y/n.official: copy that 🫡

alexandrasaintmleux: so lovely to see you again

y/n.official: you too babes! we need to go get drinks again

charlesleclerc: what about meee

y/n.official: fine. you can join i suppose.

charlesleclerc: I suppos- I WON ???

user3: ...."again?"

user4: im telling yall but none of you are ready

user5: ily y/n!

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: tack så mycket stockholm, once again. It’s always an honor to be part of your pride. LOVE IS LOVE IS LOVE

liked by yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux, omarrudberg and others

yourbff: love is love and everyone thinking otherwise can fuck off

liked by y/n.official

omarrudberg: <3

liked by y/n.official

alexandrasaintmleux: beautyyy

charlesleclerc: waiting for that bag

alexandrasaintmleux: timeout, phone down

charlesleclerc: ....sorry 😔

charlesleclerc: y/n.official you look beautiful cheri <3

liked by y/n.official

user1: charles is so under their feet lmao

user2: or down bad

user3: both

liked by carlossainz and pierregassly

user4: 👀👀

INSTAGRAM

charlesleclerc: Quick get-away between races

liked by scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux, y/n.official and others

user1: omg travel leo

user2: THAT'S GAMLA STAN THAT'S STOCKHOLM HOLD ON

user3: lmao you sure?

user2: lmao yea, i live in the damn neighborhood 🙄

user4: just saying y/n.official is based there and was for a fact there too just now for stockholm pride

y/n.official: told yall would love fika-ing 🤭

y/n.official: cuties

liked by charlesleclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful baby boys

y/n.official: and an angel i see 👀

alexandrasaintmleux: stop trying to make me blush

y/n.official: but it's so adorable

charlesleclerc: then there's two of you

user5: ?????

user6: ahsgfs oh my god they’re flirting on main

user7: idk if i saw them but i think i saw leo looking dog in the kungsträdgarden

user8: i need my poly girl y/n happy again pls 😭😭

user9: yall people can be just friends 🙄

MESSENGER

MESSENGER

INSTAGRAM STORY

y/n.offical posted a story

yourbff: are you in monaco and didnt tell me

user1: stop trying to convert normal people

user2: mmmmhhmmm i see

yourbff: do not leave me on read bitch (affectionately)

y/n.official: teehee mind your biz (affectionately)

y/n.official: yea i am

yourbff: i want invites to the wedding

yourbff: i also coin coming up with chalexyn

INSTAGRAM

USweekly: Stockholm based designer Y/N Y/L/N's upcoming winter collection attracted full house to the fashion show held in Stockholm. Designer herself could be seen with fresh new hair reigning in the show, hardly showing attention to the guests. Recent speculations between the designer, Formula One driver Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux have kindered, although none have been confirmed or denied.

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

user1: jesus christ let woman work

user2: ikr it's not like she has a whole ass fashion show to co-ordinate

user3: i love how sydney is always where y/n.official's shows are

user4: sydney's said many times she loves her brand because Y/N allows altercations to pieces it's so cute

user5: can i now freak out that charles and alex where there too

user6: yea but they hardly interacted with y/n

user7: you dont exactly stand around when your brand is having a fashion show bruh

more comments

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official:

i love you my team, my incredibly talented models, my friends and family who have been a continious support in making this winter's collection. My biggest and heartfelt thank you's go to you and my incredible fanfollowing who never cease to amaze me with your love, support and concern.

I love my job. I am grateful for what I have and proud how I have gotten here. Each piece is the work of hours and hours of love, dedication and passion from multiple people. They stand for uniquity amongst people, courage to be yourself and love all around us. Every collection we've made is special to me, but this one just a clip above the rest.

Therefore, me and my team proudly present Y/N design's Winter collection 2024:

Love wears Designer.

liked by charleslecler, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and others

yourbff: so incredibly proud of you, min favorit tjej <3

user1: all i do is cry on this app 😩😩😩😩

user2: y/n can stomp on me, skin me alive, sew a dress from my skin, wear it and reuse my teeth are accesories and i'd thank her🫵🏼

charlesleclerc: always so proud of you mon cheri <3

y/n.official: thank you min skatt

alexandrasaintmleux: my best girl, congratulations for this. So so proud.

y/n.official: thank you both for supporting me every step of the way <3

user3: their comments!!?? 😭🤍

user4: this was not just a launch. IT WAS HARD LAUNCH. im telling yall

sydney.sweeny: loved the show, loved the pieces, i am so proud of you as always!

liked by y/n.official

more comments

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: my muses ❤️ charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux

liked by charleslecler, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and others

alexandrasaintmleux: thank you for all you've given us. We love you, our incredible skcetcher

liked by y/n.official, charlesleclerc

charlesleclerc: I love you my girls

liked by y/n.official, alexandrasaintmleux

y/n.official: you two are making me cry. Jag älskar er så mycket. Thank you ❤️

yourbff: fuuuuuucking finally

yourbff: happy for you all 🤍

liked by y/n.official

charlesleclerc: still waiting on that bag

y/n.official: check your backseat 😇

charlesleclerc: both of you get back from the brunch. right now.

comments are restricted

author: teehee im dabbling in smau’s in hibernation

[theminecraftbee]

iskall propaganda post: if you are going “geez, I want to watch a new hermit”, this is the GOLDEN AGE to get into iskall85.

in general, he has a very good sense of humor that’s a combination of pure silliness, mean girl energy, and dry humor, and I think his voice is nice. he’s also just here for a good time; there are very few iskall episodes where he doesn’t make himself crack up a little at least ONCE. he’s corny and goofy and as I said, a little playfully mean, and he’s FANTASTIC.

in his episodes, he has a fun editing style that often focuses on comedic timing and a fun energy, and if you have liked people like the boatem crew in the past, this makes him a good hermit for getting into. he’s also stated a goal for the season of less focusing on projects, more just having fun with his friends, so if you’re a big fan of big goofy collabs, you’ll LOVE “iskall and stress make each other lose their minds for ten straight minutes” or “whatever that base thing was from today, iskall that was hilarious and also I feel bad you have to live there now”.

however, this is the iskall golden age, yes? so you do not just have his episodes! if you’re a fan of people like doc or xb, who do long mostly uncut footage, can I introduce you to vodskall85? despite the name, this channel isn’t just stream footage; indeed at this point maybe less than a quarter of it is stream footage. instead, it’s mostly “behind-the-scenes” footage, or uncut bits he couldn’t put in his episode! want to see the full uncut take of group caving? want to see a hilarious demise bit? want to see iskall waffling at the audience about game design? want to see whatever etho and iskall have going on these days? vodskall is PERFECT for everyone who wants a taste of uncut hermitcraft joy in their lives!

and as an additional aside: iskall has been struggling with burnout for some time, which is why he hasn’t been around much the past two seasons. he’s also struggled with mental health due to being a Public Guy On The Internet, his comments having for a bit been notoriously bad. however, thanks to hermitcraft vault hunters, he’s reinvigorated and ready to go, and I’m SO EXCITED to see more iskall hermitcraft content! he’s one of my top hermits, and seeing so much iskall stuff lately has been so nice. and I’d love to help see more!

so what I’m saying is: GO WATCH ISKALL HE’S SO COOL! YOU WON’T REGRET IT,

[gremlingottoosilly]

Now, Fallout!AU for Raider!Konig and fem!Reader...

Konig as a raider. Your typical one - wall of meat, muscles, mean motherfucker who doesn't really care who to kill and who to fuck after. It might be from one of the less drug-addicted gangs, most of the shit never works on him anyway. Might be radiation, might be mild mutation - no one cares. He isn't a leader of the gang, never good at working with people and commanding them - but he is good at shooting people and taking their stuff. He is good at spotting and sniping, despite people around laughing at his huge form scrambling behind a stolen sniper riffle. This is how he spots you, actually. A vault dweller - this much is obvious. You can lead him to your stash, a can deep in the ground. Filled with people, vault-dwelling rats - the ones that are too fucking good for this place. Konig thinks he hates them - but honestly, half of the wasteland does. You do look good in that tight suit of yours. Bright blue on the dry yellow of the ground below. he wondered who designed the suits - if people knew that every dumb underground rat would be spotted from at least 3 kilometres away in that bright blue thing. Works for him, though. He flips off the guy who didn't want to spot for his position. His rank in the gang is high enough to just get a guy by his neck and force him on guard duty - all while he is getting ready to catch the little rat. It was a while since he saw someone so pretty - honestly, only Vault dwellers can be considered pretty at this point. Clean skin, moderately clean hair. He knows that if he gets to smell you, you'd have this awesome stench of cleanliness. Would be lovely to push his nose into your hair as he fucks you on his bunk. Might even clean his room a bit so the underworld princess won't be too disgusted at the perspective of being chained to his bunk. A prized property. Pretty helpless thing.

Konig drags you to the compound with ease. You're too startled at the sight of a giant hooded man approaching you with a very mean gun on his hip - not even in his hands, since he is confident he can snap your neck with just two fingers. You whine like a brain calf being split in two at some posh casino far in New Vegas - he brushes his hand over your ass, gripping it. Patting it. You do have a weapon - he disposes of it now, just getting it to his pocket. You freeze when he takes your pip-boy off, snapping it off your wrist with ease. You mouth a little plead with your lips. Konig laughs. You have a Vault location in here - it's funny how such a silly thing is going to be the doom of your people. The gang leader would probably be sad they didn't get to torture you for information, but Konig is making sure the whole gang will be satisfied hearing your moans and cries the whole night. Everyone knows that Konig is a beast - and that if they try to get the leftovers of a pretty Vault girl, they will be used as a target practice next. You do smell good. Konig takes note of breaking into some abandoned building and trying to fetch water and cleaning supplies so you could continue to smell nice. Wants to doll up his pretty Vault snatch - even finds some old, pre-war dresses. Plays house as long as gang allows it. Some of the younger members give you a pitied look, hearing your little sobs every time Konig forces you to move. Some of the older members know that the moans you're letting out aren't the ones of pain. Konig isn't the one to share and to talk, so he never even brags about his girl. Just has her attached to his hip, clinging to his armor since he is the only one who you know here. At least you know him, somehow. At least you know he likes his pretty Vault rat too much to let you get hurt. By anyone but him, that is.

[aeralux]

"My Queen" - Rhaenyra Targaryen

Summary: House Tully has pledged allegiance to The Blacks in support of Queen Rhaenyra. You, Lord Tully's daughter, happen to be the one to deliver an urgent message from your father regarding the upcoming war. The Queen is very appreciative of your support and she intends to show it.

Warnings: SMUT; reader is a Tully but no descriptive language is used (f! reader); power kink; queen kink; LESBIAN SEX; fingering, oral; praise kink (sweet girl is used quite a bit); talks about war (nothing graphic or sad happens)

Word count: 6.2k

-- aera xx

The grand observatory at Dragonstone was a sanctuary of wonder, its high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of stars, constellations, and Targaryen lore. Massive telescopes lined the walls, alongside shelves filled with celestial charts, journals, and sketches. The soft twilight glow poured through the large windows, casting a radiant light that flickered across polished wooden floors and illuminated the drifting motes of dust in the air. The scent of aged paper and polished brass filled the room, a comforting aroma for those passionate about the mysteries of the universe.

