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shroomdreams · 5 months ago

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She Makes Me Laugh (WLW Special)

Dom!HSR Women x Girlfailure!GF

cw: oral sex, collaring, hypnosis, fingering, tit/nipple play, public sex, usage of strap-on (reader receiving), temperature play a/n: happy pride month! and also happy yuri day! here's the wlw special, i hope you all like it! it took me a while, but I finally got it done!

Kafka:

You met Kafka while she was on a mission from Elio. You were one of the key pawns in her script, so she started getting closer to you in order to ensure the completion of the plan. What Kafka didn’t expect is to start feeling... fluffy things things for you. When you would hand her a flower you picked off the street, stuttering about how you thought of her, you were unknowingly plucking at her heartstrings.

She can’t help but pity you. You, the clumsy IPC grunt getting tangled with a Stellaron Hunter. Just the slightest scent of her perfume has you wrapped around her finger, giggling and twirling your hair as she purrs your name. Sweet, silly thing, do you know just who you’re dealing with? Kafka can’t help but lament your innocent nature, but such things were not meant to last. Not when it comes to the script.

But Elio had a surprise for her. He left out a crucial detail before Kafka was briefed on the mission. When she came to you, covered in blood and viscera, she expected this to be the last of your meetings. What she was not expecting was for you to blubber about how her clothes are all ruined, and that she NEEDS to come home so you can try and scrub her outfit clean. My my, aren’t you a curious one?

Being an employee of the IPC means you had more than enough money to pamper your girlfriend with a nice, relaxing bath. Sure, your face was the color of a tomato the whole time you were scrubbing her back, but Kafka can’t help but tease you during this intimate moment. She turns to face you, exposing her soapy chest. She laughs when your hands fly up to cover your vision, then letting out a cry when the soap solution makes stings your eyes. Kafka seizes this opportunity to use her ability on you.

You were already compliant before she used her hypnosis on you, but now you eagerly stripped off your clothing to join Kafka in the bath. Your hands roam her body as you feverishly kiss her neck, Kafka letting out a giggle when you try and fail to capture her lips, whining as she presses a finger to yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” Kafka says, holding you close and stroking your hair. “I should give you a reward. So sit pretty for me, alright sweetheart?”

Her dexterous fingers knead your breasts, cupping and tugging at your nipples with ease. You whine, laying your head on her shoulder as she teases your hardening nubs. The soapy water that clings to your skin makes it all the easier for Kafka to tug your nipples, rolling the buds between her index and thumb fingers. You squeal when Kafka slides one of her hands to the valley between your legs, her middle finger rubbing circles on your clit.

“K-Kafkaahhh...” She lets out a breathy laugh when you moan her name, teasing your entrance with her fingers. You whine, hands resting on her wrist as she eases a finger inside your wet cunt. “Ah! Kafkaaa-” Her middle finger moves in and out, rubbing against your walls. A sob escapes your lips when she adds another finger, adding to the intense pleasure you feel. Sure, you may have masturbated a few times, but your awkward fingers were nothing compared to Kafka’s. Speaking of which, Kafka nibbles at your ear before plunging another finger inside. Mouth hanging open, you’re powerless to stop the stream of moans and cries escaping you as Kafka’s fingers speed up, bringing you to orgasm. Your hips twitch upwards trying to chase her touch when Kafka pulls out.

“Open wide, little fly.” Kafka places her fingers in your mouth, watching as you eagerly clean your release off her digits. “You felt good, didn’t you? How about you show me some gratitude and eat me out?” She whispers. “A- Ah wan’ eat you ouff,” You whimper, still suckling on her fingers. “Mommy, wan’ taste you! Please!” Kafka raises an eyebrow, amused at how she managed to drag out this side of you.

The two of you don’t even bother to wipe yourselves dry as Kafka lays on the bed, spread out like a goddess. You hastily kiss up her legs, nipping the flesh of her thighs as your breath tickles her pretty cunt. Strings of Lightning wrap around your neck, collaring you to Kafka’s hands. “Go on then, little fly. Show mommy just how much you love her.”

You didn’t need her to tell you twice, as you start licking up her pussy, moaning as she tugs the strings leashing you to her. You eagerly push your face in, nose bumping against her clit as your tongue enters her pussy. Kafka rewards you with a low moan, her free hand playing with her chest as you eat like a starved man. Through the fog of lust and residual hypnosis in your mind, you thumb at Kafka’s clit, causing her to raise her hips into your face. Her moans grow progressively louder when you seal your lips over her clit, suckling on it while you desperately finger her cunt. Kafka throws her head back, her juices spraying all over you while you whine and lick at her cunt.

You kiss her stomach as Kafka pets you, praising you for a job well done. A week later, you quit your job by exploding your office as Kafka whisks you away, aided by Silver Wolf wiping away your records from the IPC’s database. You’re as clumsy as ever, but Kafka thinks its the most adorable thing ever, especially since you started making explosives for them to use.

Kafka secretly thanks Elio for letting the two of you meet, happy that you can stay by her side until the script eventually tears you apart.

Himeko

The fact you manged to pull a woman such as Himeko is something not even the Genius Society can comprehend. You, who trips on air and frequently knocks things off the table, having Himeko pepper kisses to your face while you blubber about whatever topic you’re interested in. Even the Astral Express jokes about the differences between you and Himeko.

In your first meeting, you spilled some coffee on Himeko’s dress. She had to pull you up from the bow you were in, her golden eyes looking into your tear-filled gaze. Eventually she managed to calm you down. Himeko couldn’t help but laugh whenever you stuttered, finding you oh so adorable.

Your consequent meetings had her observing your movements. You were trying so desperately hard not to mess up, constantly in a nervous sweat while you pointed out some interesting things in the environment. The way your eyes flicker to her when you talk about your favorite things, and how you stare up at her with such adoration when she talks about her journeys on the Express.

One day, you bring her to the opera house, dressed up all pretty in a white number that matches her dress. From the outside looking in, it looked like the two of you were getting married, and you weren’t exactly helping when you present her with a bouquet of flowers. Seeing you go through so much effort makes Himeko want to keep you all to herself! You even rented out a secluded part of the balcony just for the two of you. The opera performed below went forgotten when Himeko initiates a kiss, pulling you close into her embrace. You drown in her perfume, eyes squeezed shut as your hands awkwardly place themselves on her waist.

You had to be quick and subtle- Else you risk a shot reputation and being banned from the opera house. Taking off your gloves, you graze your hands over Himeko’s exposed leg, slipping under the slit of her dress and cupping her clothed pussy. She giggles, whispering in your ear. “Daring today, are we?” “I want... I want to make you feel good, Himeko. Can I?” Oh, you’re just too cute to handle! Where did that clumsy girl go? Either way, Himeko lifts herself off the seat just a bit, swaying her hips as she pulls down her shorts and underwear.

You wet your fingers before doing anything, licking them up and down before shyly ghosting your fingers over Himeko’s clit. She sighs, running her hand through your hair as you palm at her sex, teasing her lips and gradually building up the courage to dip a finger inside. Himeko softly moans in your ear as you wriggle your finger around, pulsing around the digit while praising you. You eventually dip another finger inside, receiving contented sigh from Himeko.

Keeping a delicate balance of speed and quiet was not an easy feat to achieve, but you managed to make it work. You bury your face in Himeko’s chest, kissing the valley between her breasts while kneading her nipple through the cloth. Himeko places a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her moans. “The opera’s... mmmh~ Ending soon... Better make it quick, honey.” You heed her words, angling your fingers to the sensitive spot in her walls. Himeko leans back into her seat as she cums, squeezing your fingers as they piston in and out, fucking her through her orgasm.

When the two of you get cleaned up, Himeko rewards you by fucking you senseless with a brand new, shiny strap-on she got just for you. You babble and keen as you feel the toy reach the deepest parts of your cunt, clawing at the sheets as you push your hips up against Himeko’s. She lightly pats your ass, pushing your back in a sinful arch. The position has you cumming quick, gushing around the dildo and creating a white ring at the base. However, it wasn’t over just yet, as Himeko grabs your leg and settles it over her shoulder. You’re pretty sure the neighbors would have filled a noise complaint from how loud you were screaming from the pleasure.

Even though she couldn’t bring you with her on the Express, Himeko still makes time for you whenever they stop by. She loves her adorable, silly girlfriend so much!

Jingliu

First off: How the FUCK did you survive meeting such a dangerous woman? No seriously, just... how? You should have died by her sword the second you made contact with her, but you’re still alive? Not even Jingliu herself understands why she hasn’t killed you yet- Whenever she raises her blade to deliver a killing blow, something within her falters. Hanging around with a mara-struck is dangerous, you know? So why do you still accompany her?

Maybe it’s because you’re still quite young. You’re a few centuries younger than her, pursuing someone who reached reached her 1000s at the least. Shouldn’t you be going after people your age? And the fact you can barely fight with any weapon annoys her a lot. If you’re going to be clinging to her like some lost puppy, she should at least discipline you to hold a sword.

So that’s exactly what she does, demanding that you bring a sword before meeting with her, or not bother seeing her if you fail. Thankfully, your grandfather’s sword is still in good condition, hopefully enough to survive Jingliu’s training... Okay maybe you overestimated your sword, since it sustained damage after the first session. But you weren’t about to give up. So when you come back, you had managed to find a craftsman willing to refine your sword.

Subsequent meetings with Jingliu devolved into training sessions, where she would bring your body to its lowest point and push you to your limits. She will admit, she was a bit fascinated by your ability to bounce back from your injuries like it was nothing. Perhaps you were touched by the Abundance? The thought of the Plagues Author extending THEIR filthy touch to you makes her blood boil.

At the end of one particularly intense session, Jingliu has you pinned down with the blade of her sword pinned to your neck. Instead of the normal fear, you just looked at her with such love-filled eyes, as if she wasn’t about to slay you right then and there. Jingliu’s icy breath hits your face as she stabs her sword to the ground, as she ravenously captures your lips, shoving her tongue inside as you squeal. She tears off your clothes, revealing a canvas for her to ruin.

The feeling of a cold tongue invading your cunt was definitely something new. Jingliu keeps your thighs apart, her cool touch making you shiver from the contact. Her crimson eyes stare up at you as she nibbles on your clit, making you whine from embarrassment. Jingliu closes her eyes as she continues sucking your bud. A string of saliva connecting her mouth to her pussy is visible when she releases her hold on you. “Keep your legs apart for me, pet.”

You immediately do so, using your hands to keep yourself spread wide open for Jingliu to ravage. She pulls you upward by your hips, sitting on her legs as she licks her lips. You mewl, wiggling your hips to try further entice her. This earns you a sharp bite to your thighs. “Naughty thing. Remember your place.” That’s all she said before she dove her face in your pussy, while her hands sneaked down to play with your tits, causing you to cry out from the icy sensation. You rut against her face, which makes Jingliu groan in approval, smearing your juices all over her.

In combination with your clit being abused and your nipples being roughly tugged, you came quick, squirting all over Jingliu. Of course, it wasn’t the end of it, as she tugs off her dress. You suddenly feel yourself being horny all over again when Jingliu’s pussy kisses against yours, whining from the sensitivity. Jingliu sighs as she perfectly slots between your legs, rutting against your pussy, fluids mixing in a puddle beneath your sinful dance. She plays with her tits as you babble about how good it feels. “You’re mine, you got that?” She growls, feeling her release building. “I’ll carve myself into your body so you’ll always remember who owns you.” Jingliu moans as she cums against you, pushing down into you to the point your delirious mind hopes you’ve melded as one.

You can never go back to your boring job in the Divination Commission after that. For until you become mara-struck as well, you become Jingliu’s personal pet. Hooray?