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen stood by a large circular table in the centre of the observatory, an elaborate scroll detailing the movements of the stars unfurled before her. Clad in a flowing gown of deep red and black, the colours of House Targaryen, it was embroidered with delicate designs that twinkled like the night sky. Her silver hair, a distinctive mark of her bloodline, cascaded elegantly over her shoulders, accentuated by a shimmering tiara that reflected the dim light.

Rhaenyra's violet eyes scanned the ancient scroll eagerly, absorbing the knowledge within. The footsteps resonated through the observatory, drawing her attention as the heavy wooden doors creaked open.

A guard entered, accompanied by you. The guard cleared his throat and announced, "Your Grace, you have a visitor." Rhaenyra carefully rolled up the scroll and turned to the guard, offering a gracious smile and a nod.

"Thank you. You may leave us," she replied, her voice gentle yet commanding, resonating with the authority of a queen. The guard bowed and exited, leaving you in the celestial chamber. Rhaenyra regarded you for a moment, her expression warm and curious. "What brings you to my observatory? Would you care for a cup of wine?" she inquired, her smile inviting while her keen gaze revealed her sharp intellect and royal demeanour. A sense of warmth enveloped her, almost maternal, as Rhaenyra glanced down fleetingly to admire the intricate details of the table’s carvings.

"My Queen," you proclaimed devotedly, lowering yourself in a respectful bow before her, fully aware of the majestic aura that surrounded the beautiful Targaryen woman. Her silver hair shimmered like moonlight, and her piercing violet eyes seemed to hold the weight of the realm within them. 

"I have travelled from Riverrun with pressing news. A raven has been sent, bearing tidings from my family. They have informed me that House Tully is prepared to lend their support. They will muster an impressive force of 15,000 men and ensure that our cavalry is well-supplied with provisions for the challenging days ahead. While it is true that we may lack substantial military strength in comparison to other houses, our lands are remarkably fertile and bountiful, capable of sustaining our efforts."

You straightened, standing with poise, allowing the gravity of your words to settle in the air.

Rhaenyra listened intently as you delivered the news, her violet eyes focused and attentive. The Queen nodded slowly, processing the information with her characteristic sharp intellect. "15,000 men and cavalry supplies, that's a substantial contribution," she mused, her voice soft yet carrying an underlying tone of authority. "House Tully's support will be invaluable in the trials ahead."

She rose from her seat, the rich fabric of her gown swishing as she moved. Rhaenyra approached you, her steps measured and graceful, the click of her heels against the stone floor echoing in the spacious library. As she drew near, Rhaenyra reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Her touch was warm, conveying a sense of gratitude and comradery.

"Your family's loyalty and dedication to the cause are truly appreciated," Rhaenyra said, her violet eyes meeting yours."In these tumultuous times, every ally counts, and House Tully stands strong among them."

Rhaenyra's gaze shifted to the window, where the sun's rays danced upon the distant waters of Blackwater Bay. A pensive expression crossed her face, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "The road ahead will be fraught with challenges," she admitted, her voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "But with the support of houses like yours, we shall weather the storm."

Turning back to you, Rhaenyra offered a reassuring smile, her demeanour regal yet approachable. "I am grateful for your presence here. Your words have brought me comfort and renewed determination." She gestured towards a plush velvet armchair nearby, inviting you to sit. "Please, join me. I would hear more of your thoughts and any other news from the Riverlands."

As you took a seat, Rhaenyra poured two goblets of rich, red wine from a decanter on the table. She handed one to her guest, raising her own in a toast. "To the strength of our alliance and the triumph of justice."

You couldn't help the crimson blush that warmed your cheeks as you sat beside her, the epitome of grace and authority. Her presence was commanding and enchanting, filling the air with an intoxicating blend of confidence and charm. With an air of elegance, she extended the goblet of wine towards you, and as you accepted it, your fingers brushed against hers—an electric spark igniting between you, sending a shiver down your spine at the touch of her velvety skin.

It felt almost foolish to be so affected by something seemingly insignificant, yet the moment held a weight that surpassed mere physical contact. You stole a glance at her, the delicate way she held herself, and the glint of mischief in her eyes, making your heart race.

"Thank you, my Queen," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as if speaking louder would break the spell that enveloped you. You lifted the goblet to your lips, allowing the deep, luscious nectar to roll over your tongue. With your eyes closed in reverie, you savoured the rich taste of the wine, feeling its warmth spreading through you, reminiscent of the warmth emanating from her very presence. It was a moment suspended in time, a blend of indulgence, admiration, and undeniable attraction that left you yearning for more.

Rhaenyra observed the faint blush that coloured your cheeks, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. She could sense the effect her presence had on the young woman, and while a part of her revelled in the power she held, another part felt a twinge of sympathy. The burdens of leadership are not for the faint of heart, she mused silently, her violet eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and understanding.

As their hands brushed during the exchange of the goblet, Rhaenyra felt the brief contact send a subtle jolt through her body. She quickly composed herself, maintaining her regal bearing, but the fleeting sensation lingered in her mind. Focus, Rhaenyra, she chided herself, pushing the thought aside to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"The wine is from the vineyards of Highgarden," Rhaenyra remarked, taking a sip from her goblet. The rich, robust flavour danced on her tongue, a pleasant contrast to the weighty matters they discussed. "Lord Tyrell was kind enough to share it as a gesture of goodwill." She paused, a flicker of irony crossing her features. "Though I suspect it was more a ploy to curry favour than a genuine act of friendship."

As she took a sip from her goblet, Rhaenyra's violet eyes never left your face, studying the younger woman with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. "You seem... flustered," she observed, her voice a low, melodious purr. "Is something troubling you?"

Rhaenyra leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table, her chin propped on her interlaced fingers. The gesture was casual, almost intimate, a stark contrast to her usual regal demeanour. Her silver hair fell in soft waves around her face, catching the light and shimmering like starlight.

Caught off guard by her question, your lips parted in surprise. "No, my Queen, just the war... it seems to be taking its toll on me as well," you muttered, trying to convince yourself as much as her. It would be utterly improper to admit that her touch had sent a chill running along your back, leaving you flustered.

You took another sip of wine, hoping to compose yourself. The rich, velvety liquid slid down your throat, but it did little to calm the sudden racing of your heart. You met Rhaenyra's piercing violet gaze, her eyes seeming to see right through you, to the core of your being. A faint blush still lingered on your cheeks, betraying your inner flusteredness.

You cleared your throat, determined to regain your composure. "My family's support is unwavering, my Queen. We stand with you, now and always," you declared, your voice steady despite the confusion within. You would not let your foolish infatuation cloud your judgment or dishonour your house. You were a Tully, and you would remain strong, even in the presence of such an attractive and assertive woman.

Rhaenyra's violet eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze intense and searching as she studied your face. She could sense the younger woman's discomfort, the soft blush that coloured her cheeks, the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly around the stem of the goblet. It was a reaction Rhaenyra knew all too well, a mix of nerves and attraction, a dance of desire and propriety.

She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed yet queenly, a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of her lips."The war weighs heavily on us all," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper, as if sharing a secret. "But we must not let it consume us, lest we lose sight of what we fight for."

Rhaenyra's gaze drifted to the window, where the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The light danced across her face, highlighting the strong lines of her jaw, and the delicate curve of her cheekbones. She turned back to you, her eyes gleaming with a newfound intensity.

"Tell me," she began, her voice low and husky, "what is it that you truly desire? Beyond the battlefield, beyond the politics and the power plays, what sets your heart ablaze?" Rhaenyra's question hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once, her violet eyes locked with yours, a silent understanding passing between them.

You offered a soft smile, your gaze dropping to your lap for a moment as you sought to compose your swirling emotions. The air around you felt heavy with unspoken words, and finally, you broke the silence. "Love," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "isn't that what most people are truly searching for? A tender heart to hold in their arms and someone to care for deeply."

As you spoke, a wistful melancholy settled over you, like a raindrop trailing down a windowpane. The thought of an impending war loomed like a dark cloud, threatening to overshadow the dreams of connection and intimacy that manylong for. It seemed cruel, how the spectre of conflict kept souls apart, hindering the chance to find a kindred spirit in the chaos.

"But I understand," you continued, a gentle resolve in your voice, "that this must wait for now." You shifted your gaze back to the Queen, and in that moment, time seemed to pause. Her piercing eyes captivated you, drawing you in with an intensity that took your breath away. You felt as if you were lost in a vast ocean, with her gaze as the only guiding star.

Amid the uncertainty, the warmth of her presence ignited a flicker of hope within you—an unspoken promise that despite the world's turmoil, love still existed, waiting patiently beneath the surface. The corners of your lips curled into a smile, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though the two of you were the only ones in existence, united by the fragile thread of yearning that bound your hearts together.

Rhaenyra felt a surge of emotion at your words, a mix of empathy and a deep, aching understanding. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her chin propped on her interlaced fingers. Her violet eyes softened, a vulnerability creeping into their depths.

"Love," she echoed, her voice a mere whisper, "is indeed a force that transcends all others. It is the flame that guides us through the darkest of nights, the anchor that keeps us tethered to hope in the face of unconquerable odds."

Rhaenyra's gaze drifted to the window, where the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours. A wistful sigh escaped her lips, a longing for a life unburdened by the weight of the crown, a life where she could simply be Rhaenyra, not the heir to the Iron Throne.

She turned back to you, her eyes locking with yours. At that moment, a silent understanding passed between them, a recognition of the unspoken desire that simmered beneath the surface. Rhaenyra's heart raced, a flutter of anticipation and trepidation.

"Perhaps," she began, her voice low and husky, "amid this chaos, we can find comfort in each other's company. A brief pause from the duties we bear."

Rhaenyra reached out, her hand hovering inches from yours, a silent invitation. Her violet eyes shimmered with a mix of longing and uncertainty, a question hanging in the air between them. "What say you? What do you say we embrace this moment and see where it takes us?"

The observatory seemed to fade away, the telescopes and maps forgotten, the weight of the world temporarily lifted. In that instant, it was just Rhaenyra and you, two souls lured together by a force greater than themselves, a bond thattranscended the boundaries of refinement and duty.

You couldn’t help but gasp quietly upon hearing her words, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. The verynotion that Rhaenyra might harbour the same hunger for you that has ignited a fire within your heart is nothing short of intoxicating. 

As you lean closer, the warmth radiating from her draws you in, and your faces hover mere inches apart, the world around you fading into a dim haze. Her presence is both overwhelming and alluring as if a delicate crown of stars rests upon her head.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you muster the courage to break the silence that envelops you. “May I kiss you, my Queen?” you ask, your voice a whisper tinged with reverence. Your eyes flit between her mesmerizing gaze and the temptation of her soft lips, each second stretching as you await her response. The moment feels charged with lust.

Rhaenyra's breath hitched in her throat, her eyes widening at Selira your bold question. The air between them crackled with an electric tension, a palpable energy that seemed to pulse and throb with each passing second.

For a fleeting moment, Rhaenyra hesitated, the weight of her obligations and commitments threatening to crush the fragile ember of passion that had ignited within her. But as she gazed into your eyes, she saw a reflection of her longing, a mirror of the ache that had taken root in her heart.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice a husky whisper, barely audible above the pounding of her own heart. "Kiss me."

Rhaenyra leaned in, closing the scant distance between them. Her lips met yours in a searing kiss, a burst of passion and need that threatened to consume them both. She tasted red wine and desire on your tongue, a heady combination that set Rhaenyra's senses ablaze.

Her hands came up to tangle in your hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingers like silk. She deepened the kiss, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, craving more.