#shroomie.fic #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #himeko x reader #jingliu x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #afab reader

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risuola · 9 months ago

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III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

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norrizzandpia · 11 months ago

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reader finding out that lando only pursued her bc one of his pr team told him to date somebody of her caliber

I love these kinds of tropes

One-Sided Fake Dating (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Warnings: angst, language, sexual references, i build this couple up just have them come crashing down, this one’s rough but all my posts are so its ok, family trauma, me being cliche when it comes to making up fake rich last names sorry sue me

Note: it’s a sad ending but AS WE ALL KNOW i cant take those so there will most likely be a part two lmk if yall want to see that

Part 2 link

She hated these things. Galas where men approached her for the last name written on her birth certificate and women fawned over her dress in order to become one step closer to the opportunities only she held access to. A drink in her hand, the little droplets leaking onto the ring adorning her finger, her eyes gazed upon attendees of the party her father had thrown. Men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothing, a rotten feeling manifested in her stomach. It was indescribably cold, something that settled within her and was a stark reminder that, in a room full of people ready to wait on her hand and foot, she was alone. Neither her father nor mother could make her feel any semblance of warmth, not when they exploited the image she had perfectly curated over the span of her life. The perfect, girl-next-door persona had been all she was destined for when she was birthed into the hands of Nick and Amy Winchester, two heirs to two successful oil businesses. Neither of them had truly made the effort to make her feel as though she was destined for more, other than a pawn in their Public Relations game.

She stared at them shortly, studying their faces and the way they moved about the room, wondering whether she had ever truly known them. Her parents were an anomaly, filthy rich and happy as ever. Although, no one ever knew what went on behind doors.

“Y/n Winchester, how lucky I am to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so many great things.” A voice startled her from her deep mind, turning it back on to the mission at hand, putting on a front that she had everything she ever wanted.

Turning around, her gaze found that of Lando Norris, a man her parents had never shut up about, having been friends with his father and loving the way he so seamlessly fell into what they had always wanted her to be, but she never quite came close. This man was the image of the self-inadequacy she had been forced to feel from the moment she could slightly understand the concept. She despised him.

The fake smile she had flaunted for years graced her face, “Lando Norris, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”

He extended his hand to her, her fingers falling onto the bed of his as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm. The warm pressure spread up her arm and down her body as they held each other’s eyes. Something about the deep greenness of his made her want to know more, made the hatred and envy she had held for him diminish.

“I have to say you’re even more beautiful in person.” He whispered, lowering her hand but not letting go.

A tinge of red wrapped around her cheeks, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome as well.”

The entire thing felt incredibly mysterious. The way he cradled her hand; the way his eyes pierced hers; the way he was so intoxicating and the way she didn’t know why. She wanted more, wanted to know more.

Drowning in the confusion pertaining to her sudden change of feelings toward him, she couldn’t make out what he had been speaking about. As a result he simply stared at her with raised eyebrows, “Y/n, am I boring you already?”

She shook her head with a soft smile, “No, I’m sorry. Just got lost in thought.”

“About me?” He rubuttled quickly. So quick she couldn’t hesitate or think before she began nodding slowly. Her brain had shrunk at the hands of the smell of his cologne and all she could rely on was the years of PR training.

His eyebrows raised further, “Oh? Well, that’s a good sign considering I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked into the room.”

She choked slightly on her drink, not expecting him to be quite forward, “Sorry?”

He smiled a sinister smile, one that drew her in and made her want to run away all at once, “You’re intoxicating, Y/n.”

She cocked her head, “Is being bold your way of picking up women, Norris?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “Being bold is my way of trying to make you fall in love with me. The women of my past are nothing like you, Winchester. I never wanted them to fall in love with me, however, with you,” He leaned in closer, “I want you all to myself.”

Pulsing between her legs told her this night would be ending very differently then she originally intended, “Is that so? I have to say, I’m not entirely opposed.”

His lips were centimeters from hers, his hot breath fanning her face, “Good because I was never going to stop until you were.”

—

In the light of the morning, Y/n’s mind ran wild at the consequences of what waking up in bed next to Lando Norris meant. He was known for sleeping around, for playing women and adding notches to his bedpost. Being another one of his past girls wouldn’t go over well for her image, an innocent and pure one that was meticulously portrayed so no one would see her as something inherently sexual.

However, as his arm slung over her waist, she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. Sure, she was a bit panicked for what her parents would say, but with the memories of the night before and the dull aching between her legs, she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t something she typically did, but maybe she could try just this once.

His arm rustled on her warm skin, his eyelids creaking open as he stared at her, “Morning, Y/n.”

She giggled, “Not a good morning for you, Norris?”

His teeth peaked through in a flirtatious grin, “No, Winchester. It is a very very good morning.”

She turned around, slipping out of his arms and off the bed to pull her dress back on.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a grovel in his voice that made her never want to leave the quiet oasis of his room.

She turned around with a questionable glint in her eyes, “Leaving?”

He shook his head and propped his body up on his elbow, leaning over to grab her hand softly, “No, Y/n. Stay.”

There was a pleading in his eyes, one she had never seen in the media and one she had certainly never seen throughout the time they spent together. It made her give in.

She plopped back in bed next to him, his arm fell around her shoulders and he kissed her temple, “Why are you still in clothes?”

She laughed, thinking he was joking, but his hands over the soft skin of her arms as he pulled it down made the joyous sound dwindle down.

She certainly stopped laughing when his lips started descending down her stomach.

—

A persistent knocking on her door had her groaning and running over, “I’m coming!”

Her hand clutched the door knob, throwing open the door of her apartment near her university's campus, before she was greeted with the sweet image of her boyfriend.

She tilted her head with a soft smile, “Lan? What are you doing here?”

He pushed through the threshold, a nice smell of roses hitting her nose as he turned around to face her in her foyer.

“What’s with the flowers?” She questioned as he just stood there with an innocent smile.

He walked closer, planting a short kiss on her lips before whispering, “Happy three months.”

He held the flowers in between their bodies, continuing to grin at her as the occasion dawned on her.

She wrapped him in a hug, taking the red plant from his hands and kissing his cheek aggressively, “You are so cute! Thank you!”

He followed her further into the apartment as she went to the kitchen to put them in water. Questions flew from her lips, “How’d you know? Were you keeping track? You didn’t do this for our one month or two? Also, I thought we agreed to only celebrate the big ones like six months or a year? Was I supposed to get you something? Oh shit, Lan, I didn’t get you something.”

He giggled at her and shook his head, slithering his arms around her waist and pulling her into him when she was done with the flowers, “No, love, I just got a Snapchat memory that informed me it was three months ago today I asked you to be my girlfriend. I was going to ignore it, but I thought against it when I remembered how lucky I am to have you. I thought I’d just remind you of that.”

She blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’re sweet.”

“Only for you.” He murmured as she closed the gap between their lips.

At first, Y/n was a bit hesitant with Lando. With his past with women, sleeping around and never holding a commitment, she wondered if he would treat her a priority. Although, she was pleasantly surprised when he started speaking to her, treating her better than any of her ex’s. He was kind and gentle, compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and loving. He was everything and she was beginning to think he was her everything.

They continued kissing in her kitchen before she was reminded of the homework splayed out on the desk in her room, stress riddling her body once more. Lando clocked the tension, letting his hands rub up and down her back soothingly before softly speaking, “You okay, love?”

She tried to nod, but shook her head instead, her face pressing into his chest as she huffed, “No, I’m so stressed.”

Lando frowned, “Why? What’s going on?”

She led him to her room, his hand clutched in hers as she dragged him. When they reached her door, she opened it and he found a messy room drowning in papers and textbooks. The sight of it let alone made him panic.

“Christ,” He murmured. His hand squeezed hers in support as the two stared upon the mess.

Her voice became wobbly as she spoke, “I have so many assignments due and my room is a fucking shit show. I can’t think when it’s like this. It just adds to my stress. I don’t know what to do, Lando. I don’t have time to clean my room, I don’t have time to eat, I don’t have time to sleep. I’m fucking drowning.”

She choked up as her words felt suffocating. Lando was quick to pull her back into him, shushing her and caressing the hair on her head as she sniffled into his shirt. He led her to her bed, sitting her down and letting her lean on him, emotionally and physically. When she calmed down, he whispered into her hair, his lips having kissed multiple times there, “How about you sit at your desk, do what you can of your assignments, and I clean your room. I’ll make it spotless that way you don’t have to worry about it and then I’ll make some dinner, yeah? I can order in from your favorite place or I can make it myself. Whatever you want, baby. But, when your room is clean and the food is ready, you will give yourself a break. Trust me, laying with me on the couch and watching movies before going to bed at a reasonable hour will help you tomorrow so you can get more things done. You will get through this.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes, “You’d clean my room for me?”

He chuckled, hands cradling her face, “Of course, love. I’d do a lot more for you.”

🏎️

Four hours later, Lando had cleaned her entire apartment, ordered her favorite meal from a diner down the street, and plated it on the countertop of her kitchen. He was pleased with himself when he walked into her room, lightly pulled her earphone out and led her back into the kitchen where her face lit up at what he had done. Falling into his arms, she mumbled quick praises of gratitude into his neck, kissing at the skin as a thank you.

The wrinkles in her forehead had loosened by the time they made it to the couch, his legs kicked up as she sprawled out on him. There was quiet conversation of what they would watch before settling on The Holiday, a movie Y/n had loved since the moment she watched it when she was twelve.

As much as she loved it, however, she fell asleep twenty minutes in. Soft intakes of breath alerted Lando of the sleeping girl on him and he decided to stay there. He watched the movie all the way through, scratching her back softly throughout the entire thing. She moved a bit, but never away from him, always closer to him and his heart warmed every time.

When he laid her down in her bed and she whispered for him to stay, there was no argument in his mind. He stayed and he was beginning to think he always would.

—

“What’s your biggest fear?” Lando said into the darkness of the night as they sat in his car.

Y/n thought it over, knowing exactly what it was, but deciding if spilling that to him was appropriate in a five month relationship.

“Spiders.” She replied, fear taking over and forcing her out of what she truly wanted to say.

Lando looked over at her blankly, “What’s your biggest fear, Y/n?”

She laughed, “Spiders, Lan.”

He shook his head, “Tell me the truth, love.”

She exhaled a breath and began, “Going my entire life without making my parents proud.”

Her sentence hung in the air, her words hitting him as he searched for clarification, “You have made them proud, Y/n.”

She scoffed and shook her head as the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping into hers spread throughout her body in a grave reminder that he was there for her, “No, they have never looked at me long enough to see what I’ve tried to achieve and what I have achieved.”

His eyes bore into the side of her face as he listened intently, “No one knows that my parents are not who they portray themselves to be. Sure, they’re in love and they have fun times together, but they never wanted me. I know that, they know that, the staff, and the people they’ve employed to keep our image know that. They had me out of obligation, out of pressure from the outside world to have a child after they got married. I know they never wanted children, they’ve both said it to me before. From the moment I was born, I was not seen as a human or a baby who needed nurturing, I was seen as an object that could warmly slip into the narrative of their lives and compliment the rumors surrounding them. I was never meant to be anything else than their public pride and joy. Privately, I have never meant anything.”

Lando’s fingers grazed over the skin of her cheek, wiping a tear she hadn’t realized was there. He turned her face to his, forcing her eyes to see the love that ran deep for her, and stated so forcefully, “You are so much more than that.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say to something that had never been reaffirmed in her entire life, and waited for him to continue.

“For them to disregard you that way shows how shallow they are. It has nothing to do with you. You are not nothing. You should’ve never been exploited and made to feel as though you served someone else. You are wanted. I want you, Y/n. That means something. I know it does because I love you and I want you.” He finished, wiping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

In a broken whisper, “You love me?”

He smiled at her, leaning in and letting his lips rest just beside hers, “From the moment I met you.”

The words brought life back into her body as she softly giggled through the wetness on her cheeks, “I thought you were trying to make me fall in love with you. Didn’t think the plan was for you to fall in love with me too.”

It wasn’t, he thought.

He kissed her, “It’s hard not to fall in love with someone like you. You are my everything, Y/n.”

Right there. His last sentence echoed what had been repeating in her head for months. A person who loved her just as much as she loved them, what a sight.

“I love you too, you know.” She said, loving the way he continued to wipe residual tears and whisper soft words that contradicted the idea engrained in her head that she wasn’t meant for great things, that she wasn’t intelligent or a force to be reckoned with. Single-handedly, unknowingly, Lando changed her narrative and the idea that, once her parents were gone, she was useless.

He nodded, “I know. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

He wouldn’t, that was the truth. What this relationship was built on, though? He couldn’t bear to utter the words.

Lies.

—

Galas. Something she used to hate, but, with Lando’s hand on her thigh and his jokes in her ear, she began to find fun in them.

“Don’t you think that woman’s dress makes her look like a flamingo?” Lando lowly whispered as he discreetly pointed to someone across the room that had a light pink dress on, ruffled with feathers.

His comparison was spot on and Y/n had to stop herself from snorting out her drink, “Lando! Stop!”

She giggled and he leaned into her, the two a picture of young love. There were others sitting beside them at the table, drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses and observing the famous couple. In the six months they had been together, the public had not ceased to stop talking about the two. Lando had skyrocketed to worldwide fame, larger than what he had possessed before. Y/n being the internet’s it girl, heiress to billion-dollar oil companies and a young woman who had everything everybody else wanted, forced Lando into a large spotlight. There was traction surrounding his name and because of his connection to her, his companies, his career saw an increase in brand deals, income essentially. By just being her boyfriend, everything tied to Lando had exponentially grown. McLaren included. It was everything they had expected.

A little too much wine in one of Lando’s coworkers was dangerous as he blabbered out, “I’m surprised you two are still together!”

There were a few knowing chuckles around the table as everyone eyed each other. Lando gave him a fixed glare, dark and challenging as he tried to plead with the drunk man to stop talking.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in, “What do you mean?”

The man threw his hands up as he leaned back in his chair, “Just with the way you two got together, I didn’t think Lando would stick around for this long.”

“Y/n, let’s go.” Lando stood abruptly from the table, his hand in hers as he tried to pull her from the situation.

Y/n shook her head as all eyes stared at her, “No, Lando, what’s he talking about?”

Lando pleaded with her, “Y/n, listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Please. Come with me. Let’s leave.”

She was stuck, wanting to pry into the man’s mind, but seeing the way Lando was begging her to comply.

However, at the end of the day, she was a curious individual.

“Sorry,” She stuck her hand out to smooth down the table cloth, “Can you please elaborate?”

“Y/n-” Lando started, but she just shook her head.

His mind raced as reality dawned on him and the moment where he lost her came to fruition.

Wine sloshed out of his glass as the man drank the last sip before he began, “Lando started dating you because of your last name.”

There was a lingering smile on her lips from previously wanting to keep a happy demeanor at the Gala, but the moment the sentence fell from his lips, it gradually faded.

Lando sat back down beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm, the other on her thigh, and squeezed harshly.

“Y/n, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

The man scoffed, “What are you talking about?! I was there! I was the one who suggested you approach her. I was the one who laid out what would happen to your career if you dated Y/n Winchester. Come on, Lando, don’t be a liar.”

Her heart beat slowly as she scanned the table, the others still sipping on their glasses as they watched the scene play out. Their expressions, lacking shock, made her realize that every person sitting before her knew that Lando’s love for her was a joke. Everyone, but her.

Her head gradually turned to the side, capturing Lando’s eyes with hers. There was still pleading within them, but, this time, he was pleading for her to still love him, for her to not leave him.

To hell with him, she thought.

“Is this true?” She asked, her tone cold and distant as she ripped her arm and leg from his grasp.

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face in anxiety, “No, well, kind of. Yes, but- Y/n,” He shot up from his chair as she made a move to leave.

She grabbed her purse which was hung over the back of her chair, her legs making quick strides toward the exit. Lando, being taller than her, walked quickly beside her, spewing out words that now meant nothing to her.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He choked out. She didn’t have to look to know he was crying, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was half drunk the night we got together, so were you. I always thought you were gorgeous. What I’m trying to say, fuck, is that it was never truly fake for me. You did mean something to me. You mean something to me. Y/n, are you listening to me?”

She threw open the doors to the party, letting the cool air coat the cold blood running through her veins, and whipped around aggressively to face him.

“Did you mean it when you said it?” She yelled, strong front trying desperately to stay up as she crumbled to pieces on the inside.

Lando shook his head in confusion, “When I said what?”

She stopped her foot on the ground, heel threatening to snap under the force, “When you said you loved me! When you said I meant everything to you! When you said I had purpose! Did you mean it?!”

She screamed at him and he stepped closer, but she put a hand up, “Don’t fucking come near me.”

Lando stood helplessly, “Yes, of course, I meant it. Y/n, everything was real for me.”

She cocked her head, “Was it? When did it stop being a ploy for my last name?”

Lando let his head fall to look at the ground, “The morning after we slept together.”

She groaned loudly, tears now falling freely from her cheeks, “Oh! How sweet! So, after you had sex with me, you started truly feeling something for me. If that’s even fucking true. You know, Lando,” She willed his eyes to keep her stare as she yelled, “You’re no better than everybody in there. I told you how I’ve never had anybody be in my life without wanting what comes with having a name like mine. I told you, I confided in you, how much it hurt for a ten word name to mean more than the feelings I have, to mean more than who I am as a person. You’re no better than my father, my mother, and everybody else who has exploited me in the past. Actually!” She continued, not caring that Lando was wiping tears off his face with his white button up, “Actually, you’re worse than all of them. At least, they were obvious with wanting me for the things I could give them. You made me think you loved me. You made me think that you fell in love with me for who I am. You made me think that I was finally being seen as a human being.”

Lando shot back, “I do love you, don’t fucking fight that. Don’t question that. I sure as fuck fell in love with you for who you are and I see you as who you are. Your last name doesn’t mean shit to me, Y/n.”

She hit his chest with her hand, “But, it did! It did, Lando, and that makes this fucking tainted! You’re just like them! You’re just like-”

She broke down into sobs, crying pathetically into his arms as he tried to coax her. The sound of betrayal was evident in the way she cried, a different kind to the one he heard before when her parents dismissed her or someone tried gaining something from her. This betrayal cut deep because of the love that clutched her heart and refused to let go even in the wake of what he had done. This betrayal ruined any semblance of trust she had with the world, demolishing it for anyone that tried to do what he attempted; to love her.

A moment went by, Y/n gathering herself and realizing she laid in the arms of someone she no longer trusted, and she forcefully backed herself away from him. Wiping her tears with his suit jacket, the one a bit too big for her because it was tailored to his frame and the one he had given her earlier in the night when she had grown cold, Y/n stopped meeting his eye.

“Delete my number from your phone. Never fucking talk to me again. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.” She murmured, turning around and trying to walk down the dark street before Lando reached out to grab her arm.

When he forced her to turn around, his eyes were bloodshot and begging for forgiveness, begging for her, “Y/n, I love you. Please. Please.”

Still, she couldn’t meet his eye, softly and defeatedly whispering, “I will never be able to figure out if you love me for me or love me for what I can give to you. That is why this will never work. That is why you need to let go of my arm and let me go back to my apartment without you. That is why you need to let me go.”

He kept a hold on her arm and on the life he wanted them to have together, “Y/n, I can show you. I can show you how much you mean to me. Please, just give me another chance.”

She shook her head, “Goddamnit, Lando! Let fucking go of me! This is ruined! It will never be the same! You have done the worst possible thing. You have hurt me in the worst possible way. You have treated me the way everyone else has. I am not something you can use because you are greedy.”

He nodded his head intently, “I know. I know that. I always have.”

Fed up and emotionally distraught, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and no longer did he reach out for her when her last parting words were, “No, you always haven’t. If you always had, you would’ve never approached me and we would’ve never found ourselves here.”

A/N: part 2?

UPDATE: part 2 posted

1K notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 11 months ago

Text

I cut out the sex scene because it bordered on Noncon. This is pure horror, it’s not even meant to be seen as romantic.

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Monster

Yandere Cheater Hanayama x Afab Reader

TW: HORROR, Suicide (fake death), depressing themes, angst, delusion, Yandere behavior,etc

(Your name) blankly stared at the passport in her hands. this was it… She was finally leaving her neglectful husband. She would turn over a new leaf and live her life for herself for once.

No more arranged marriage. No more loneliness. No more sleepless nights from the women he’d bring to his room. (Your name) would finally be at peace.

The wind ran its fingers through her hair and tousled a bit. She wished the comfort was an actual person rather than the icy wind but life didn’t quite work out that way. She was a woman born into a crime family but she had no interest in continuing the legacy her family intended her to.

(Your name) had no desire to be a pawn piece used as a peace treaty amongst the rival family. She wanted love. She wanted to live. (Your name) didn’t want to be the submissive, demure wife of an oyabun who constantly fraternized with other women.

She tried to make it work, she truly did. She tried talking to him whenever she had the chance, she tried to cook for him, organize his schedule, do his paperwork, and she even tried to get him to walk with her in his rose garden, but he’d flat out ignore her. She merely wanted to make their relationship tolerable, she wouldn’t even care if he wanted to continue to see those promiscuous women so long as they were amicable with each other. Yet he hated her because she was the daughter of the rival gang that killed his father.

Hanayama Kaoru was as cold as ice. His heart permanently locked up and unthawable. If (your name) stayed in that manor and went through with the marriage, she had no doubt she’d be miserable with him for the rest of her life… so she did what any sane person would do. She ran.

(Your name) would start a life in a different country with a new name. She would be selfish… faking her death wasn’t even a hard task to do. She simply wrote some depressing diary entries that would bring an angsty teen to shame. She even wrote a suicide letter.

Poor, clumsy (your name) jumped off a cliff and drowned in the murky ocean never to be seen again. It was fool proof.

(Your name) adjusted the sunglasses on her face and continued her journey into the airport. Her small suitcase rolled behind her, the wheels clacked against the brick road.

It was the start of a dream… or so she thought.

Hanayama laid in his bed in thought. Where was she? (Your name) would usually be here around nine in the morning to make sure he was up…

Hanayama sat up in his bed and pushed the woman that was draped across his chest off. His dark eye turned toward the door. Why wasn’t she here?

Hanayama wrapped a robe around his bare body and made his way out of his room. He ignored the grumbles of his latest bed warmer to instead try to figure out where his wife was. Why wasn’t she here?

Hanayama noticed how quiet the manor was and it unnerved him…

Hanayama was shocked to see there was no breakfast made for him in his office and no (your name) in there to greet him… where was she?

Hanayama then paused. Maybe she decided to leave him alone like he asked?

Hanayama sighed and nodded. Yes… that’s what happened. She must have finally decided to listen to him!

And so Hanayama went on to continue his day but the dread in his stomach hadn’t gone away.

His gut knew there was something horribly amiss.

A week had gone by since Hanayama had last seen (your name). His glass of water was no longer full beside him and his desk was unorganized. Hanayama’s meals weren’t made correctly and his schedule was in disarray.

A week without her and Hanayama now realized just how much his wife did… and it bothered him.

Hanayama stood outside the door of her room with a frown. He should talk to her… he needed her help with the paperwork.

“Wife. Are you in there?” Yet there was no response. He felt his hair stand up on his arm as alarm bells loudly rung in his head. She always answered him… she would have ran to him if he came to see her first.

Hanayama slid the door open to her room and was shocked to see how plain it was. This room didn’t look like it belonged to the wife of an oyabun. This room looked like a servant’s. Where were the decorations and the clothes?

Hanayama felt his stomach twist when he noticed just how little she owned and how cold it was in here. Was this why she’d ask for blankets? Why she wanted to go shopping?

Hanayama felt guilt sink into him. He was an awful husband- what was that?

Hanayama began to tremble in fear at the letter on her desk. His hands shakily opened it to read its contents. And not even after the first paragraph, he ran out the door.

She couldn’t have killed herself… she wouldn’t have. She loved being here with him. She loved him. She’d never do that.

Hanayama ignored the shouts of his men as he ran onto the cliff behind the Hanayama compound. His heart drummed in his ears from his scared he was. She was okay… she didn’t actually do it…

But the sandals at the edge of the cliff told Hanayama everything he needed to know.

Hanayama’s hands shook as he picked up the dainty, worn out sandals. Tears gathered in his eyes in realization.

(Your name) jumped off this cliff and it was all his fault…

Hanayama heard his men shout as they paused behind him in shock.

“Send out a search party to find my wife’s body.” Hanayama ordered his men who obeyed. They quickly left him to his own devices.

Hanayama held the sandals close to his chest as the tears began to fall. His wife… his poor wife.

This was all his fault.

(Your name) really loved her life in Hawaii. It was such a beautiful island and the people were so friendly!

(Your name) smiled as she laid in the sun to tan. She wondered if Hanayama was finally happy since she was out of his hair?

She shook her head to get rid of the thought. Why did she care if her neglectful husband was happy? It’s not like he ever cared about her happiness…

Hanayama never went on walks with her and he never ate a single meal with her. Hell, they never consummated their marriage. He went to bed with some other woman on their wedding night just to let her know how he felt about her.