The world fell away, everything fading into oblivion, the weight of the crown and the burden of the throne momentarily forgotten. At that moment, Rhaenyra was simply a woman, lost in the passion, consumed by a desire she had long denied herself.

Her body pressed against yours, the heat of their shared need burning through the fabric of their clothes. She could feel the rapid beat of your heart, the quickening of your breath, the tremble of your limbs. It was intoxicating, the knowledge that she could elicit such a response, that she could make you burn with the same fire that consumed her.

Rhaenyra's hands roamed over your body, mapping the curves and planes of your form, committing every inch to memory. She wanted to devour you, to consume you.

You moaned into the kiss, Rhaenyra's intoxicating taste sending waves of desire coursing through your veins. Your fingers tangled in her silvery hair, anchoring yourself as the intense sensations threatened to overwhelm you. 

Pleasure pooled between your thighs, your core aching and pulsing with need. You wanted more, no, you needed more of her touch, her kiss, her everything. The ache inside you grew, a desperate hunger that demanded to be sated.

Rhaenyra groaned into the kiss, her body responding to your touch like a bowstring pulled taut. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs, a throbbing ache that demanded attention. Her hands roamed over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, seeking the warmth of your skin.

"Gods" she panted, her voice ragged with desire. "I need you. I want you. Don't make me wait any longer."

Rhaenyra's hands found the laces of your bodice, tugging at them impatiently. She needed to feel your skin, to taste you, to consume you. With a swift motion, she tore the laces free, exposing your breasts to her hungry gaze.

She leaned in, capturing one pert nipple between her lips, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. Her hand cupped your other breast, kneading and massaging the soft mound. She could feel your heart racing, the frantic beat matching her own.

Rhaenyra's other hand slid down your body, over the curve of your hip, the soft plane of your stomach, until it reached the hem of your skirts. She pushed the fabric aside, her fingers delving beneath to find the slick heat of your core.

She groaned at the feel of you, hot and wet and ready for her touch. Rhaenyra circled your clit with her thumb, revelling in the way your body jerked and twitched at the contact. She slipped two fingers inside you, thrusting deep, relishing the way your walls clenched around her digits.

"That's it," Rhaenyra purred, her voice low and husky with desire. "Let yourself feel. Let me make you come undone."

She pumped her fingers in and out, curling them to hit that special spot deep within. Her thumb continued its maddening circle on your swollen clit, the dual stimulation driving you wild with need.

Rhaenyra could feel her arousal building, a pulsing ache between her legs, her core throbbing with want. She ground her hips against the plush divan, seeking friction for her aching wet cunt.

"Oh, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra cooed, her voice a sultry purr as she worked her fingers deeper, harder, faster. "You beg so prettily for me. I can't deny you what you crave."

She twisted her wrist, curling her fingers just so, seeking that sweet spot within your quivering walls. Your pleas for release only spurred Rhaenyra on.

"Cum for me," Rhaenyra commanded, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Let go. Cum all over your Queen's fingers."

And so you did. With a final thrust of her fingers, your body trembling from the intensity of your climax.

Rhaenyra held her close, her arousal building to a fever pitch as she felt your walls clench around her fingers, the wetness of your release coating Rhaenyra's hand.

"That's it, fuck, that's a good girl," Rhaenyra praised you as you rode out your orgasm on her fingers. The tears streaming down your face seemed to turn her on even more.

As your orgasm subsided, Rhaenyra slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her lips and licking them clean. The taste of your sticky essence on her tongue was intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that made Rhaenyra's head swim with desire.

"Delicious," Rhaenyra purred, her voice low and seductive. "I could feast on you for hours and never grow tired."

You gasped as you saw Rhaenyra lick her fingers clean of your release. Your pussy still gushing onto the divan, possibly ruining the fabric, but neither of you cared.

You felt a surge of desire to return the pleasure Rhaenyra had just given you. Rising to your feet, you let your dress slip from your body to the floor, baring your naked form to her hungry gaze. A thrill ran through you at the vulnerability of standing exposed before her.

"I want to make my Queen feel good," you purred your words affectionately as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of her. Gently, you spread her legs, lifting her skirts to reveal her glistening sex.

Your breath caught at the sight of her wet, red folds. You licked your lips, eager to taste her essence.

Rhaenyra's breath hitched as she watched you kneel before her, the younger woman's nude form a vision of beauty in the candlelight. She felt a rush of desire, a need so intense it threatened to consume her whole.

As you spread her legs, pushing Rhaenyra's skirts up to her waist, exposing her dripping sex, Rhaenyra gasped, her head falling back against the cushions. She could feel the heat of your gaze on her most intimate place, the intensity of it making her core clench with anticipation.

Rhaenyra tangled her fingers in your hair, guiding your face closer to her aching cunt. She could feel the heat of your breath on her sensitive skin, the anticipation nearly driving her mad.

"Don't tease," Rhaenyra commanded, her grip on your hair tightening. "I need your tongue, now."

You revelled in her dominant tone, making wetness pool between your thighs once again.

As your tongue finally made contact with her throbbing clit, Rhaneyra cried out in pleasure, her hips bucking up to meet your mouth. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, making her toes curl and her fingers dig into the velvet of the couch and your hair.

"Fuck, yes, just like that. Make me feel good. Make your Queen cum." She leaned back against the pillows, her violet eyes never leaving your face. She could see the hunger in those eyes, the desire to please, to worship, to consume.

Your tongue delved deeper, lapping at Rhaenyra's clit, sucking the sensitive bud between her lips. Rhaenyra's grip on your hair tightened, her nails digging into your scalp, holding you in place as she rode your face, grinding her cunny against your eager mouth.

As you pressed your face between Rhaenyra's thighs, you couldn't help but moan against her sopping cunt. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough of her sweet, tangy juices as they coated my tongue.

You delved deep with your tongue, fucking her tight hole, revelling in the way she writhed and moaned above me. Her taste was exquisite and addictive, and you found yourself craving more, needing to please her, to make her come undone.

Unable to resist, you suddenly plunged two fingers into her spasming pussy, pumping them in and out at a brutal pace. You sucked her clit into your mouth, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves with your tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," Rhaenyra moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Eat me, fuck, eat your Queen's cunny. Make me cum!"

You whined against her sopping heat as you eagerly ate her out, sending vibrations to her already sensitive clit.

Rhaenyra cried out in ecstasy as your fingers plunged into her dripping cunny, fucking her with a relentless, brutal pace. Her back arched off the divan, her hips bucking wildly as she rode the wave of pleasure that crashed over her.

Your tongue lashed at her clit, the dual stimulation of fingers and mouth driving Rhaenyra to the brink of madness. Her thighs clamped around your head, holding you in place as she ground her cunny against her face, seeking more, always more.

Rhaenyra could feel her orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her belly, her muscles tensing in anticipation of release. She pushed her hips harder against your hand, fucking herself on your fingers, the wet squelch of her arousal filling the room.

"Don't stop," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice a low, guttural moan. "Make me come, fuck, make your Queen come!"

With a final, brutal thrust of your fingers, Rhaenyra shattered. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her vision whiting out as pleasure consumed her. She screamed a primal, animalistic sound that echoed off the stone walls of the observatory.

Rhaenyra's body convulsed, her cunny clamping down on your fingers, milking them for all they were worth. Her juices gushed out, coating your hand, chin, and breasts. It was messy, filthy, and perfect.

As the aftershocks of her orgasm faded, Rhaenyra collapsed back against the divan, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat and her essence. She looked down at you, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, a lazy, satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"You've pleased your Queen well," Rhaenyra purred.

Rhaenyra gazed down at you, her violet eyes dark with lust and a hint of something more primal. The young woman'ssubmissive posture, and the pleading look in your eyes, ignited a hunger in Rhaenyra that she had long suppressed.

She reached down, her fingers tangling in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the elegant column of your throat. Rhaenyra's other hand trailed down your body, her touch feather-light, teasing.

"You want more?" Rhaenyra purred, her voice a husky whisper. "You want your Queen to use you, to take you, to make you hers?"

You nodded, a whimper escaping your lips. "Yes, my Queen," you breathed, your eyes never leaving Rhaenyra's. "I'myours, to do with as you please."

Rhaenyra smiled a predator's grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Good girl," she murmured, her hand cupping your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. "You're going to be a good little toy for your Queen, aren't you?"

Rhaenyra stood, towering over you, her presence dominating the space between them. She reached for the belt of her gown, slowly, teasingly, letting the anticipation build.

"On your hands and knees," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice tolerating no argument. "Ass up, head down. Present yourself to your Queen like the good little slut you are."

You hastened to obey, your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. You positioned yourself on the floor, ass raised, face pressed into the carpet. You could feel Rhaenyra's eyes on her, could hear the rustle of fabric as your Queen disrobed.

"Spread your legs," Rhaenyra ordered, her voice low and demanding. "Show me that pretty little cunt. Let me see what belongs to me."

You complied, spreading your legs wide, exposing your dripping sex to the cool air and her ravenous gaze. You waited, each second passing by felt like an hour without her touch on your skin. Patience was never your virtue.

Rhaenyra drank in the sight before her, the glistening folds of your pussy, the delicate lighter shade of your inner walls, the swollen nub of your clit. She could smell your arousal, a heady, intoxicating scent that made her mouth water with desire.

She knelt behind you, her knees pressing against your thighs, forcing your legs further apart. Rhaenyra's hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the room.

"Patience, my sweet," Rhaenyra purred, her fingers tracing the reddening skin of your cheek. "Your Queen will give you what you need, but first, you must learn to wait, to crave, to beg for my touch."

Rhaenyra's hand moved lower, her fingers teasing along the crease of your ass, dipping between your thighs, but never quite touching you where you needed it most. You whimpered, your hips bucking back, seeking more.

"Shh, be still," Rhaenyra chided, her voice a low, soothing murmur. "Good girls are rewarded, but naughty girls..." 

Her hand came down again, a stinging slap to your ass that made you cry out. Rhaenyra soothed the sting with gentle strokes, her fingers dancing over the heated skin.

"Naughty girls are punished," Rhaenyra finished, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But you have been a good girl, haven'tyou, my sweet?"

You nodded, your face pressed into the carpet, her ass raised high, an offering to her Queen. "Yes, my Queen," she breathed, her voice muffled. "I've been so good for you. Please touch me, my Queen."

Rhaenyra chuckled, the sound dark and rich with promise. "So greedy," she murmured, her fingers dipping between your legs, teasing the slick folds of your cunt. "But I suppose I can indulge you, just this once."

With that, Rhaenyra pushed two fingers inside you, your tight heat clenching around her digits. She pumped them slowly, torturously, revelling in the way your hips bucked, seeking more.

"That's it," Rhaenyra growled, her thumb finding your clit with ease, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "Take what your Queen gives you. Be a good little girl for me."

You could only moan in response, the pleasure of Rhaenyra's touch short-circuiting your brain.

Rhaenyra withdrew her fingers from your dripping cunny, leaving you empty and aching for more. She circled in front ofyou, her violet eyes dark with lust and power.

"Lay on your back," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice low and authoritative. "I want to see your face when I fuck you. I want to watch you come undone for your Queen."

You hastened to obey, laying back on the plush carpet, your legs falling open in wanton invitation. Rhaenyra loomed over you, her tall, regal form casting a shadow across your body.

She knelt between your thighs, her hands trailing up your calves, your thighs, until she reached your weeping cunt. Rhaenyra's fingers delved inside you once more, pumping in and out, curling to hit that special spot deep within.

"Look at me," Rhaenyra demanded, her other hand gripping your chin, forcing your gaze to meet hers. "Watch your Queen as she makes you come. Watch me as I claim you." With that she pulled her fingers out of your sopping heat, lapping up the slick from your cunt.

"Put your leg up," Rhaenyra ordered. She lifted your left leg, straddling your right thigh as her dripping cunt hovered above yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of lust and hunger swirling within you as you watched her. The soft glow of the candlelight danced across her features, illuminating the way her eyes sparkled with carnal desire. Every second felt like an eternity as you awaited her next move, your heart racing.

Rhaenyra's eyes locked onto yours, her gaze intense and hungry. She held your leg up, her cunt poised just above yours, the heat of her radiating against your skin.

"You want this, don't you?" Rhaenyra purred. "You want your Queen to ride you, to grind against you until we both come undone."

She shifted forward, the slick folds of her pussy brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, your hips bucking up to meet her.

"Beg for it," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice a low, seductive growl. "Beg your Queen to fuck you with her cunt. Beg me to make you mine like a good girl"

You couldn't help it, the words tumbled from your lips in a desperate, needy plea. "Please, my Queen," you whimpered, your eyes never leaving Rhaenyra's face. "Please fuck me with your cunt. Make me yours, claim me. I need it, I need you."

Rhaenyra smiled a wicked, triumphant grin that made your heart race. "Good girl," she purred, her praise sending a shiver of delight down your spine. "You've earned a reward."

With that, Rhaenyra pressed down, her cunt engulfing yours in a slick, hot embrace. She began to move, grinding against you, her clit rubbing against yours, the friction delicious and overwhelming.

"Oh, fuck yes!" You screamed out in pleasure, your back arching from the carpet. Your walls clenched around nothing as you felt her clit repeatedly grinding against yours. Eyes screwed shut and brows furrowed, moans kept spilling from your parted lips.

Rhaenyra increased the pace, grinding harder, faster, her cunt sliding against yours in a lewd, wet sound that filled the room. Your thighs quivered, your muscles tensing as your orgasm built to a crescendo.

"Fuck, yes," Rhaenyra moaned, her hips rolling in a sensual rhythm. "You feel so good, so wet for me. I could fuck this sweet little cunt all day and never tire of it."

You could only moan in response, your hands fisting in the carpet beneath you, your body arching up to meet Rhaenyra'smovements. The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, threatening to snap at any second.

Rhaenyra's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in her violet eyes as she watched you writhe beneath her. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm.

"That's it, my sweet," Rhaenyra purred, her voice low and husky. "Let go for me. Come for your Queen."

She increased the pace, grinding harder, faster, her cunt sliding against yours in a slick, obscene sound. Your thighs quivered, your muscles tensing as your orgasm built to a crescendo.

"Fuck, I'm gonna..." you panted, your words trailing off into a moan as the pressure inside you reached a breaking point.

With a final, brutal grind of Rhaenyra's hips, you shattered. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as pleasure consumed you. You screamed a primal, animalistic sound that echoed off the stone walls of the observatory.

Rhaenyra rode out your orgasm, her pleasure building as she felt your cunt spasm around nothing. She ground against you, drawing out your pleasure, milking every last drop of ecstasy from your body.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, Rhaenyra collapsed beside you, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat. She pulled you close, her arms encircling you, holding you tight against her body.

"My sweet, beautiful girl," Rhaenyra murmured, her lips brushing against your temple. "You please your Queen so well."

You nestled into her embrace, your heart still racing, your body humming with satisfaction. At that moment, you belonged to Rhaenyra, body and soul, a willing subject to her desires.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck, seeking solace as you tried to catch your breath. Her scent enveloped you, a delightful blend of vanilla, lavender and lust dancing in the air around you, warm and inviting.

With a tender touch, you reached out to brush her silky white hair away from her face. The strands glimmered softly in the light, cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. A few wisps clung to her forehead, dampened by a light sheen of sweat that glistened like tiny pearls, evidence of the warmth that lingered between you.

As your eyes met, a wordless understanding passed between the two of you, a shared moment that transcended the need for language. You smiled at her, the corners of your lips turning upwards, filled with unspoken affection and connection, knowing that in this quiet intimacy, everything that mattered was perfectly captured in that fleeting glance.

Rhaenyra leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed as you brushed the sweat-dampened strands of her silver-gold hair from her forehead. She nuzzled into your palm, a soft purr rumbling in her chest.

In that quiet moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. Rhaenyra's heartbeat slowly returned to normal, her breathing evening out as she savoured the warmth of your body against hers.

"You're a treasure," Rhaenyra murmured, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare skin. "A gem among the dross of this world. I am lucky to have you by my side."

You tilted your head, meeting her gaze with a soft, loving smile. "I am the lucky one, my Queen," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "To serve you, to please you, to be yours... it is an honour beyond measure."

Rhaenyra's smile widened, a rare, genuine expression of happiness and contentment. She cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"You are mine," she declared, her voice a low, possessive purr. "And I am yours."

You leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was a promise, a seal on the unspoken vows exchanged between you. In that kiss, you pledged your loyalty, your devotion, your very soul to Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Dragon Queen.

[littlemissmiller]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝓁𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒽 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!himbo!reader

Summary: snow got rid of highbottom before he could reveal his secrets to winning the games and with with lucy gray back in twelve, all he wants is you. with the victory of the games done, there is only one thing left, the Plinth family fortune. at the award dinner however, coriolanus thinks you’re not behaving just how he’d like it, so he decides to do something about it….

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, praise kink, dom!snow, sub! reader, degeneration (use of whore, slut), spanking, p in v, oral (m receiving), cum play, rough sex, dirty talk, possession, jealousy, slight obsession, reader is innocent (but not a virgin)

Word count: 7k

A/N: y’all….y’all this one is spiccccy like 🌶️🔥🥵 idk where this came from but another one just sitting in the vault…and i also realized that i wrote this before i wrote Bad Press and His Good Girl (go read those if you haven’t) and this one is kind of both of those stories combined. i think they walked so this one could run in a way because even some of these lines shocked me 🤭 so anyways strap in, buckle up, and enjoy ❦

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Tonight will be perfect. The Plinth Prize dinner. To celebrate the young academy student who won the prestigious award. Coriolanus buttons his new, freshly pressed white linen shirt. It was custom made to his exact measurements and Tigris had taken it upon herself to adorn the shirt with a little color and design. A simple red rose on the shirt pocket. It worked well as a simple white button up, even with the rose hidden under a blazer or sports coat, the subtle design is perfect. He straightens up when he hears a small, repetitive knock at his door. So quiet and timid and afraid. He knows it’s you, but calls out asking who it is anyways. You open the door and peek inside.

“My love? The Grandma’am says breakfast is ready.”

Coriolanus looks over his shoulder. There you stand, halfway in the doorway. Your eyes wide and lips showing him a soft smile.

He smiles back and as he finishes the last button, he takes a seat on the edge of his bed. He laces up a pair of black dress shoes. You tentatively walk further into the room, your eyes simply admiring the man you get to call your own.

“You’re here early today, pet.” He smiles glancing up at you

“Of course. I want to soak in every possible moment I have with you today. Today is all about you. How smart you are.” You say taking a step towards him. “How clever and ambitious.” You take another couple of steps. Coriolanus is now swelling with so much pride he can barely contain himself. You know how your words stir him up.

“Come sit.” Coriolanus commands, patting his leg, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

You glide over to him, landing softly in this thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck and instantly put his hand in on your body. His finger trails up and down your thigh slowly, gently back and forth.

“My life is about to change, dove. Soon The Snow’s will have a nicer penthouse, or a new home entirely. With a garden for the Grandma’am, and a studio for Tigris.” He whispers, beginning to place a soft kiss on your neck. “And for you. A beautiful bedroom, with a balcony and a bath. Big enough for us both to lay in. While our maid brings us posca to sip. Better yet, champagne. Would you like that?” He asks, his hot breath fanning your ear. You’re too caught up in the fantasy of you lying against him in a huge porcelain bath that you don’t respond at first. He tugs on your earlobe with his teeth to regain your attention.

“You want that don’t you?”

You nod “Yes Coryo, I want that.”

“Good. I’ve already started looking for new places and I think I might have found the perfect place. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Not until I officially have the Plinth fortune in my hands.”

“You deserve it. It’s like you say… Snow lands on top.”

“Snow lands on top.” He smiles. He turns your head to face him and he kisses you. His lips are so soft against yours. He takes his time with the kiss he places upon you. Slowly teasing and dragging it out, making you grow needy for him. His fingers graze your chin and the side of your jaw. He pulls back all too soon for you, giving you a devilish grin.

“You will be beautiful tonight. That black dress I bought you, will be stunning at the Plinth family table. You might get mistaken for the main course.” He breaths, trailing his fingers down your throat. His other hand starts to delicately touch your thigh again.

“Or maybe I’ll just save you for dessert later.” His hand trails under your skirt and to your clothed core. He grazes over your slit and you shudder “Mmm good girl.” He kisses your jaw “Now” he pats your thigh “will you be a sweetheart for me and fix up my plate? I’ll be out soon.”

“Of course. Looks like eggs, sausage links, and cubed potatoes.”

“Perfect.” He smiles, before pecking your lips. You hop off his lap, fix your skirt and walk out of his room, turning back to smile at him one last time before you went into the kitchen. Coriolanus feels good. You always make him feel like a man. A man who deserves everything he gets. A smart man who knows how to obtain power and keep it. And you’re so loyal to him. So caring as his woman should be. Attentive to his needs and desires. Yet, you still have much to prove.

Coriolanus was anticipating tonight for many reasons. The prize money that was finally his, to show to his peers at the Academy, and to an extent, Panem. To show that he is living up to his family name. That he was in fact not a poor hungry boy anymore and that this was just the beginning of his many fames and fortunes. Yet, another thought lingered in the back of the blonde headed boy’s mind. You. And how you would behave tonight. You’re not “bratty” per se, but it was no lie you had a fiery side to you, which Coriolanus was cautious of. You could be bold, and it was no lie you had an intimidating aura that surrounds you. Similar to Coriolanus and you appreciate the civility of your class. You know what’s expected of you in the high society of the Capital. So tonight, Coriolanus expects it to be a night where you could really prove yourself to him. Show him how ready you are to stand by his side and unequivocally show support as he takes his rightful first steps into power. He is ready.

As the day went by, the anticipation for dinner flooded his thoughts. Soon he would be in the possession of the most sought after wealth in all of Panem. It would be all his. Too bad high as a kite, Casca Highbottom, wasn’t here to witness it all go down. Coriolanus would have liked it if he had at least witnessed the moment he won the prize. Even though the announcement of the prize money came before his death, it would have been nice to shove it in his face. Meanwhile, in the reality of the lab, Coriolanus kept his head down in his work. He didn’t quite care much for getting hands-on in experiments, but as one Dr. Gaul’s personal favorite, Coriolanus was able to avoid such work and stick to research. He was a much better writer anyways.

“Snow! How are you my boy?” Dr. Gaul’s voice rings out as she walks toward him

“Doing well.”