Hanayama probably left for joy when he found that letter. He no longer had to deal with such an awful wife and he was free to do whatever his heart pleased so (your name) should do the same.

(Your name) went back to enjoying her drink. It was better to forget the old life she had, it’s not like Hanayama ever cared about her in the first place.

(Your name)’s funeral was practically empty save for Hanayama and Kizaki. It made Hanayama feel even worse that her own family didn’t even come.

Her body was never found either so her sandals would be buried. It made this whole ordeal even more depressing.

Hanayama had read her diary and was so distraught to find out just how much she cared for him. Of how she had originally really wanted their relationship to work since she didn’t have love at home. But she eventually just wanted to be friends if he didn’t want to ever touch her. To at least be civil with one another if he couldn’t love her.

(Your name) would write about how she had always wanted to go on a date or just a walk in his rose garden. Of how she just wanted to spend time with the husband that hated her. Of how she’d like to start gaze with him and listen to his troubles… he never deserved her.

Hanayama felt like the worse man in the world because she had ended her own life to make him happy. To leave him alone like he wanted her to… but he no longer wanted that.

“They always say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone…” Hanayama whispered as he placed a rose on (your name)’s casket. “I will never touch anyone else ever again. I will atone for my sin of neglecting you.”

Kizaki frowned at how distraught his boss was. (Your name) was a really sweet young woman but he didn’t think Hanayama would be so affected by her death. He’d give him time to move on, Kizaki was sure Hanayama would be back to normal in no time…

Hanayama now slept in (your name)’s old room. It was so cold in there but he felt closer to his wife… like she was here with him.

Hanayama would bury himself into her pillow and inhale her soft scent every night to help him sleep. He missed her so much… he missed his beautiful wife.

Hanayama often dreamt of her smiling at him when she used to bring him breakfast. Of how her face would light up whenever she’d ask about the rose garden… he swore he heard her voice from time to time. (Your name) haunted him.

Sometimes he’d dream that she was still here and she was pregnant with their first child. Vivid images conjured in his mind of her smiling face as the two of them had a picnic together in the rose garden she loved so much. Or maybe even the two of them visiting Hawaii together so she could swim with the dolphins?

Hanayama would never forgive himself for what he destroyed. For how he pushed his wife to do such a horrible thing. Hanayama would punish himself till the day he died for being the reason such a sunny person was snuffed out of existence.

“I miss you so much, (your name). I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

Hanayama apologized to her every night in her room, he just wanted her back… he wanted his wife back so he could make it all better to her.

If she reappeared before him, he’d be the perfect man for her. Hanayama would take her out on dates and have her sit beside him as he did paperwork. He’d sleep beside her and he’d make love to her every night.

Hanayama would be the ideal husband if she was alive. Yet that was all a dream he had… or so he thought.

Half a year had went by and Hanayama looked worse for wear. He had bags under his eyes and his face was a bit gaunt. Kizaki began to be worried sick about Hanayama.

“How about a vacation?” Kizaki offered Hanayama. “You could go to Hawaii?”

Hanayama felt his heart clench at the mention of that island. (Your name) had always wanted to visit there… she wrote about it in her diary.

Kizaki frowned at Hanayama until the large man rose up. “Yes… I think that’s will be nice.”

Hopefully Hanayama pulled himself together on that little trip.

Hanayama felt his heart stop when he arrived to the hotel in Hawaii. There she was… there was (your name)! But how was she alive? Was this some sick twist of fate?

“I can help whosever next-“ (your name) felt her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when he ex husband stood before her. What was he doing here-

She was suddenly pulled over the counter and into his large arms as he latched onto her like a lifeline. His face buried into her hair while his nose greedily inhaled her scent. She was real… she was alive!

(Your name) tried to pull away from him but Hanayama’s grip was inescapable. His whole body trembled in relief. “(Your name)… I’m so happy you’re alive. Let’s go home.”

“I think you’re mistaken-“ (your name) gasped when Hanayama suddenly kissed her. His large lips practically swallowed hers in a hungry kiss. Why was her ex husband so strange? He’s never cared about her before, hell, he’s never kissed her before. So why did he act like they were long lost lovers?

“Let’s go home. I’m going to make everything right this time. I think the boat is still at the dock so this must be destiny...” (Your name) could do little to change the Oyabun’s mind. The giant threw her over his shoulder like a savage as he carried her out of her job at the hotel.

“Hanayama, please let me down-“

“I read your diary every single day since you disappeared. I’m going to make it all right.” Hanayama quietly rambled. “I will live the rest of my life as your one and only husband. There will never be anyone else, if you want I’ll get rid of them.”

“That’s unnecessary-“

“It is necessary.” Hanayama interrupted her with a sigh. “I have to atone for my grave sin of negligence.”

Hanayama set her down on the boat before he gestured to the bewildered crew to take them back to Japan. The silence was so thick, a knife could cut through it.

A few moments went by, the sound of waves and the engine of the boat their only soundtrack until Hanayama’s deep voice spoke up.

“When we get home, we can walk together in the rose garden.” Hanayama engulfed her small hands in his large palms. “We can have another wedding and this time, we can consummate our marriage properly.”

Hanayama sighed dreamily when he brought her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I’ll spoil you this time around. I forgive you for your little runaway attempt but this time I’m never letting you go.”

(Your name) gulped as pure terror swallows her whole. This man was no longer her old husband, this was a man who had gone completely insane with guilt to the point he didn’t realize what reality was… this was a monster.

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arabellasleopardcoat · 11 months ago

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Bestiary (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Warnings: Heavy smut, not much dialogue. P in V sex. First time.

A/N: Who would have thought the most enthusiastic consent I have ever written with Daemon would be in a fic with nearly no dialogue?

Being coached through your wedding vows is not a good omen for your marriage. At least, that is what your husband must think, by the thunderous look on his face. You fight the urge to scream at him that you have practiced for this moment and that you do not need to be coached through the vows. It would be no use. The two of you do not understand each other.

Everything is strange to you in Westeros, from the language to the wedding ceremony. They make you cut your lips and hand, in a procedure you do not enjoy. Your husband does the same. Your blood flows into a goblet, from which you will have to drink later on.

It's barbaric. You suppose it must symbolize the joining of bloodlines in the crudest way.

At least Daemon kisses you at the end, a cold brush of his lips against yours that tells you he is still mad. He had probably felt betrayed, being forced into this arrangement you entered willingly.

If you had known he was that petty, you would have not shown your hand so fast. Your father had wanted dragons, which meant becoming part of House Targaryen. Daemon was the only one available for you to ensnare in your web.

As any good hunter, you had watched your prey first, taking notes of his behavior. Only an afternoon was needed to understand you started the race with a disadvantage. His eyes followed Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys and her little daughter, but never lingered on other women.

While you might have lacked the silver hair, you did not lack the wits and charms necessary to be taken in consideration.

You had needed a few days to ready your song, but you had approached him not even a week later. He had been sitting in the library, so you had knocked on the table twice to draw his attention.

Daemon had lifted his eyes from the scroll he was reading, annoyed. He had a handsome face, decorated with age lines that only served to make him look more regal. He looked more the part of the King than his brother, a decaying corpse that you had heard had also acquired his own nubile bride.

Such was the fate of the daughters of powerful men. Sold to other powerful men, old enough to be their fathers, birthing them their own litter of sons and daughters. Sons that would grow up to become powerful men in their own right, daughters that would become pawns to establish dynasties. On and on it went.

Daemon had spoken then. His words were much harsher than those of the language you were used to, lacking the airy song of the languages similar to the one from the Rhoynar. You had not understood. You did not speak a lick of the Common Tongue.

No silver hair, no words, but plenty of resources. You had placed the book you had brought with you on the table, and looked at him.

His eyes had lit up with curiosity. He recognized the title. He spoke again, intrigued.

Despite his tone sounding much more auspicious, you had no other option than to shake your head and speak, with a tremulous voice.

“Bodmagho.” It's the only word you know, one that you have prepared especially for this. But just in case your pronunciation is not perfect, you open the book and mimic the gesture of passing the pages.

Daemon looks stunned. He says something else, still in the Common Tongue. You were able to tell from the intonation he was asking a question, but you didn't know what it was about.

“Bodmagho.” You repeated, stubbornly. You placed your book down and pointed to it.

Daemon sighed. He pointed to the chair. You sat, happy as a clam.

“Prince Daemon.” He pointed at himself. Then, to you. “Lady…?”

You told him your name. He nodded.

“Daor.” He shook his head. “No.”

You stared. He shook his head again. You understood that no, daor and shaking head meant the same.

“Daor. No.” You shook your head. Daemon squeezed your shoulder, a proud smile on his face.

Your father told you that afternoon that you were to be married to him. Just as you had made efforts to catch Daemon, your father had been setting his trap.

Daemon did not oppose, nor encourage the match, but he was angry at you. Angry that you knew before him and tried to charm him into doing your bidding.

Men like him, you learn, like to be the ones pulling the strings. They hate being treated like hounds, even if that is what they are.

You get no further lessons.

This is how you manage to get to your wedding feast only knowing two words. Teach and no. It makes you the most riveting company, and so, it's no wonder you are soon ushered into a chamber with your new husband.

You had not noticed before, but it is the first time you are alone with him since the morning at the library. To you, it had been a matter of no consequence. You had to marry a powerful man, one day. Your father decided it should be him because he wanted dragons. It was as simple as that.

As a rich man, your father had known rich men only get richer at times of unrest. And unrest was coming for the Seven Kingdoms. He could smell it in the air, hear it in the whispers of the common folk. Princess Rhaenyra wasn’t going to inherit without issue.

Your family moved here for that reason. An opportunity to get richer could not be dismissed. Your father had taken one look at the dragons and decided that they were the key to turning his legacy into an empire.

Giant war machines that could level castles in one afternoon. Raze a city to the ground in mere hours. Fire so hot it could melt stone. They could not be bought, you had to be a Targaryen to have them. It was only natural to turn into one, then.

Your children would get dragons. You would provide funds and as many children as you could, and House Targaryen the magic in their veins. Simple business transaction. But apparently, Daemon disagreed.

His face is thunderous. You can tell he is about to berate you. He starts talking, brows pinched together and an accusing finger pointed towards you.

Has he forgotten you do not speak his language? You step closer and poke his arm, hard.

It was the wrong choice. Daemon's face turns even more murderous. His lips twist into a snarl, teeth bared. His posture turns aggressive. He puffs up his chest, he advances on you. The Prince tries to intimidate you through his body language alone.

You are not a small woman. But you are young, and you do not train as much as he does. His looming over you feels menacing, and it reminds you once again of the fate his late wife was rumored to have suffered.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Daemon is forcing you to walk backwards, pushing your forehead and nose with his. You either move, or get a broken nose and a concussion.

Daemon is terrifying. You will not cross him again, you think to yourself. Only a fool goes around poking dragons with a stick. You feel your palms starting to sweat, a knot forming in your throat. You fight the urge to cry.

The back of your knees hits the mattress, and you fall into the furs with a small noise of surprise. Your husband does not lose any time. He gets right into your face, trying to intimidate you even more.

But if you hope to survive this marriage, to make it work as your father has requested, you can't bend. Daemon will never respect you if you do. He will see you as no more than a frightened girl, who will not disagree with him and serve for little beyond warming his bed. You are not that. You will build an empire, a dynasty out of his dragons and your wealth. The only thing you can do is persevere or break trying.

Daemon scowls at you. He notices the change in your eyes, the fight coming back to you.

“Daor.” You say, staring him down with all your might. It doesn't matter if you are lying down, and he is hovering over you, pinning you under him. You will triumph.

Daemon doesn't heed the warning. He starts tugging at the buttons of your bodice, tiny pearls sent flying all over the room. The gesture is as brutal as it is calculated. It is meant to remind you of your place, always under him from now on. Daemon has a right to your body, and he intends to exercise it as he sees fit. You are no more than an object, and if you cry or scream, it is not relevant.

Despite knowing why he is doing it, you can't avoid grimacing. He looks more beast than a man, snarling over you, ripping your clothes. It's a sight that would scare any woman, no matter how cold.

You look up at him. You give him your own little snarl. Daemon pauses. It's not the reaction he was expecting. He wanted you to cry. You would never give him the satisfaction.