“It’s a big day.” She hisses and Coriolanus nods

“Yes. I’m looking forward to this evening.” He agrees

“Much anticipated. I hope to meet the lovely woman I keep seeing accompanying you these days. She’s no Lucy Grey is she?”

Coriolanus pauses for a moment to gather himself and his anger with a half hearted chuckle.

“Well that’s because she’s not a means to an end this time Dr. Gaul.” He smirks, “I think you’ll find her to be charming.”

“Charming.” She repeats and walks off

Dr. Gaul was not wrong about you being no Lucy Gray, but that’s not why she was bringing his past up. Coriolanus knew it was meant to get under his skin. A way to remind him of that summer. The games and the girl he left behind. Coriolanus thought he had loved her, but once she got back to twelve, she was back to singing about her old lover and Coriolanus knew that she had played him as smoothly as her guitar. So he blocked her out, forgot about her and cleaned up her loose ends, which included taking care of Highbottom as soon as the games had ended. Then, with a new found sense of confidence he decided it was time to settle a long lasting urge. You. You had always been in his view. A long standing school boy crush that he could never quite seem to shake. You were perfect for him too. Your family had been historic in Panem. One of the few heirs of a family lineage that used to be famous back before Panem came to power. Coriolanus didn’t feel as if he was good enough back when you were schoolmates so he considered you to be an unattainable fantasy until he had more power and wealth. Yet, Lucy Gray had enchanted him, drawn his eyes away from you like a siren and he crashed his ship. He fell into a whirlwind of emotions he had never felt before, but it was all a lie.

The week after the games, Coriolanus took matters into his own hands. After his last encounter with Highbottom, he sought you out. And of course you said yes. How could you not say yes to his confession of love and off the heels of his victory? So tonight, he would show that not only was he over Lucy Gray, but he would be showing you off and he only hopes you wouldn’t make a fool of him. The announcement of his courtship of you had become semi-public, but most of Panem was still curious as to how the young Snow was holding up now that “his girl” was back in twelve. He would show them and he would show you.

As he dresses for this evening, he tries not to maul over Dr. Gaul’s words.

She’s no Lucy Gray…She’s no Lucy Gray…She’s no-

Coriolanus curses himself to shut up. He feels shameful for not flooding his thoughts with anything but you. You and your perfect body. Your elegant curves, your soft skin. Coriolanus tried to imagine you on his bed, your beautiful body spread completely naked for him. Since taking you as his own, Coriolanus had not found time for you and him to be together in that way. He wants you. He wants you bare beneath him, hands trailing your sides as you whimper and whine for him to give you more. And, oh how pretty you would look as he ravished and lapped up your wetness. Better yet, how pretty would you look on your knees, mouth agape and ready. Your glossy lips, so ready for him. His imagination seizes as soon as he hears a tapping at the door.

“Hey. Oh wow….” Tigris exclaims “Oh Coryo look at you!”

He looks back at her. Tigris is as equally well dressed as he. It’s clear she made her own dress tonight, a simple long sleeve, navy dress, with gold embroidery on the sleeve. Coriolanus turns to look at himself in the mirror. Slicking his hair back, he admires himself in his all black suit. Tigris approaches him, brushes off and lint from his shoulders, and pins a white rose to his lapel. He smiles and nods at her.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought to add it.”

“Oh I would. Didn’t you see the inside of your jacket? She asks

Coriolanus had noticed that Tigris had modified his evening jacket with a sublet white stitching pattern, but hadn’t taken a close enough look. He pulls it back. Little white rose. So little and intricate it was practically hidden in plain sight.

“Always such clever craftsmanship, cousin.” He beams

“Oh Coryo” she sighs “You look so much like your father.”

Coriolanus smiles, once again admiring his handsome features and how good he looks with the new touches to his suit.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t be here without you and the Grandma’am.” He remarks not knowing what else to say

“Don’t sell yourself short. We’re so proud of you Coryo. I know that's cheesy but I had to say it before the night got away from us.”

Tigris leaves to help the Grandma’am get ready and Coriolanus lets his driver know he’s ready to go. They drive to your house, and Coriolanus is taken aback when he finally sees you. Your sleek, velvet dress hugs your body so perfectly. The back dips low and the front shows just enough cleavage to tease. And you have adorned yourself with beautiful silver jewelry. A necklace with a line pendant leading to your cleavage, several bracelets, and small hoop earrings.

Coriolanus keeps his hand deliberately on your thigh as you and him make your way to The University, where the dinner is being held. He glances over at you, and admires your soft features. The dip in your collarbone looks so inviting to kiss, your neck and jawline shaped perfectly by the sliver. You look so flawless, so ideal and to his liking, but Coriolanus was cautious with his compliments. He had told you that you look beautiful when he saw you, but that was all for now. If you behave as exceptionally as you look, then he’d be sure to reward you. As the grand pillars of The University draw closer into view, Coriolanus squeezes your thigh. You look over at him, smiling and he trails his fingers across your jaw. You desperately want to kiss him, so you lean in. He gives you a few small pecks on your lips and you smile. He gives you one last peck before pulling back. The car comes to a slow stop and you look out the window at the entryway to The University.

“Are you ready?” Coriolanus asks and you nod.

He exits the vehicle and pulls around to open your door. You step out of the car, taking the extended hand out to you. You and him walk inside and your stomach flutters. You feel nervous, not wanting to displease your boyfriend on one of his most important nights. You smooth out your dress and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Coriolanus takes hold of your hand and you both walk into the venue. The entrance is adorned with white and gold banners, with rope lights hanging from the ceiling. There are round tables scattering the floor and a long table in the back of the room. Coriolanus ushers you both to the long table. Several heads turn as you and him walk up. The faint whispers and admiration swirls in the air around you. Once at the table, Coriolanus pulls up a seat for you.

Next to you, is Sejanus Plinth with the rest of the Plinth family. He waves to you and Coriolanus. You take it upon yourself to dive into conversation with him, seemingly unaware of how you are ignoring your boyfriend. He snakes a hand finger the table and onto your thigh. It causes you to glance over momentarily, you pause, smile at him, then soon return to your conversation with Sejanus. Soon enough, posca and wine is being served and Coriolanus takes a flute of posca off a server tray. You take a flute of champagne in contrast and so does Sejanus. Why are you drinking champagne with Sejanus and not posca with him? Are you trying to get drunk? Are you trying to get him drunk? Coriolanus decides to finally insert himself into the conversation and get your attention back. As he’s about to speak, Tigris and the Grandma’am make their arrival and sit next to him.

“Are we late?” Tigris asks

“No uh- you’re fine, you’re fine” he starts “darling why don’t we go make our way around the room?” He announces, turning to you suddenly. He takes your hand, stands up, and takes you off with him in no particular direction. You tell Sejanus that you’ll talk to him in a bit, which makes Coriolanus’s blood boil. He takes you to a group of students who you had never met. His hand finds the small of your back as he makes small talk with your fellow soon to be University classmates. You have never met Coriolanus friends and was almost certain he didn’t have any besides Sejanus. You find it curious at this moment then, why he has pulled you away to talk to who you always assumed were mere acquaintances. You occasionally glance at him, then around the room, hoping to see if you can politely excuse yourself to catch up with your own friends. He notices your inattentiveness, lightly squeezing on your hip whenever your eyes are drawn away from him and his company for too long.

You soon spot a girl from your book club and excuse yourself to go greet her. Coriolanus masks his disapproval in your decision and begrudgingly lets you go off. He continues his facade and turns his attention back to his group of peers. They are all very interested in him, yet Coriolanus couldn’t be less interested in them. They ask him questions about what he plans to do with his prize money, besides going to The University, and too many questions about the games.

She’s no Lucy Gray

The words echo in his mind again.

He glances at you, still chatting with your friend. He half mindedly answers another question about his plans to study politics, trying to refocus his attention back to the group. He was fuming on the inside and his need for politeness traps him to the spot. The small talk was getting to him. He didn’t expect to have to stand here and entertain these people for so long. After all he was only using them as a means to get you away from Sejanus, who unbeknownst to Coriolanus, is making his way back to you.

You, on the other hand, are finally enjoying yourself. Feeling free from the confines of your role as Coriolanus’s date. Even though your romantic relationship has only spanned the course of a few weeks, the expectations to be Coriolanus’s girlfriend has been challenging. His new found wealth, victory, and fame has set everything off. His attitude has changed, his image of himself, and the idea that he belongs on top has become the driving force of his life. You had a feeling that Coriolanus used to be much softer, more gentle, and more vulnerable. Now, you got this new side of him and you barely even knew what he was like before all this. He’s such a mystery to you. Your attention refocuses as Sejanus makes his way to you and your friend. You include him in the conversation, happy to be talking to one of the few people in the Capital who seem to be above the pomp and circumstance. Coriolanus is perfect for you, but he was a traditionalist and upheld the many social rules the Capitol citizens had manufactured. As did you, and you knew your place, but weren’t found if it. Having someone like Sejanus around made you feel less alone in your feelings. You let out a small laugh as Sejanus makes conversation with you which Coriolanus manages to pick up on.

He whips around to look at you. There you are, giggling like a pathetic little school girl at Sejanus. Didn’t you get the point? Why the hell are you trying to embarrass him like this? Coriolanus abruptly excuses himself. He swipes two glasses of posca and bee lines for you.

“Here my love. I notice your glass is empty.” He barges forward, taking the empty champagne flute from your hand and replacing it with the posca glass.

“Thank you dear.” You smile trying to mask the confusion you feel about his seemingly on edge behavior tonight. Coriolanus consciously sips on his own posca, looking at Sejanus. Senjanus however, is none the wiser. He gives Coriolanus a goofy smile, which sends his hand trailing down to clutch your hip. He rubs his thumb lightly against you, and you take a drink from your own glass, feeling slightly put off.

“I was going to make our way back to our seats before dinner is officially served. I think your father has a speech prepared for tonight.” He nods to Sejanus, before dragging you back to the table

“Coryo?!” You whisper, your confusion drawing to a peak and your frustration taking over.

Coriolanus stays silent, throwing fake smiles towards people as you make your way to the front of the room. He grips your hand, and you reclaim your seat. He glances at you, sneering slightly. You find Tigris’s face to see if she has picked up on his mood and of course she has. She gives you a concerning look, yet shakes her head as if she’s confused. You’re not sure if you find it reassuring or feel more worried.

“Coryo? Is there something wrong?”

“Later.” He sneered harshly

Just then, Dr. Gaul approaches the table. Coriolanus taps your leg, indicating for you to stand and greet her.

“Hello again Mr. Snow.”

“Dr. Gaul” he smiles and introduces you to her.

“Yes, I’m familiar with your family history. What an honor it must be to have such a name. I’m sad I never got to have you as my student. ”

“It’s a true honor” you lie, you could care less about your name and the history behind it to live a normal life.

“Well Mr. Snow you certainly are lucky to have such a pleasant date night.” She smirks, sounding as if she is revolted by your existence, but masks it well enough to toe the line.

You fake a smile and look at Coriolanus, holding his shoulder with pride.

“Yes we are having a wonderful evening too.”

“How nice. A word before dinner, Snow?”

Coriolanus nods and follows Dr. Gaul. Meanwhile Sejanus scoots closer to you to re-engages in conversation. Dr. Gaul leads Coriolanus to the bar where she orders a glass of posca.

“I just got word of an opportunity I wanted to tell you about.”

“Of course.”

“Would you, instead of mentoring this year’s hunger games, want to take a chance at playing game maker?”

“Game maker? You think I should.”

“You’re a wonderfully, brilliant boy Coriolanus. I can see so much more in Your ideas in your final semester essay that tells me everything I need to know. Think about it and if you write a decent enough application it’s yours.”

“Well thank you Dr. Gaul for letting me know. I will definitely be considering it.”

“Good. And oh your date…she’s very lovely. I see you two working well together…”

“I’m glad you found her charming then.”

“Oh…no Mr. Snow. Not quite yet, but she certainly seems to be charming the young Mr. Plinth over there.”

Coriolanus turns back around to see Senjanus cozying back up to you. He contains his anger as he excuses himself back to you, making sure to thank Dr. Gaul for presenting him the opportunity of game maker. He rushes back to his seat, squeezing in while you are still mid-conversation with Sejanus. He squeezes your thigh. The rest of the evening feels tense. Eventually, Strabo Plinth made a speech about the importance of Academic pursuits and ambitions. He mentioned the games, Coriolanus’s victory and what it meant to be an exemplary Panem citizen above all else. As he talks, Coriolanus is locked into every word, but makes sure to keep you in his sight. You too are locked in, your hand on top of your boyfriend’s thigh, squeezing it occasionally. Little do you know that for so many reasons at this moment, Coriolanus is still angry, but also turned on. Fueled by jealousy over Sejanus, but the words of Strabo’s speech in combination with your hand on him, was making his cock hard.

Despite embarrassing him earlier in the night, you now sat there beautifully by his side. You seem attentive and engaged, and the physical touch is all he needs to know that you’re there. He shifts in his seat and stands as Strabo calls him up to receive the prize. You stand with him, ever so proud. He kisses you, then walks up, shaking Strabo’s hand as he takes the velvet red envelope with the check for the prize money in hand. You tune everything out and focus on the gorgeous man in front of you. Even though you’re still somewhat confused, you can’t help but admire him like this. Confident and on the verge of greatness. His expression screams that nothing will stand in his way.

As the evening wraps up, Coriolanus finds himself wrapped in so many conversations he is starting to feel like a broken record. He stands not too far from you as you talk to Tigris.

“Was he nervous at home? Before he picked me up?” You ask

“No. I’m not quite sure what’s gotten into him to be honest dear. All the excitement perhaps.He seems better now that he has the award.

You sign, shrugging your shoulders. Sejanus returns back to his seat with two glasses of posca in his hand.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

“Perhaps one last one” you smirk

“Is everything ok?” He asks

“Yes. I’m enjoying the evening just…you’re close with Coryo…do you notice he’s acting on edge?”

“Slightly yeah. I’m not sure why.”

“Me either…” you hang your head and take a sip of your drink.

As if he was summoned by the mere mention of his name, he is standing behind you. You look up at him with innocent eyes and set your glass down.

“I’m ready to go. People are starting to leave.” He murmurs, holding his hand out. He bids Tigris a goodbye, promising to see her at home and gives the Grandma’am a kiss on the cheek goodbye, thanking them both for coming. Once in the car, Coriolanus is consumed in his emotions. His leg shakes furiously as he looks out the window. He hides part of his face with his mouth and ignores you. You roll up the driver partition and place a hand on his shaking leg.

“Coryo, please what’s wrong, love?”

He takes a deep breath and looks further into the window. You touch his shoulder and he turns to you.

“You really would rather be with Sejanus” He snaps

“What?”

“I saw you around him. He’s not bad looking, I get it, he’s innocent right. Is that the appeal? Innocent little privileged district boy.”

“Coryo…you can’t be serious?”

“The future First Lady of Panem. Acting like you can flirt around and embarrass me. Tonight of all nights…” he mumbles not loud enough for you to hear.

When the car stops, it isn’t your house it pulls up to. Coriolanus exits the vehicle and swings around to open your door. You get out and he trails behind you. Once in his house he storms into the kitchen, and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He takes a sip and removes his sports coat, placing it on the back of a chain. You tentatively follow him, still keeping your distance. His back is turned to you, his chest rising and falling.

“He’s a friend.”

“He’s my friend too, but I wasn’t hanging around him all night.” He rolls his eyes

“Can I not make conversation with him? I support you through and through, but those types of events are so much. I’ve never enjoyed them, but I went for you.”

“And embarrassed me. Couldn’t you see him flirting with you. Getting you drinks, making you laugh. It was pathetic really.” He snaps, downing his whiskey and pouring himself another. Dr. Gaul sure noticed. Thought I was a fucking cuckhold. Now she thinks I can’t even hold my women down.”

“She said that?”

“She didn’t have to say anything. She saw you.” He huffs

“He’s nothing to me ok Coriolanus! You think I’d rather be with someone who still calls their mother Ma?” You bark back

Coriolanus looks at you for a moment and pauses. Then, he strides towards you, capturing your face, locking his lips with your own. It was the last thing you’d expect of him. As he moves his lips against yours, passion and hunger overtaking his mind. Feeling even more confused than at the dinner, you pull away and look at him. He pants, clearly needy for more.

“I don’t understand?”

“You think he’s beneath you?”

“I well…he’s not you. I’d rather have the boy with the prize than the boy whose namesake it belongs to.”

Coriolanus pulls you closer to him, he hooks his finger along the front line of your dress, his other hand cups your ass.

“And do you know who you belong to?” He sneers

“Y-y-you…”

“Good girl”

He pulls you back to him, his forehead pressing against yours. He pinches your chin, lets out a small smirk and kisses you again. He gropes your ass harshly, landing a fat smack. You yelp in surprise.

“I bet Sejanus just wishes he could feel you like this.”

“Coryo…”

“Shh it’s ok baby. He wants you. He wants you so bad, but he can’t have you….” He noted, grinding his crotch against you. “No he can’t. Because who do you belong to again?”

You close your eyes and rest your forehead again, his nodding, barely able to speak as your mind turns to jelly.

He grips your chin and cheeks, smooshing your face. “Look at me. Who. Do. You..belong to?”

“You” you whimper

He gives you a few light, little slaps to the face.

“That’s right you belong to me. Not Sejanus. You’re mine.”

You nod and he lets go of his grip on your face. He’s hungry for you, it's clear. His lust filled eyes are dark and needy.

“D-do you want to hurt me? Am I being punished?

“No baby, of course I don’t want to actually hurt you…” he coos, chucking slightly “but I think you need to be put in your place a little. Let me ask you something? Do you want to be First Lady of Panem? Stand by my side from this day and help me rise to the top? You want it too don’t you?” He chuckles

He wasn’t wrong. Despite your distaste for your family’s fame and history, to stand by Coriolanus’s side. It would be a dream. You had been fond of him for a while, but like Coriolanus, you thought it was too good to be true. You nod your head at his question and in response he wraps his hand under your chin.

“Tell me” he demands

“Yes, Coyro. I do.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, soft lips landing harshly against yours. He fights for dominance and you give in, letting his mouth consume your own. He pushes his tongue in, swirling it with yours. He breaks from the kiss to start attacking your neck. He nibbles and kisses down your throat, causing you to elicit a soft moan from your lips. He smirks against your skin, causing you to shutter.

“Coyro…a-a-are you sure you want out first time to be like this?”

“Yes doll, especially after tonight.” He hisses

“I-I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” You stutter

“I know and that’s exactly why I need to show you how to act. By showing you first who you belong to. To show you’re mine.

He dives for your neck, lips trailing down your skin.

“Do you not want me talking to anyone but you then?”

“No my dear, I just can’t have you making a fool of yourself anymore by letting men like Sejanus flirt with you. And once I mark you up a little…” he pauses, his hand coming up to cup under your chin. He rubs his thumb along the base of it. “They’ll know to back off.”

Coriolanus’s words sink in as harshly into you as his teeth do as he nibbles down on your neck. He sucks and bites, leaving beautiful wine red marks on you. He pulls back momentarily to admire his work. He lets out a soft sigh, pleased with himself. He trails his fingers around the spots he marked up and smirks. He dives back in, licking a long, broad stripe up your neck, and up to your ear. You whimper some more, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to drip. His hands snake down to cup your ass, he wants to carry you to his bedroom. He moves his arms to lift your legs around his waist. He hoists you up, causing your dress to ride up your thighs. You let out a soft yelp of surprise. He smacks your ass, causing you to let out a more clear squeal. He starts to move towards his bedroom, holding you tightly against his chest. You cling to him, your lips finding his neck and you place a few cautious kisses.

Once in his bedroom he flops you down on the bed, you gasp. Looking up at him, you shutter in excitement, but still feeling fearful. He notices, smirking at you again

“It’s ok my pet, be a good girl for me?” He demands, his tone a warning

You nod and he clicks his tongue at you.

“Tsk…” he has a seat at the edge of the bed. He pulls your ankles towards him, your ass sliding over his hips and settling onto his crotch. He pushes your dress further up your body and over your head. You grunt, arching your back. He tosses the dress on the ground, his hand touches you again, fingers trailing down your figure slowly. He admires you for a moment. Then, with a devilish grin taking over his handsome features, he squeezes your thigh and tosses it across your body. Laying on your stomach in anticipation, you feel exposed. He rolls up his sleeves, then rubs his hand over your ass. He readjusts your lacy black panties to expose more of your butt to him and he lands a firm slap on you. You squirm and yelp, his other hand holds you back down as he gives you another slap to the ass. He grips your hair, forcing your cheek up to his nose.

“I like good girls who know how to use their words. Now when I ask you something I want you to use your words. Got it?”

“Yes..” you whimper

He rubs your ass, his hand moving in slow, soft, big circles.

Slapslapslap

“Yes sir?”

“Yes sir” you bite your lip

Coriolanus proceeds to slap your ass over and over again, each cheek getting redder and redder. He gropes and massages you at the same time, making sure to occasionally dip his fingers over your clothed cunt and rub slowly. Each time you would try not to squirm, but it’s nearly impossible not to. He spreads your legs a little to gain better access to your pussy. Coriolanus moves your panties aside, spits on his hand, then dips his fingers into your aching slit. You cry out in surprise, landing you a fast, sharp slap this time.

“Don’t act surprised. Don’t act like you didn’t expect it. Any of it. Keep being my good girl and tell me who you belong to again…” he growls

“Y-you sir.”

Slap

“Again” he demands

“You. I belong to you Coriolanus.”

He gives you another slap, smiles to himself, then snakes his hand under your stomach through the back of your legs. He lifts you up as he stands, turning around and placing you on the bed, ass up, ready for him. You look behind you and watch him as he unbuckles his belt. You bite your lip in anticipation as he pulls his pants down, bringing his boxers with him. You gasp as you watch his cock spring out. He notices you staring and moves his hand to your hair. He shoves your face into the pillows.

“This isn’t for you to enjoy tonight. Another night we will do this properly, I’ll let you touch me, kiss me, but tonight, I’m in control.”

He moves your panties to the side and you bury your face into the mattress, forcing yourself to muffle your moans as his thick member spreads your core. He leaves you no time to let you adjust and he trusts in you, every so often slapping your ass. He doesn’t let up, chasing his pleasure like prey. You turn your head to breathe, gasping as he practically shoves you into the mattress.

“I’ll treat you how you deserve next time. I promise you my sweet. Because next time I know you won’t act up. Right. You won’t let Sejanus flirt with you.