It's a balancing act. You will have to bring him to heel, but soothe his pride in the next act, less he turns on you. Push away a man too much, and he will think you are disrespecting him. He will call you names, thinking you are the problem. Daemon feels entitled to you. You need to show him he is not, but that you are giving yourself to him. He needs to value you. The treasure to his dragon.

“Daor!” You say, firmly. You push him away. Whatever he anticipated, you giving him a fight wasn't something he was prepared for. It shows in the way he folds, stunned by your behavior. You give him hard little slaps to the chest, until you manage to get him off you.

Daemon's scowl turns more confused than angry. He looks at you as if you are a particularly challenging riddle to crack. He rightens his clothes and starts to retreat.

“Daor.” You repeat, grabbing at his shirt to keep him in place. You do not want him to leave.

Daemon wretches free from your grip on his arm. He mutters something, angered.

“Daor.” You use his trick against him, stepping right into his path and forcing him to back off. You use your body to make him advance backwards, toward the bed.

He sits on the edge of it, still scowling. You giggle, making Daemon madder still. You look at him with what you hope is a seductive expression and pull your bodice down.

“Bodmagho?” You ask him, as your dress pools around your feet, leaving you in a sheer shift. Daemon's eyes darken. His expression changes into an amused smile, and he gestures for you to come to him.

You do. You step closer and get on his lap. His hands envelop your waist, warm and calloused.

Then, the unexpected. Daemon grabs your hair and pulls, forcing your head back. You moan, pain and arousal mixing into an unknown emotion that makes the place between your legs slick.

You can feel his breath against your neck, making you shiver. His face comes closer, and closer. Daemon stares into your eyes, lips slightly parted. You mirror his expression, feeling as if you are being consumed by your lust.

He arches an eyebrow. Never been one to shy away from a challenge, you brush his lower lip with his thumb. Daemon parts his lips and sucks it in his mouth.

The shock must have shown on your face because he laughs, giving your thumb a playful bite. You squirm, instinct overpowering modesty, and roll your hips against his.

The two of you stare at each other. Closer, and closer, until his features blur, until two purple eyes turn into one. A dragon turned cyclops by the mere force of lust. There is hunger and want, and confusion. Both of you are so close that you are sharing the same air, the same breath. And Daemon pulls, and you are kissing, and you shake in his arms, feeling like how you think the gods must have felt when the cyclopes formed the lighting.

His hands go to greedily knead at your thighs, slipping under your shift. His palms feel rough against your skin, impatient. The shift rides up, up, up. You mewl against his mouth, desperately reaching for something unknown to you but that you know Daemon will help you reach.

You are restless as he pets you, biting at your mouth, hands sinking in his hair. You tug him towards your neck, knowing his kisses, scorching hot, would burn even sweeter along your nape and ears.

Daemon, though, has other plans. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips. “Vūjigon ” He says. He touches his mouth. “Vūjigon”

You kiss him, softly. “Vūjigon”

He pets your hair.

“Vūjigon.” And he points to his collarbones. You frown in confusion, thinking perhaps the word doesn't mean what you think it does. He sighs and leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the space between your collarbones.

“Vūjigon.” You perk up, and start kissing his shoulders. Your hands pull his shirt more open, letting you bite and lick more of his flesh. The urge to consume and be consumed is overpowering, making you desperate to touch him.

Daemon laughs. He pulls you upwards. Can't he see you are starving?

“Daor.” He says, when you try to go back to it. You give him your fiercest pout. Daemon tuts at you.

He squeezes one of your breasts, making you moan, before cruelly twisting the bud. You gasp, your nails digging on his naked shoulders.

“Shhh.” Daemon soothes you, his hand going to squeeze your breast tenderly once more. “Daor?”

You don't know how to tell him what you want, so you grab his hand and make him pinch the tender bud again. Daemon smiles. He kisses you, muttering something fervently on your lips.

He lays you down on the bed, despite your attempts to sit up. Daemon pins you down with a growl, hand on your chest.

You can't help it. No matter the warning, you squirm as if you were in pain. It certainly feels like it. There is some sort of hunger in your belly, making you want to rub your core against him. You can feel your shift starting to become wet right above your tailbone. Daemon has you so bothered you are dripping into the shift and the bed.

Daemon gives you another growl and leans down to bite your breast over the fabric of your shift. It's meant to be punishment, but you arch into it, gasping.

He laughs. He takes as much of it as it can fit in his mouth, sucking greedily. The noises are obscene. The sight must be, too. Your mouth, open, moaning yourself into a frenzy. Daemon, nipping, biting, sucking, like a man starved. Your shift with two giant wet spots, one at the chest and the other by your arse.

You moan, surprised at the feeling. You had never thought bodies could be used in such a way before. Nor had you hoped for him to please you so eagerly.

His lips close around your bud. His tongue twirls around it, lavishing it with attention. You grab at his hair, his nape, desperately trying to hold onto something. Daemon just sucks harder on your breast. You moan, and moan, and moan some more. Desperate little sounds, gathering in the air around a desperate girl.

He switches to your other breast. Your shift feels sticky on your skin, so you start trying to take it off. The task distracts you enough for his hand to find its way to your core, and you squeak at the first sensation of his fingers against it.

Daemon smiles against your skin. He presses a finger inside you, and you squeal some more. He lets go of your breast to better gaze into your overwhelmed face, seemingly getting an enjoyment out of it.

Another finger joins the first. You cry out. It stings a bit. Daemon shushes you, kissing your cheek. He rubs at something above your opening that makes you squirm in delight.

His other hand comes into your sight. Daemon makes a gesture, two fingers together, separating. You stare. He nuzzles you, his cheek against yours, before repeating it.

You nod with a pout.

He starts prying you open slowly, this time. Despite enjoying causing pain, it appears your cooperation has granted you privileges with Daemon. He understood the distress on your face, and read you correctly enough to know it was not going to go well if he kept going as he was.

Daemon rubs at your shoulders, soothingly. You understand you need to relax, and force your body to do so. He kisses you in reward, slow and sweet, coaxing you to him.

You nod again. Daemon moves back, settling himself by your side. He takes your shift away, pressing soft little kisses to each new inch of skin revealed.

The sudden removal of your last layer makes you shiver a little. Your skin is wet from his previous ministrations and rapidly cooling. You plaster yourself to him, seeking warmth.

He chuckles, grabbing your arse to move you slightly out of the way. You scowl, not sure why Daemon is doing so, until you realize he is taking off his breeches.

“Daemon.” You whisper, softly. There is a part of you that is already cringing at the promise of pain the loss of your maidenhead will bring.

“Daor?” He asks you, one of his hands petting your cunt. It makes you shiver.

“Bodmagho.” You grasp at his shoulders, steadying yourself. Daemon lines the two of you. You feel his member at your entrance, holding you open and threatening to spear you apart. It feels scorching against your skin.

He helps you impale yourself on his member. It's not pleasant at first. Property dictates that you should not let him see your discomfort. You should just bear it like a good wife and allow him to chase his pleasure unbothered.

But you know Daemon enjoys causing pain. He thrives on it. So you let your eyes fill with tears, and your face goes slack and overwhelmed.

He smiles. He licks your tears away, and mumbles something. You squeal, and it only excites him more.

“Bodamagho.” Daemon pinches the flesh on your hip, clearly calling you to focus. His hands move your pelvis back and forth, back and forth, until you are hissing in pleasure, your hands on his chest, doing the movement yourself.

“Vūjigon.” You demand, moving your hips just like he taught you. Daemon is too focused on aiding you bounce by thrusting upwards to pay attention to you. When he doesn't obey, you give a tug to his hair.

He snarls at you. You snarl back. So he grabs your wrists and pushes sideways, and suddenly, you are under him and Daemon is still thrusting into you.

You are desperate for closeness. You scrunch up your face and wrap your legs around his back. Daemon looks down at you, and bites your shoulder. He is not pleased with your perceived attempt to take control.

Realizing your mistake, you shake your head.

“Daor.” You rub at his back with your foot, gently. You hold him close, and nuzzle his neck, delighting in his scent. Never you had thought before you would enjoy the smell of sweat and some sort of aromatic oil, yet here you are. “Vūjigon.”

Daemon's expressions softens. He leans in and gives you a kiss. You make pleased, chirping noises, trying to show him that was precisely what you wanted.

He complies, releasing your hands. You enthusiastically hug him. It helps you anchor yourself against the unrelenting waves of pleasure.

His hands, now freed from yours, are everywhere. Twisting your buds, rubbing at your pearl, squeezing your waist. Daemon whispers nonsense in your ears, takes the lobe between his teeth. He aids you, tilting your hips with his hands, reaching deeper.

You heard a story once, about Westeros. A white hart was said to come to the greatest Kings alive. A magnificent beast, tall as a man, with skin made of the purest snow and antlers as long and imposing as the branches of an ancient tree. If a King encountered it, it was a good omen for his rule. It would be just and prosperous, blessed by the Gods.

What did they do with the hart? Keep it in Kingswood, perhaps? You had made the mistake of asking, once. You had been told that they used the best spear they had. That men held the hart down, and they gutted it from head to belly.

The perfect, regal beast, fur as pale as snow. The pristine white sheets under you. Blood tainting the white. What a way to go.

You understood then why they called it a small death. You were sweating, squealing like a beast being gutted, thighs trembling under Daemon's hands. It was too much and too little, and you felt yourself reaching it, yearning for it.

You did not care if you burned, moth to a flame, maiden to a dragon. Daemon seemed to realize it because his hand went to rub at your pearl, and he leaned in.

“….” He was talking, but it was in that strange language of his, and your ears were ringing, you felt about to explode. Your body responded to his tone, though. Gentle, loving, coaxing you over the edge with a scream so fierce you might as well have been one of those weeping women that appeared far north.

Daemon grinned at you. A fierce, proud expression, eyes crinkling in the corners. You pulled him into a kiss, and raked your nails down his back, feeling the skin yield like butter under your fingers. It spurred him on, and with a gasp and a bite to your shoulder, Daemon was shattering inside you.

He collapsed on top of you with a laugh. You smiled. Daemon pulled you to rest, back flush against his chest, and you understood each other better than those who spoke the same, common tongue, did.

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp prompt #dash baxter

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

Text

Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck.

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob.

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder.

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was.

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house.

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

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help.

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look.

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch.

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again.

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

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

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale.

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison.

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet.

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now.

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself.

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches.

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head.

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot.

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?"

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

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

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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#bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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strawberymilku · 10 months ago

Text

Checkmating You

featuring: Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader

genre: smut, friends to lovers troupe, kinda vanilla sex, semi-public, oral receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: wow, wow i didn't knw blade and danheng smut would get a lot of notes, tysm for tht. he's my first 5*, and forever has my heart. its basically friends to lover, and jy being freaky deaky on the chess board, wink wink.

word count: 3.9k

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Yeah I will win this time," she replied, organizing the chess pieces, she looked rather calm, unlike the other times, she was so mad that she wiped all the chess pieces off the table in rage because she hates to lose over her friend, Jing Yuan, the general of Xianzhou Luofu. She sipped her tea, coming up with a strategy in her head.

Jing Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle at her determination, picking up his own hand of pieces. He took a sip of his tea, his eyes narrowing as he studied her body language and tried to understand the strategy she was planning. He raised an eyebrow playfully. “You sure? Because I know that look you’ve got…” He paused for a moment before breaking apart the silence. “I’ve got something up my sleeve this time. You won’t be so sure you’ll win this time.”

"How sure are you, that I won't win this time?" her eyes shifted boringly into his golden ones, moving the pawn two steps forward, she won’t lose this time, for sure.

“Pretty sure…” he replied with a yawn, his eyes glinting mischievously. She could tell he wasn’t lying.

“You think that pawn’s going to save you?” the general asked, almost mocking her. This time, his hands were hidden underneath the table as he moved each piece strategically.

“I’m feeling more ruthless this time,” he continued, his eyes narrowing on her while she made her next move.

She made the left knight move forward, eyes looking up to see his reaction and focus on the board. She rather not talk to give herself a mysterious appearance.

His golden eyes narrow as he takes note of her move. The general's face remained stoic as he moved his pawn forward to keep it in check. His smirk shifted into a small smile as he glanced at her eyes, studying them. "Hmm... not too bad," he says, his lips tilting upwards, she just reminded him of when they were teenagers, and how silly that he used to have a crush on her.