“Yes sir” you squeal

“Ooooh goood girrrl” he purrs speeding up

The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy fills the entire room, along with your cries of pleasure. It only encourages him to grab your hair tighter. Tangling it up in his fingers, he pulls you close to him. He starts to fuck up into you like a toy and all you can do is take it. Your mind is numb, brain all fucked out.

“Seems like you know your place now hmm. Are you going to obey me, my love? Not flirt and flaunt around like a common whore?”

“N-no sir”

“Because this is how a common whore is treated. They get treated like a little naughty play thing. Like the filthy little sluts they are.” He snarls

He pounds into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever fuck you. His deliberate, hard thrusts are almost too much to bare and you feel your orgasm creep up on you. All the sudden, you clench and spasm around him. You cum hard, harder than you expect. He whispers continuously praises of “good girl” over and over until he finally finishes, dumping his thick seed into your hole. He fills you up, pulling out slowly and watching as his cum drips out of you. He admires you, his middle finger rubbing up your folds, and into you, shoving the cum back inside you. He pats your ass and you lower yourself. He strips himself of the rest of his clothes, crawling next to you on the bed. He leans against the headboard and you flip over, curling up to him.

“I promise next time it will be sweeter. I just can’t let you get away with that behavior and now…” he kisses your temple “you never will..”

“I promise I won’t let Sejanus flirt with me again.”

“Good. I’ll make sure to send my own message to him.” He smirks, his fingers dancing around your sore neck

“Coryo!” You exclaim in fear

“Shh baby it’s ok. He won’t get hurt, just tuck his tail and run home to his Ma” Coriolanus chuckles, his mocking tone making you laugh a little

“I promise I won’t let him do that again” you nod

“That’s my girl…now get on your knees.” He insists and you nod.

You crawl onto the floor, ushering yourself in between his legs.

“Mouth open, tongue out.” He instructs

You obey and look up at him. You flatten your tongue against your bottom lip and open wide. He coos at you, rubbing his length across your face, teasing his tip along parted lips. Then he pushes in, causing you to gag.

“Fucking suck it.”he sneered

You nod and bob your head, getting his cock nice and wet.

“Oh there you go.”

He holds the back of your head, moving his hips as you take more of him into your mouth. He bites his lip harshly, grunting aggressively. His cock hits the back of your throat over and over and over again. He pulls away for a moment, watching in awe as a line of saliva trails from your lips to the tip of his dick. He wipes it up, sticking his thumb in your mouth. Your lips wrap around it and suck. He smiles at you, slapping your face again. Your eyes water, small tears falling down your cheek from the sting of the pain. But you like this. You liked his dominance in a way that you didn’t expect or realize.

“You’re pretty. Do you like this cock in your mouth?

“Yes sir.”

“Yes Daddy?”

“Yes Daddy.” You nod and he shoves himself back into your mouth.

He lets out a long, staggering moan. He moves his hips more slowly this time, watching your little mouth stretch around him. He pulled away the way out, taking his length in his hand and slapping against your lips. He continues to let his greed overtake him, moving his balls close to your face. You suck them into your mouth and he let out a loud groan.

“Oh fuck you know how to make me feel amazing don’t you baby. S’good for me” he tosses his head back.

Your lips feel so soft and perfect around his cock it makes him want to bust again. You stroke him as you continue sucking on his balls, feeling that he’s close again. With a few more strokes, he finishes. He holds your chin and pressed the tip to your lips. You part them and let the white sticky cum paint the inside of your throat.

“Ohmygod baby girl…fuck look at you.” He pants and you swallow his load. It wasn’t as heavy going down your throat and you take it down with a loud gulp. He tilts your face up to look at him, his blue eyes clouded with lust.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes Coriolanus”

“Good. Next time you’ll get what you actually deserve.”

You nodded, feeling fucked out and spent. You continue to nod and he pulls you up, kisses you fiercely, some of his cum pressing onto his lips.

He pulled away, whipping it off his lips and shoving it into your mouth.

“Yeah, you learn quickly don’t you. You’ll make a great First Lady.” He whispered

“I hope to be”

“Good. I think you will be. If you continue to learn like you do, this life will be easy on you pet”

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

[acapelladitty]

thinnest thread, sown together

Summary: After an accident, Cooper leaves Lucy to patch up his leather duster for him but when he returns he finds that she's used his absence as an opportunity for a private indulgence (AKA: Cooper walks in on Lucy masturbating). [3.2k words]

(tw: voyeurism, vague threats, teasing, masturbation, mentions of drug use, orgasm, coming in pants)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

"Try not to fuck this up, vaultie. I'm fond of that coat, you hear me?"

"Heard you the first three times, boss."

An unfortunate and somewhat embarrassing accident involving wooden boards and a protruding scrap of sheet metal had proven too much for Cooper's coat, the leather duster having almost split in half due to the pressure of the metal cleaving its way through the material as he descended in a undignified heap.

Lucy was a smart enough girl to know not to laugh, but the noise which escaped the ghoul as he had fallen sat somewhere between a deflating balloon and a startled deathclaw so the effort it had taken for her to not bust out into a giggle was borderline heroic.

The fault was Cooper's own, his footing misstepping due to his attention being pulled away by the distant sound of gunfire - the origins of it unknown but never anything good. It had been enough to throw him off though, and Cooper had sworn up a storm as he tripped on a loose board and smashed through the rickety walkway with such an undignified noise.

Not the end of the world but the genuine distress which seemed to briefly touch at Cooper's face as he recovered from the fall and examined his tattered jacket before his eyes had moved Lucy to offer to fix it up, knowing that he already owned a rusted needle and thread among the various practical belongings he had strewn around his person.

Presumably, they were the same ones he'd previously used to sew the top of her finger onto his own to replace the missing digit she'd torn off with her teeth. She didn't regret it since he'd deserved that and worse for treating her more shittily than that dog that followed him around at times, but she was curious.

More than once her gaze had lowered to her displaced finger, the lightened tone of her smooth skin a stark contrast to his own, and she wondered how it must feel. To have her as a part of him. Did it feel any different? The sight of it made something odd roil in her chest; a stunning mixture of curiosity, vague disgust, and a pleasant warmth that no matter what he did or how their partnership ended, he would always carry that little part of her whether he liked it or not.

However, that was a discussion which she hadn't broached yet but it was always there ticking away in the back of her mind.

Despite knowing that he was perfectly capable, Lucy found her offer of her sewing skills being met with quick acceptance and Cooper had moved like hell itself as he sourced her a table and room to work, securing their accommodation for the night in an old storage unit which was little more than two rooms filled with old, empty crates and not much else.

She set to work as diligently as she had the rest of the miserable and shitty tasks he assigned to her, each designed to test her skills or teach her a valuable lesson in survival. This though, she had taken to with a small smile, the repetitive and willing task remindering her of a more simple time back in her vault. Sewing circle with the others had been a blast of fun and constant gossip and she did miss it at times.

A memory stirred as Cooper watched her from his standing position a few feet behind her turned back. He saw Barb, sitting at their kitchen table doing much the same as she mended the tears in his pants after he'd taken a tumble off one of the more unstable stallions. But, just as quickly as it arose, he banished the memory away as he often did with thoughts of his ex-wife - the hurt which accompanied them making him instantly sour and grow more volatile than he would like.

Since discovering his previous life as an actor, Lucy's attitude and actions around him had been different and, more than once, he had caught her staring at him with those big, doe eyes of hers. What was surprising more than anything was that the attention didn't irritate him as much as he thought it would and he wasn't ignorant to the slight blush that stained her cheeks when he caught her making a moon face at him.

Seemed that Lucy Maclean had developed herself quite the little liking to him and he had taken that discovery into his stride with a smug gleefullness. He had always been a proud man and to have such an attractive thing interested in him had cracked open a facet of his personality that had long since closed itself off to the world.

Cooper Howard had always been a flirt, incorrigible in his prime, and those mean little teases which he afforded Lucy punished him as much as her as he refused to follow up on them. He hadn't lied when he said Lucy Maclean wasn't ready for him and that same pride refused to allow him to take any real advantage of her, knowing that in the long run, she'd probably thank him for not poisoning her with his own bullshit.

But still, he lived for the game and this was just another way to play. A bit of fun to pass the time until they had dealt with her daddy and he had found the truth of his daughters' whereabouts.

If he were honest with himself, a feat in its own given his choices, something unfamiliar and warm tugged at his stomach every time he considered the fact that Lucy's fancies had taken root with him as he was now. Not Cooper Howard, famed movie star, but Cooper Howard, ghoul and scourge of the wastelands. It was a feeling locked away with the end of the world he had known and better left by the wayside.

Besides, it was much easier to channel that warmth into some playful teasing.

Pressing himself firmly against her as she leaned diligently over his coat, his stomach was flush against her back and he felt the shiver which rolled down her spine as he engulfed her senses. She hid it well, could have easily passed it off as a natural reaction to a monster forcing its way into her personal space, but Cooper knew better.

"Don't take an attitude with me, vaultie. Your damn fault it ripped in the first place. Lucky for you that I'm a kindly man and I ain't ripping your shirt off to keep us on that equal streak we've been enjoying these last few weeks."

Her head snapping up vertically to face him as he loomed over her, Lucy's expression was as open as ever to him as he took in the torrid mixture of irritation, focus, and mild arousal which his determined positioning was causing her.

And just like that, there was that little flush of colour, sitting high on her cheeks and making him hold back a smirk as he at played her like an old fiddle.

"My shirt wouldn't fit you." Was her impressive comeback after a few silent moments of intense consideration, her mouth set into a proud line as she made her point.

"Never said I'd be wearing it, sweetheart." Cooper answered, pushing her head even further back into his stomach with the pressure of a single finger on her forehead. "What I did say is that you would be losing it. I mean, that's your golden rule, after all. Do unto others what you'd have done unto you? Hrm?"

"I never took your jacket." Lucy defended hotly.

"Well it's between your hands, ain't it?"

"Only because-"

"Enough arguing, darling." Cutting her off to frustrate her evern further, Cooper dropped his hands to the pockets of his filthy slacks. "Now I'm gonna leave on a scouting trip for five, maybe six hours, so you get that jacket all patched up and looking pretty and I'll see about forgetting what I was talking about."

Silently seething but perking up at the thought of getting to enjoy some alone time as her back felt wickedly hot from Cooper standing flush against her skin, Lucy did everything in her power to not think about the slight bulge which pressed between her shoulder blades nor the infuriating man it belonged to.

"Whatever." Lucy announced after a pause, nodding her head forward once more as she went back to mending his coat with dexterous fingers. "Try to pick up something freshly killed on the way back because your latest batch of ass jerky tastes like shit."

Having taken to calling anything Cooper hunted and cooked 'ass jerky', Lucy had yet to actually try any of his cannibalistic delicacies and, even more surprising, Cooper had never actively offered her any; appearing to almost go out of his way to find excuses for her to be denied it.

Chuckling at the rare swear from her, a sign that she was truly annoyed with him, Cooper tutted his disapproval with a soft headshake.

"Sounds good to me, valutie. Maybe you should see about washing that filthy fucking mouth out with soap before I return, huh?"

x-x-x-x-x

Arriving back from his scouting trip a few hours earlier than he expected to, Cooper heard nothing as he silently entered the first room of the storage unit. A quick hunt had pulled up nothing too fresh so shit-tasting ass jerky was back on the menu for another night for the little food critic vaultie.