The general moved one of his rooks forward, and they exchanged glances again. He seemed to be analyzing her every move and thinking ahead, his heart thumped more when he stole a few looks at her determined face.

"I have a question, how come you're not married yet?" she brought up another sensitive topic, she knew how to tick him off as she moved the right side of her knight forward. It was too much for Jing Yuan to double-check if he heard her correctly and if she was really asking about his marital status.

Jing Yuan shifted his eyes up to hers, and she could see how the general was thrown off just as she expected.

"Why is that a topic of interest?" he asked, his voice even and steady as he moved his rook to a good position. She was trying to throw him off his game for sure.

"No, it's funny how you are popular, and yet you're single, aren't you close to your thirties?" she spoke as if time was a warning, she waited for him to finish his move.

"Popularity and romantic relationships aren't correlated," the man said in a calm voice, avoiding the question about his single-ness entirely. It was true that he was popular, and many women had an interest in him, but he seemed to prefer being alone.

He moved his knight forward, but then looked back at her, his voice slightly lowering. "Are you asking because you're interested in me?"

She never knew that question would backfire on her, she furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head. She was obviously blushing from the unexpected question from her one true friend, she cleared her throat to maintain her composure, with a simple ‘no’.

‘Bullseye’, he tilted his head back before chuckling and his voice in a husk, leaning in towards her slightly. "Maybe I should ask another question in return. Why are you blushing all of a sudden?" he seemed to know how to play with her strings, leaning in a little closer, making eye contact with her.

"I-uh, let's just finish the game shall we?" she cleared her throat once more as she could sense his breath so closely towards her, throwing her off, he indeed made her lose words and for a moment she forgot what strategy she was using for chess. He has the upper hand here, of course. He is Jing Yuan.

The general can't help but smile lightly. She was flustered. There was a silence between them before he spoke up again. "I take it that means you lied about not being interested?" his eyes weren’t on the board, his eyebrow raising suggestively as his fingers tapped the table playfully, patiently waiting for her answer.

"What?!" she looked up at him. "N-no way, I only see you as a friend," she started stuttering, she knew he was playing his psychological tricks on her. She already fumbled on the chess moves, making a grave mistake.

Minutes passed by, and the general was enjoying seeing her get nervous and flustered. He had her all to himself, and he was going to take advantage of the situation while he had it. “Checkmate,” he was smugged with his tactics. The girl was left speechless, she looked so hot and bothered, she didn’t like losing like this again, was he playing with her feelings this time too?

“Then… what’s with the blushing?” asked Jing Yuan, leaning forward as if he was going in for a kiss, his breath grazing her lips. It was only just a centimetre apart.

"No, no it's the weather obviously-" her words were cut off with a kiss, really? Right in front of the game?

He had made his move, not the chess, he couldn’t lose her like he lost his chance before; he never really cared about playing chess with her, it was the time he enjoyed with her. He kissed her, enjoying the feeling of their lips meeting and the surprise that crossed her expression.

He pulled away after a magical moment between them, smiling down at her. "You didn't seem very interested a moment ago," he whispered into her ears, leaning his forehead against hers.

She knew he put her in a cupid’s chokehold, she covered her face out of embarrassment, red spreading across her cheeks, it was time. Time to confess all the feelings they had suppressed for years:

"Yeah, I like you. A lot, since we were teenagers," she admitted with a blurt, not daring to look into his powerful eyes.

Jing Yuan's lips curved upward into a small smile. Actually, it was the real checkmate he was aiming for earlier, his breath tickling her ear. "You have feelings for me? Really?" he whispered, one of his hands coming up to rest against her cheek. He was genuinely surprised at how this love game turned out.

"I, I do, I thought it was impossible so I tried to move on.." she coughed up all the words finally, she had been holding, gazing into his golden eyes.

"You thought it was impossible to love *me*?" he asks with a light smile, his eyebrows creasing together curiously.

He didn’t seem to understand why she thought it was impossible to love him, but the general took in her reaction. Her eyes are so soft, and her blush is so adorable. How could he possibly refuse her?

He shifted his seat closely before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him.

As he looked deeply into her eyes, "How could you think it was impossible? My entire being and heart belongs to you," the general whispered like sugar was a thing before he ate just now, his eyes beginning to shine in the dim lighting of the courtyard.

"Not like. *Really* like. You're not just a good friend or my best friend to me..." Jing Yuan spoke in a softer tone, still hugging her in his broad shoulders, his voice barely escaping his lips.

"Would you like to be my love and my other half? I want to care for you, protect you, and love you till the end of my days... and beyond," Jing Yuan finally had the urge to confess and asked her out, his heart pounding in his chest, as he waited for her reply.

"I would love to become your lover..I want to nurture you and support you and love you until my days end.." she said in the sentence with more boldness, it is time, Time that they develop this relationship more extremely matter.

He liked that answer, how much she was giving in towards his proposal. His face brightened like a warning sun to her response, his smile growing wider than ever. The general's heart pounded in his chest rapidly, and his eyes were on her lips. This was a moment he's been waiting for since they were teenagers.

"You'll be my lover? Is that a yes?" the general asked again, wanting confirmation before he pulled her into another kiss.

"Yes.." she replied, leaning her face closer towards his lips, as their lips collided together like two worlds bonded. It was just him and her, them against the world. The background noises of sparrows didn’t seem to be in the picture or the sound of the waterfall at their back.

Their lips moved in unison, not hiding their feelings away, his hands wrapping around her. He pulled her even closer, wanting each piece of her to be pressed against him. They kissed passionately - neither wanted to let go easily for now...

Their lips didn't break away from one another for a long time, even though it was probably quite late. He had always known he loved this woman, and now, finally, he could call her his lover.

He wanted to claim her, no he needed to claim her

Hence, he went feral for his desire for her. Their kiss suddenly became a hot mess, as Jing Yuan placed her on the large chessboard, not even wiping the pieces away,

"Jing Yuan?!" she gasped as he made her lay down on the huge board with some of the pieces remaining on the board, he had been longing to do this whenever they played chess. He wanted to claim her as his, right on the board, he had been holding his patience as it was wearing thin.

“Nothing,” the general replied nonchalantly, his voice thickened with desire and as he leaned closer towards his body.

He placed one hand on her cheek, another hand pinning her wrist to the board for a moment, kissing her for a few seconds, his eyes looking down at her in pure adoration - wanting her. His other hand travels down her neck, gliding her collarbone, and down to her thigh, where his hand finally rested.

Kisses weren’t enough, his breath was getting closer to hers. His hands move to touch her, exploring her body, but he pulls away for a moment to give her a chance to respond. “Is this too fast? *Can I have you right here, right now?*” begging for her permission to please her right on the chessboard.

"N-no, go on.." she looked pretty on the chess board with the chess pieces lying around in his eyes, a body sculpted to look beautifully aligned with the other chess pieces, her breaths hitched on his neck, making him go crazy with her warm vanilla scent, he wished to smell further.

The general whispered into her ear, his breath brushing against it and making her warm. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the moment sink in as he moved in to kiss her again, bruising her soft red lips with his rough ones.

His lips met her neck as he parted away from the gentle kisses, and his hands slowly began to glide up her arms. He wanted to take her shirt off, but he still wanted to make sure she was comfortable for a while. But the general is losing control of his thoughts - his desire for her is growing out of control.

He couldn’t control himself as blood rushed between his thighs, she was so beautiful enough to want to claim her right on the chessboards, she was his wildest dream.

"You're my queen, you know that?" he replied putting the queen piece in her mouth, making her bite on it. "Good, I will now make you feel like one," his hands were touching her whole body, ready to please her, as a queen should be treated right.

He made her the queen in more than one way, and Jing Yuan loved every second of it.

He couldn't help but touch her and kiss her neck, he wanted to worship her. He wanted to be devoted to his Queen. His lips nibbled on her neck, with a red mark, his voice filling her with admiration and want.

A king needs his queen on the board, doesn’t he?

Jing Yuan didn't even care anymore that they were outside in a public area. Not that Lieutenant Yanqing would intrude right now, he was off to a prolonged mission to chase the Stellaron Hunters, and he let the prisoner escape on purpose just for this moment.

The general leaned down, his breath on her neck making her skin feel hot. "Are you... okay with this?" he asks calmly, as his lips move to kiss her neck marking her, he was strong enough to tear up her clothing with ease, ripping them apart, they were covering her beauty indeed.

He gasped as he took a moment of appreciation for her curvy body, naked, he loved every part of it. His lips pressed on her chest, kissing it with each praise, the general taking his time to make sure she was comfortable with him. “Your skin is so soft, my love,” he whispered after kissing her stomach too, showering with every possible kiss until his hands reached her soaked-up panties.

The heat on her skin quickly gets intense, and the general's fingers begin to gently touch her wet folds, rubbing her nub making the queen piece she was biting, fall out of her mouth as he rubs against her wet slick, making the sloppiest noises and a moan escaping from her lips.

“So wet, for me, maybe it’s true you have feelings for me, yes?” he chuckled near her ears with a coy tone, prepping her entrance with her juicy coat on his double digits of fingers. “Can I have your taste, queen?” he was such a gentleman for wanting to please her, pushing in her wet cunt, in and out with a pace upwards, his fingers could feel her velvet walls tightly.

“And so tight for me, I can’t wait to feel that on my cock,” his lips let out a few moans, ramming her tight hole, taking his two sloppy fingers, licking the white liquid on his hand, admiring as if it was an artwork he has done on her, tasting every drop of it.

“You taste nice as well, I think I want more~” he teased as he spread her thighs with the force he had on her, “Please?” he demanded if she wanted more as well, giving a peck on the thighs, looking at her hungrily. He literally wanted to eat her right away, like a wolf, pouncing on his prey. His golden orbs glistened, waiting for her pleas.

“Y-yes, general. I want you to taste me too,” her breaths became heavier, and there was embarrassment still written on her face, therefore, he placed his head between her thighs, kissing all her wet folds, licking her up, tasting the hot liquids melting on his tongue, pleasing her as much as he wanted.

The boner in his pants grew further, hot pre-cum leaking out of his underwear, as he let out a growl, licking her sensitive bud aggressively, he looked up for a while to pause if she was having a moment of her life as well, with a smug look. He is indeed, doing a good job in giving pleasure towards his queen. God, he couldn’t wait to prove how much love he has for you.

“Would you want me to continue more, my queen?” he gave a teasing look, and she couldn’t help but give a pathetic whiney noise, saying yes and please, with moans in between, sometimes, his name as well, which turns him on, his cock was absolutely aching for her touches, but he has to be patient somehow, there is no way he could hurt her if he didn’t prep her enough, he resumed his eating out activity by abusing her clit, circling on it, fingers inside deep inside her, moving in a vigorous movement, that earns more higher pitch whines and pants from her throat.

She was a literal hot mess for him to claim him, just for her. He couldn’t maintain further, he had to do something more that than. “May I?” he unbuckled his military white pants, right away, the monster dick full of veins and heat, sprung out from his black boxers.

There is no way this thing could fit inside, yet he knows. Does he even care if it would fit in? No? The look on her face was priceless, seeing his huge cock for the first time, which amused the general.

“Any questions, love?” he let out a few manly chuckles, not surprised how surprised she looked right now, giving his large dick a few pumps from his hands, pre cum still oozing out from the tip, dripping on the wooden board she was placed on.

“No way, no way that will fit in me,” she shook her head, still amazed at the size of his shaft.

“Oh, yes, yes it will, just relax, beautiful,” his words were comforting, as her back eased up on the wooden chessboard, listening to the general’s words like an obedient pet.

He played on her folds with his tip a few times, wanting her to beg for it, edging her wildest pleasure by placing his tip against the clit several times. But it was an unexpected swift move, as he obviously, entered her tight wall in one pace, stretching deep into her warm pussy. He felt proud as a loud moan was filled across the area, it would be enough for the cloud knights to know what they were up to. “God, you are so warm, love,” he did give her time to adjust to his gigantic size, which let out a grunt, kissing her lovingly, showering her face with kisses, by cupping her cheeks, giving her time as much as she needs, so she could be distracted from the sudden pain. “I-I” the female tried to catch some breath, “I think I’m ready,” she exhaled softly, wrapping her arms around his back, feeling every inch deepening into her warm cunt, his tip almost kissing her cervix a few times, he began to move slowly, but sensually, she could feel herself wrapped around his cock.

His thrusts were slow and romantic. “My queen, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he let out a few moans, kissing her lips again, praising how warm she was, pumping his dick into her tight walls, feeling every part of her cunt clenching on his wrapped up dick. He could cum in any second, but he has his own policy: she must cum and feel satisfied before him.

The gentleman, put his hands on the chessboard to adjust his position further, sweat dripping on her body and on the chessboard, the place smelt like a mix of their scents, sweat and sex, he growled as he could feel her cervix, he went over and over again to the sweet spot, kissing it with his tip, earning more moans from his queen.

She looked very beautiful at that moment, hair spreading across the board, under him, vulnerable from his unfaded desires of wanting to fuck her until her body squealed in pleasure, the place was filled with filthy noises from their sex, pressing on her cunt with sloppier noises, his base of his cock, slapping her skin with a different pace, he was going faster. “You can take my cock, pretty well right?” he asked more questions, wiping the sweat across her forehead, not stopping his fastening motions while she moaned more with immense lust. “Yes, general. I can take it in well for you,” her voice was getting hoarse, praising him like an Aeon she needed to worship and give her everything to him. He kissed her lips once again, his hands on her waist so he could get better access in slamming his cock again, this time, abusing her cervix. “I want to fill you up, queen,” he confessed his filthy sins in her ear, giving a playful bite at the end. This man knew how to come with his words, he wasn’t even pausing his merciless thrusts, making her stomach turn into butterflies and her guts tightening from every praise.

She gripped his back, fingers deep in his skin, Jing Yuan doesn’t mind the little pain, he received on his bare skin, it was too little to compare to how much ecstasy he has been having while fucking her raw, feeling every part of his desires fulfilled by his one and only. “Cum for me, queen. I want to make you feel good, I should be the only man you could please you well,” he was demanding, as his movements weren’t stoppable, the girl was getting more of his love, and he wanted to show her what she was missing out for years. “Ahh, Jing Yuan, I’m close,” she panted as her warm breath tickled on his neck, there he felt her hole orgasming, spasming on his cock, before he didn’t even come inside her. She doesn’t really care how her back was hurt from the hard board, she just wanted him at this very moment. “Good job,” he helped her catch her breaths, wiping the sweat, admiring how he made her feel good with his dick. “But I must first, do my part as well,” he continued rolling his hips, deepening inside her hole again, dick twitching and aching from cumming inside her. White liquids started to fill her post-orgasm insides, arriving after her pleasure, there was a burning sensation in her womb. He finally let out a few satisfied moans, saying her name like a prayer, as if she were the drug he took this morning. “You are so beautiful like this,” he bent over after he took out his cock, admiring the masterpiece of finishing her up. “I love you,” he kissed her forehead gently, whispering on the chessboard. “I love you too,” she replied lovingly, falling in love deeper into his golden eyes, putting his white strands away from his face, and pulling him in her embrace.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ “Master Jing Yuan, the board seemed to be so wet, did Y/N rage again and spill tea on it?” the innocent Yanqing happened to be the one playing after her, touched the board and the queen piece was still missing from the board on the general's side.

It made the general recall the memories she had with him together, making him giggle like a maiden falling in love. “Ask Y/N that for later,”

Yanqing just gave a weird look not sure what was going on but he knew after that chess play, the two friends both had become lovers instead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #jingyuan smut #jing yuan hsr #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x you #jingyuan #jingyuan x reader #jingyuan x you

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tonixe · 1 year ago

Text

goverment hooker..

a/n: I'm back again, there is no surprise. I'm feeling devious so I might post again, wowzers. Also, the sped-up version of the government hooker sound so fire, like it feels like I'm in one of those edits, anyways lemme stop rambling. I hope y'all enjoy, reblogs, and comments will be also appreciated.

warning: smut, penetrating, p in the v, unprotected sex, creampies. proofread (?)

pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader

word counter: 1.4k

What appeals to you to most men, maybe it was your cute antics, your siren eyes that attracted anyone toward you, or your body, sculpted with your delicate curves, and a perky bosom to match the appeal of your young face that can lull a man to sleep.

Or was it how you talked, deliberately making a slur of your words, with your ribboning voice, that can make anyone feel safe and warm with you. You fooled some powerful men, their hearts were already tainted and covered in greed, easy to control someone with their needs. You were in command of it, you made them your pawn, you played the cards, and made a charade of it.

Every time you talked or did anything, you automatically moved your chess piece forward never back. But..what were you doing in a low district as a 'prestigious' woman like yourself, doing in the slum like this. Well, these 'slums' they would call, these 'desperate streets' were your home, even though you won't admit with your own mouth, your words, it still was your home...

Trying to lift yourself from the slums called your homes, to a place where it is much safer than here, maybe to Capitol, but you would need a ticket in. They wouldn't allow just anyone, would they?

But here you were standing in a speakeasy, in a tight little red dress, with a lacey red lining. It was odd to see polished women like you in a bar in District 12, you looked like you were for the Capitol, but all things you see and hear aren't what it seemed. Drinking up on the cheap liquor they offered, looking at the scene in front of you with the happy and dancing couples on the floor, as live music played. The 'Covey' they called them, and the main star, Lucy Gray. Staring at the stage, as she sang into the mic, playing her guitar.

She was familiar to you, the only reference you saw was when she was fighting in the Hunger Games, it was a surprise seeing her still living, breathing, and standing up there, but needless to say, she was still good at what she did. You waving your body to the relaxing music, fixing yourself on the stool, swaying to the music. "What is a lady like you sitting in here" You turned your head to the gentleman talking to you, staring at him.

"I'm just sitting here, enjoying the show," You said, taking a sip of the alcoholic liquid, "How about you" you tilt your head to the side.

"Just enjoying my show" He gestured to your form, and you giggled at his compliment as he sat on the stool beside you. You really got to see the man that was next to you. He had a handsome face and a chiseled face, he wore a blue open-collar shirt and a blondish-white buzz cut, He seemed like one of those Peacekeepers lurking around the district. "Do you do this every girl you see?" You were amused by the blonde man who sat beside you. You wouldn't lie that he was indeed attractive in your eyes. Scanning his frame, his body, his face. "Not to every woman, but to the ones that look beautiful like you my dear" You couldn't help to smile at him, "━And your not bad-looking as well" You admitted, crossing your legs together. As you deliberately lean towards him, revealing a white lacey bra.

Pouting your lips together, "An attractive man indeed" giving him a sultry look, with your eyelids drooping down slightly. "So, what is your name, handsome" You took a sip from your drink, "Coriolanus.." He took your hand and kissed it, "Y/N" you smirked taking your hand gently away from him,

"Should we..take our business elsewhere for a private scene?" You whispered into his ear with a suggested look on your face.

Your hands were with his as you walked in the night street, your body already feeling hot. "Where are we going?" He was amused with your antics, as you batted your eyes at him, "A place, special" you gave him a smirk, your heels clicking down on the wet cement road. A neon sign coming into view, a little motel still opened near the bar. As you opened the door, walking down the lobby of the motel, the clerk managing the reception, "A room for one" The clerk nodded his head, and gave you the keys, "room 9" He said, as you walked away with his hand with yours. Your hips sway sensually, your heels stepping into the room and opening it.

Turning yourself on your heels, stepping closer to the man, "So..what are we going to do?" You pouted, your eyes dilating feeling the feeling of being aroused.

Feeling his hands on your lower bottom, as you hoof your legs around his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you both leaned into a kiss, feeling his hands groping your body. Feeling him moving, as he withdrew from you, your chest heaving. "You do know how to make a man crazy, don't you" He groaned, Feeling him putting your body onto the bed gently,

His body touching you recklessly, his hands going under your dress, slowly taking off your red lacey panties, discarding it on the floor. Biting your lip down in excitement, crossing your legs together covering yourself. Staring at him, taking off his pants and his boxers, feeling yourself getting aroused, as your cunt pulsed.

As his dick sunk into you, the pain writhing through your body, feeling the pain in your lower abdomen. Feeling your cheeks getting flushed, as you groaned in pain. His hips push into you, slowly before increasing his pace.

The bed rocked with your back on the bed, your skirt flipped and your legs being held up with his arms. Your sinful moans came out of your lips, his cock splitting your open, as you bit your lip down. His hands massaging your waist down, "F-fuck" stuttering out of your lips, your lipstick already messed up, smeared on your cheeks.

Your skin felt sticky, your lacey dress sticking onto your skin. "C-corio—" You were cut off from his hips smacking into your pelvis, your hands gripping on the sheet, holding down for support, leaning back in pleasure and relief, feeling a rush of pleasure.

Your slick lubricating his dick, makes him slip inside you easier. Your face burning up, fixing your legs on his around his waist. Your cunt clenching down around him making him groan in your ear. Feeling lips and your crashing into each other, into a hungry kiss. His tongue abused your mouth, making you moan against him, before you withdrew for air, your chest heaving, up and down.

Feeling his cock reaching to your cervix, "Hmm" You whined, your eyelids getting droopy in the process, feeling his slender fingers rubbing the nub of your clit, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, "Corio, I'm sensitive" You whined, his hips grinding onto yours, with his unrelenting pace, arching your back. His hands on your hips tilting up, plummeting into you.

"Don't be greedy, darling" He asserted, harshly rubbing on your clit, making you scream in bliss. His body leaning toward you, his dick still throbbing inside of you, making you go crazy. His mouth sucked onto your flesh, as the blooming mark left your neck.

Your body getting overstimulated, as your body trembled, skin prickling and your cunt dripping out.

Feeling a wave crashing down on you, clenching down around his cock. The pace of his hips getting slower, feeling his hands on your waist, gripping down making you wince. "I'm close" He groaned into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs, "Inside" you mewled, feeling his hips stuttering against yours. His dick pulsed inside of you, as he thrust into you one more last time, painting your walls white, as your cunt fluttered around him. Your body feeling tired.

Falling down on the bed. Feeling his warm essence leaking out of you, feeling himself still inside you. "Don't leave...please" You whimpered, feeling his soft lips on your lips, before he withdrew, looking at him, pursing your lips gently. His hands lift your chin up, "I have to.." He looked at your lips, scanning your face. Taking your appearance from your smeared lipstick to your ruined makeup, before he drew you into another kiss, a longer, more passionate one. For the first time feeling your heart swell with a man you slept with once at a bar, "Please.." you said, breathlessly.

"I'll be back" he gently traced the shape of your lips with his finger, his voice was tender to your ears, lulling you to an endless abyss. As drowsiness took over your body, your eyes shut and closed.

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #tbosbas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow x reader #president snow #coryo snow #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas movie #tbosas #tbosas x you #tbosas imagine #hunger games x reader

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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A Delicate Thing*

Summary: Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night. Mafia boss!harry x innocent!reader

A/n: this was a very specific request (no longer tagged bc they changed their username). Also, here is a link (NSFW) to some porn that was also suggested for a little inspiration. It's just for aesthetics, please imagine who you like as the mc.

7.6k words

Warning: Smut, innocent virgin having sex for the first time, mean Harry (he's not mean to y/n), mentions of mafia stuff (nothing too deep), a creepy father, some cliche themes (this is just for fun guys)

♤♤♤♤

After his father, Desmond, passed away, Harry took over the family business. He was a perfect fit for the job. As tough and ruthless as Harry could be, he was also a shrewd businessman and he knew how to run his organization and keep the men and women working for him happy so they were loyal. Harry was only cruel when it was necessary, and luckily, his father left him with a great crew of people to help him run the business and they already looked up to Harry and respected him. The men under him took his word as scripture. They knew not to fuck with Harry or the Styles’ name. Harry wouldn’t allow it because Desmond never did. Never mind that the Styles’ business was a known crime organization, no one could touch him. Law enforcement wouldn’t even take them down. The Styles clan was too big and too powerful.

So it was because of this that Y/n’s dad, William, wanted to get on Harry’s good side. Perhaps get a leg up in the organization. William had been working for the Styles’ since he was in his 20s, and now a man in his 40s, he wanted a bump up. More responsibility. More money. More power. His daughter, Y/n was young and pretty. He knew she was pretty because any time he brought her around the men would make comments and tell William he should be careful to let her out of his sight. So he had an idea when it came time for the annual Styles gala. The gala was a fundraiser of sorts. The townspeople always attended, as well as politicians, public figures, and all of the members of the organization were there. It was a big night, especially for Harry. It was the first year Desmond would not be in attendance. So, Harry would be the lead for everything and head the event and reception. Though he had people to do almost everything for him, he was the man of honor for the night, officially stepping up and taking over where his father left off.