Cooper dropped his gun and holster to the top of a nearby storage box, the lock rusting and clearly having been opened through sheer brute force many years previously. Against all odds, he had found himself actively missing his coat as he traversed the vast dusted grounds which surrounded the storage unit.

So used to its presence, the absence of the familiar feel of the softened leather pressing against his shoulders had made him feel oddly vulnerable as his fingers flexed and twitched towards phantom pockets. He had been quick to the trigger, gun pulled and pointed at the slightest noise as his heightened senses refused to allow him to relax on the small trip.

And, as much as it irritated him, the thought of the little vaultie hunched over his coat and fixing it up like a kept housewife amused him in a way which he found hard to pin down.

Speaking of the little vaultie, her absence in the main room was odd; particularly since the table she had preciously occupied with his coat was abandoned. It was an absence which made him curious rather than worried as she would not have left without him or without having achieved their shared goal of knocking her daddies teeth down his smug throat.

No.

She was too smart to leave.

So that would mean...

Peering in through the rounded window which sat near the top of the door that led to the second room, Cooper had to press his lips together in an instant as his cock stiffened in his pants and his eyes widened at the filthy sight which awaited him.

Unaware that Cooper's scouting trip had been cut shorter than anticipated, Lucy Maclean had apparently taken his absence as a rare excuse for some self-pleasure and, god-fucking-damn, did she seem to be enjoying herself.

Her upper body reclined against the metallic wall, her ass resting on a wooden crate as one leg hung loosely down the side of it, the other pulled up so her foot also sat atop the crate. Her knees were spread wide, the angle enough to allow her easy access to her dripping cunt without having to bend. Head tipped back against the wall, her fingers moved quickly between her slickened folds and Cooper couldn't bring himself to turn away even as shame at his own voyeurism trickled down his spine.

Falling loosely around her shoulders, Lucy's hair was in a wild state of disarray as the constant roll of her head against the wall had messed up any sense of order in the dark strands.

The only sounds in the immediate vicinity came from her, muted gasps and whimpers slipping free of her lips as her other hand split its attention between pressing against her mouth to muffle anything louder than a whine and pinching at her breasts; slender fingers rolling across her darkened nipples as they remained peaked in the warm air.

She was fucking beautiful and, as much as filthy shame continued to creep across his skin at watching her like this, Cooper found he couldn't tear his eyes away as his gaze filtered over her creamy skin, imagining how soft it would feel under his calloused hand and blunted teeth.

He knew that she had quite the little sex drive, her crossed arms having more than once demanded time or space to indulge her needs. In those moments, where she was commanding and confident in her expectations, an aspect of her personality that she didn't indulge nearly enough, he found it maddeningly endearing and it drove him more wild than she ever needed to know.

Snatching her fingers away from her left nipple, her hand dropped to something by her side and Cooper almost gave the game away as a lustful growl was quickly caught by the back of his gloved hand as his cock jerked within his slacks.

There, clenched between Lucy's fingers was his goddamn jacket; the mended leather bunching up between her digits as she simultaneously rode the fingers on her other hand - the fingers there moving in tandem and they stroked and pinched and fucked into her cunt with a steady rhythm.

"Cooper." She muttered and a sensation, not unlike freezing cold water being shucked across his body, tensed Cooper's spine as he realised he'd been caught. However, the panicked feeling passed just as quickly as Lucy's soft voice followed up with a very breathy. "Please."

She was thinking about him and that revelation was almost enough to have him shooting off in his pants like a schoolboy. Her eyes remained closed, fingers moving even more quickly as they slipped from steadily pumping within her to circle around her clit, teasing herself as she imagined him.

Thought about him.

Pictured his fingers in place of her own.

Feeling very hot under the collar and fighting the urge to say 'to hell with it' and announce himself, Cooper dropped the heel of his gloved hand to his groin - rubbing at his trapped cock through the fabric as he watched her. Fresh shame, hot and heavy, swept across his irradiated skin as his tongue slipped free to lick as his dry lips.

There had been an old fling, a women he'd met on a hunt about a decade before the whole shitshow with Don Pedro had gone down. A ghoul like him, she was hellfire in a handbag and quicker with a gun than most of the slingers he'd met.

She'd caught him at a sloppier time in his past and he had taken full advantage of their whirlwind mess to indulge his own worst traits. The chem flowed easier in those times and the other drugs she scored made the hard days all the sweeter as they snorted and fucked and inhaled themselves into a proper mess.

However, even that didn't last and one day he had awoken from a stupor to find that she had disappeared and moved on without him.

Fuck, he couldn't even remember her name, but what he could remember was the feeling of her lips on his cock and the way she could perfectly balance a powdered line on his chest as she bit her way down his skin, occasionally drawing blood and making him gasp.

She had been as rotten as him, just two ghouls numbing themselves to the state of the world for a couple of weeks as they waited for the inevitable to take them.

Hell, some of the shit they got up to would probably blow the vaulties head clean off if he described them to her. But then, she was so different to the rest that he couldn't help but wonder how she liked it.

Would she grit her teeth and moan through the pain as he fucked himself inside her, stretching her out to accommodate his size? Or would she grin that little feral smile he'd seen playing on her lips when she achieved some bloodstained victory and push back at him to demand more?

His cock twitched against his palm, the length feeling more uncomfortably trapped as he rubbed himself through his slacks, not quite trusting himself to pull it free. It was torture but, lucky for him, he was used to that by now.

Goddamn Lucy Maclean and her wicked ways had him pawing at himself like a mindless beast. Like one of those mutated things that roamed the outskirts of the desert with nothing but base desire guiding its thoughts.

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, he could imagine how good she would feel under his mouth. Her soft skin, pillowy and firm between his teeth as he teased the strength of it; biting enough to threaten the unblemished creaminess as she arched her back and pressed harder into his mouth. The taste of her sweat, fresh and mounting, as he trailed his mouth lower, lips teasing their way along her hips and inner thighs until she was a trembling mess ready for him to consume her like she knew he wanted.

In her panicked babble as she had first offered him sex, she had tried to offer the use her mouth and he gazed at her lips now, plump and wettened by her own tongue, and he could almost feel the wicked softness of them wrapped around his cock; her greedy tongue pulling him deeper as he gripped her hair within his hand and met her eyes while he buried his cock deep within her clenching throat.

Lost in the fantasy, his thoughts boldened by his voyeurism as he watched her curl her fingers expertly within her cunt, Cooper came with a muted grunt - the disgrace of his release instantly trapping within his pants as the sticky mess quickly irritated him with how heated and uncomfortable it felt.

Lucy still wasnt finished, her casual edging of her own pleasure only making her move more slowly as she built herself back up to the point of release. Her grip on his coat flexed with each pump of her fingers as she enjoyed herself, still unaware of the struggling ghoul who observed her with heated eyes.

Backing away from the door with regret etched in the lines of his features, Cooper silently exited the storage unit once again as he recalled a nearby barrel of water - the stagnant liquid probably decent enough to allow him to clean off his mess and hide all evidence of his unexpected show.

Her innocent question rattled through his mind once more, the weeks old offer still as fresh as ever in its casualness.

Do you want to have sex?

And, after that little taste, Cooper felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he settled on the fact that, yes, if Lucy Maclean - with her big eyes and busy fingers - asked him again, then he would take her up on her very generous offer, consequences be fucking damned.

Links to the rest of the series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[estellan0vella]

Sometimes A Girl Just Has To Throw A Punch Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The tattoo parlour is buzzing with its usual activity. The hum of tattoo machines, the soft clink of piercing tools, and the occasional laughter from the staff blend into comfortable background noise. Sukuna is focused on his latest piece, his tattoo machine moving deftly over his client’s skin. Gojo is joking around with Geto and Toji, all of them laughing and grinning. You’re behind the counter, designing a new tattoo for a client scheduled later in the week, your silver epilepsy bangle catching the light as you sketch.

The door chimes, signalling a new customer. You glance up and see a man in his mid-30s striding in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He approaches the counter, his eyes scanning the shop before landing on you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, leaning on the counter. “I’m here for a tattoo.”

You offer him a polite smile. “Sure, what can I help you with today?”

His eyes catch on your bangle, and his grin fades into a sneer. “What’s that? Some kind of special needs bracelet?”

You stiffen, your grip tightening on your pencil. “It’s an epilepsy bangle,” you say evenly.

He snorts. “Figures. Women with conditions like yours shouldn’t be working in places like this. You should be at home, letting a real man take care of you.”

The room goes silent. You feel the heat of anger rising up your neck, your blood boiling at his words. You can see Sukuna’s head snap up from his work, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Gojo’s jaw drops, and Toji and Geto pause mid-conversation, their expressions darkening.

"What can't handle the truth sweetheart?" The man taunts you. "Typical soft woman in a men's world"

Before you know it, you’re vaulting over the counter, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw with a satisfying crunch. He stumbles back, shock and pain written all over his face.

“Oh shit! Go Y/N!” Gojo shouts, his voice filled with glee.

You don’t stop. Your fists fly, landing punch after punch on the man who dared to belittle you. He tries to shield himself, but your anger fuels your strength, and he’s no match for you. Just as you’re about to land another blow, strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Toji says, his voice laced with laughter. He holds you in the air, effortlessly preventing you from continuing your assault. “Save some for the rest of us, yeah?”

The man scrambles to his feet, clutching his face, and staggers out of the shop, muttering curses under his breath. The door slams shut behind him, and the room erupts in laughter.

You take a deep breath, the adrenaline slowly fading. Sukuna is by your side in an instant, gently taking your hands in his. "Come on, babe," he says softly. "Let's get some ice on those knuckles."

He leads you to the back, where he grabs an ice pack from the freezer. He sits you down and carefully places the pack on your swollen knuckles, his touch gentle despite his usual rough demeanour.

"That was certainly somethig," Sukuna says, examining the split skin on your knuckles. 

"Sometimes," you say, a wry smile tugging at your lips, "a girl just has to throw a punch."

Sukuna chuckles, his eyes filled with admiration. "Yeah, and sometimes that girl needs someone to help her ice her knuckles afterwards."

You lean into him, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Kuna."

He smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You know, you’re pretty badass when you’re angry.”

Gojo saunters over, still laughing. “I knew you had it in you, Y/N. That guy didn’t know what hit him.”

Geto and Toji join you, both grinning from ear to ear. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Geto jokes.

Toji ruffles your hair, still holding back laughter. “You’ve got some serious balls, kid.”

You shrug, feeling a sense of camaraderie and warmth from your friends. “He deserved it. No one talks to me like that and gets away with it.”

Sukuna presses a kiss to your temple. “Damn right, baby. And if anyone else tries, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You lean into him, feeling his strength and support radiate through you. “I can handle myself, but it’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”

“Always,” he says, his voice softening.

As the laughter dies down and the adrenaline fades, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. You’re surrounded by people who love and respect you, who see your strength and stand by your side. And in this moment, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them head-on, with Sukuna and your friends right there with you.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of ink and laughter. The incident with the rude customer quickly becomes the stuff of shop legend, with Gojo and Toji re-enacting your punches for anyone who’ll listen. By the time the shop closes, your knuckles are sore but your spirit is high.

As you and Sukuna lock up for the night, he pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing today,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile, resting your head against his chest. “Thanks, Kuna. I just… I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

“And you didn’t,” he says, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You stood up for yourself, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you too, baby. Let’s go home.”

With his arm around your shoulders, you walk to the car, ready to face whatever comes next, knowing that with Sukuna by your side, you can handle anything.