William had Y/n get absolutely dolled up. He was bringing her to show her off to Harry at the event. Perhaps get Harry’s attention with his daughter. Y/n did not want to go. She was not excited about showing off her legs or her arms, smiling all night at creepy men, painting her lips red, keeping her hair just so, all so her father could flaunt her off. It felt gross. It felt shameful, but what could she do? Her father was not one to defy. So, she reluctantly allowed the beautician, esthetician, tailor, and stylist to do their thing. Her hair was perfectly done, left long and wavy, silky, and shiny. The esthetician gave her skin (face and body) a beautiful glow, soft, supple, and smooth. Her eyebrows were sculpted, and her hair was removed from her body (including her bikini region at her father’s request). Her makeup was done in soft shades that complimented her pretty face. Nails painted top to bottom. And finally, she was adorned in a dress that was fitted to her physique to show off her body.

The emerald satin of the dress accentuated her skin and eyes and even she couldn’t deny how alluring she appeared in the mirror as she stared at herself. But it didn’t make her feel good. Yes, it was pretty, she looked pretty. But the entire scheme was disgusting. Her father was a disgusting man for doing what he was doing. With his own daughter of all people. It felt wrong. She felt like a pawn in her father’s game.

She was a pawn in her father’s game.

The venue was full of wealthy guests, townspeople, politicians, and servers. Harry was one of the first to arrive to make sure everything was going to plan. He was excited about the night, it would be the first in his honor. He wanted to make a good impression but he was also there because he needed to meet with a handful of his closest men. On his left arm was Darcie, the beautiful brunette whom he’d been fucking for the last week. She was fun and easy. And she looked good in her little black dress for the event. Harry wasn’t worried much about her. He’d have her sit by the bar and have a couple of drinks while he and his men discussed work.

William was amongst the men at the meeting with Harry. He left Y/n at the bar as well and told her she could have a glass of wine but no more. Darcie immediately noticed the young woman in emerald. Competition perhaps.

Y/n felt awkward and uncomfortable. Her dress was a bit too fitted in certain spots and her thigh was displayed. Sitting on the little stool at the bar and sipping a glass of wine she watched as the guests arrived. Most were sitting at tables and being served, some were standing and chatting with people they knew. Music began to play and suddenly William was by her side, “Let’s go. I want you to meet Harry.”

This was what she was told would happen before coming. She knew she was here to meet someone named Harry. Her dad’s boss. She wasn’t keen on it. Not at all. Her glass of wine was left at the bar as she followed William to a table where six men and three women were sat. William pulled at Y/n, pushing her in front of him, “Harry, this is Y/n. My lovely, lovely daughter. I’ve been looking forward to you meeting her.”

Y/n smiled at everyone at the table, most didn’t look up at her but she did recognize the woman in the black dress with brown hair, long down her back. She was also at the bar with her when her dad had left her for the brief meeting. She made eye contact with the woman but didn’t receive a smile in return. Rather it was a cold gaze and then the woman turned her head toward the man she was sitting next to, the one William was trying to introduce her to called Harry.

“Thank you, William. You can have your seat.” Harry stated, never looking in Y/n’s direction. Harry had seen it all. He was sure William’s daughter would not be of interest. Harry didn’t need a young, insecure daughter of one of his men as part of his posse. He had what he wanted. When he wanted. Darcie was fine for him at the moment. She was a sure thing at the end of the night. It was boring, actually. To have William trying to flaunt his daughter was annoying more than anything.

“Harry, Y/n here would like to shake your hand at least. She’s a big fan of yours. Could you at least do her that favor?” William was desperate. He knew that if Harry just looked at Y/n there could be a chance of having him see her beauty and maybe there’d be favor gained.

Harry sighed and placed his glass of whiskey down on the table to appease William. His goal was to get William to go away with his daughter. He didn’t care in the least. He drew his gaze up over the young woman and she was almost shivering. Her eyes were downcast toward the floor, and her bottom lip bit into her mouth. She was nervous, Harry could see. It was obvious that William’s daughter was put up to this, and she was not here because she was a fan as William stated. There was something else at play and Harry didn’t like the looks of it.

The girl was stunning. Shy, insecure, and shaking. Harry frowned and looked at William and then back to the poor thing who was uncomfortable with the situation and he was filled with a touch of anger at the way William had paraded his daughter to him in this way.

Y/n knew Harry was a big boss of a crime organization and not one to be interrupted or annoyed. She felt as if she and her father were doing just that. That this was going to be her end and that Harry would have them done away with.

“William. Thank you. Y/n, come sit with me, here,” Harry snapped his fingers at the server who was standing at the table and motioned for them to bring a chair to his side, opposite where Darcie was seated. When the chair was placed on Harry’s left side, William nudged Y/n to sit.

She looked at her dad with worry, “Go on, darling. This is our chance,” he whispered to her.

Harry kept his eyes on William, “I said thank you, William. Take your seat at your table. Your daughter will sit here at the table with me.”

Y/n sat down as she was directed and kept her face downward. She didn’t know what to expect. Her heart was pounding. She’d never seen Harry in person, but he was very intimidating and his green eyes were striking. He was an eye-catching man. But she was still unsure of what to expect. His power and his ruthlessness proceeded him. She’d heard of the things he’d done to men before. Harry was not a nice man and now here she was sitting at his side amongst other men and women who were also not nice.

Darcie, who was sitting on Harry’s right side leaned in toward Harry and spoke loudly enough that Y/n could hear, “Poor girl. Wearing a cheap dress like that probably feels quite out of place here with us,“ her laugh indicated she wasn’t being nice in her words. Darcie knew the sudden arrival of the young woman was a threat to her place.

Harry ignored Darcie completely and looked over Y/n’s frame as she kept her eyes down. He was intrigued. The girl seemed scared but she was the daughter of one of his top men. A man that was looking for a promotion in the organization. The more Harry considered William, the more he wondered if the fact that he brought his daughter here was just a way to get Harry’s attention for a raise or a leg up. Harry didn’t like this. He didn’t like to use people as pawns and for William to use his own daughter in this way felt disgusting.

But it wasn’t Y/n’s fault. He could see that right away. No, Y/n was innocent. Pure. A sweet thing who was not here because she wanted to be. She was here because her father’s intentions were unkind and rather insulting. What did William think this was? A way to gain some kind of favor? Harry would do what he wanted and if William deserved favor he’d have it but not this way.

“Darling, is this normal? For your father to bring you to places and show you off in this way?” Harry was curious about how William had been treating this beautiful creature sat next to him. He moved the hair from her face gently so he could get a better look at the delicate thing.

When she finally turned her head to look into Harry’s eyes there was no turning back for Harry. She was far more beautiful than he even realized. The moment her eyes met his he felt his heart thud and his throat nearly went dry. Her pink lips and her delicate features, the sparkle of her eyes, and her slender neck were like something he’d dreamed up. He was unable to help himself as he moved his eyes down over her dress and to the curve of her waist and the spread of her thighs under her satin emerald dress. An angel was before him.

Y/n opened her mouth and tried to reign in her breaths. She was scared. “No. I mean… sometimes he brings me around, uh…” she wrung her hands in her lap and looked back down to calm herself. His eyes were searing into her and it was distracting. The way he was looking at her had her ears going hot and her senses blurred.

Harry turned to face the girl and placed his hand on her jaw and turned her face back toward his, “Sweetheart. You don’t need to be scared around me. I’m not going hurt you,” he spoke and brought his other hand up to her shoulder, bringing his fingers down her arm softly to soothe her, “Now, go on. Tell me what you were going to say.”

Goosebumps were left in the path of Harry’s fingers down her arm and she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. The warmth of his touch sent her heart racing. She opened her eyes again and tried to speak clearly, “He brings me around some of the men in your organization. He tells me it’s so I can learn to be good for powerful men.”

Harry scoffed and tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes on the angel, “No baby. That’s not okay. You know that right?”

Suddenly Darcie leaned in and stretched her hand out toward Harry, wrapping her long fingers around his forearm to get his attention, “Do you think that’s really true, Harry? She’s obviously just trying to make you feel bad for her…”

Harry’s face turned into a scowl as he turned himself and yanked his arm from Darcie’s grasp, “You’re dismissed. You can go find another table to sit at. I no longer am in need of your services,” Harry turned back to Y/n, and his eyes immediately softened at the girl.

“My services!? What? You’ve been fucking me all week and that’s what you call a service? This stupid virgin isn’t going to be giving you head like I did just this morning. That I can guarantee. Good luck with the lying bimbo!” Darcie stood up but before she could walk away Harry stood and grabbed her upper arm in a tight grip, “The fuck did you call her?” He pointed at Y/n as he snarled at Darcie.

Darcie’s eyes went wide when she realized how angry Harry was, “Apologize to her now!”

Darcie shook her head, “Harry, I’m sorry…”

Harry slammed a fist onto the table, the dishes clanking and his glass of whisky sloshing, and now the whole room was watching the outburst, “Not to me you stupid whore. To her!” He again pointed in Y/n’s direction.

Darcie blinked her eyes as tears began to form on her lower lashes. She looked from Harry down to Y/n and sputtered out her words, “I’m sorry.”

Before Harry released Darcie’s arm he leaned into her and spoke calmly and darkly, “Now get the fuck out of here before I have my men remove you. You are no longer allowed to be here.”

Harry wiped his hands down his suit as if he was brushing dust off of himself before sitting back down. He pulled Y/n’s chair closer toward him and leaned into her, “Sorry about that, baby. Are you okay?” He moved her hair from her shoulder and drew a hand up toward the side of her neck tenderly.

Y/n nodded quickly. She was still nervous. She’d been a little surprised by the way Harry treated his date but she’d seen worse with some of the other men before. She was glad he made Darcie apologize.

“Good,” Harry kept his eyes on Y/n’s as he snapped his fingers again and the server was quickly by his side.

Harry spoke softly, “What would you like to drink, darling? A beautiful thing like you deserves the finest things. Champagne maybe? Top shelf?”

Y/n opened her mouth and raised her brows in worry, “My dad told me not to drink too much…”

Harry tsk’d at her and smiled, “You don’t need to worry about William anymore. I’m going to be the one to take care of you from now on. And if you’d like the finest champagne you’ll have it.”

Y/n nodded, “Okay,” her voice was quiet and fragile.

Harry ordered a bottle of champagne to be brought to the table and fresh strawberries to go with it.

Harry doted on Y/n during the dinner and the speeches that were made during the event. Never taking his eyes off her, his fingers gently dancing on her skin. He knew it was probably a bit too much but he couldn’t stop himself from touching her and looking her over. She was going to be his.

When dinner and the main event were done it was time for the reception and party. Harry moved Y/n and some of his crew toward where there’d be entertainment and music for the rest of the night. He sat along the wall where there was a plush couch and some tables. Y/n was about to sit down when Harry took her wrist and pulled her into his lap. He needed her to be as close as possible.

When her soft bottom met the top of his thighs he angled her so he could still see her face and he brushed his hand along her bare back, where her dress was low and he could feel her soft skin under his fingers.

More drinks were served and chatter was all around them but Y/n was feeling something deep in her stomach with the close proximity to Harry. He’d been so soft and kind with her and the attention he was giving her, the words he’d whisper were all so much. She’d never experienced it before but she wanted more.

Harry put one hand on her bare thigh, gently moving his thumb over her skin, “Shit, you’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, his lips brushing her ear, “Do you know that, Y/n? You’re so fucking stunning, baby. Want you to be all mine. Okay?” His warm breath and the accent of his words with his deep voice were overwhelming Y/n’s senses. She wanted that. She’d just met him but she wanted him. She wanted to be his.

She licked her lips and turned to look at Harry, “Okay,” she whispered and nodded.

Harry grinned at her and the hand on her thigh slid higher up, the pads of his fingers finding the material of her dress and dipping just under it, “Yeah? You want that? Fuck, baby. I’m going to take good care of you, okay?”

Harry pulled her to him, his hand at the back of her neck and his mouth finding hers. She tasted like honey and berries and champagne. The softest and sweetest and most delicate thing he’d seen and felt in all his life.

Before the kiss could get too hot Harry broke away from it and it left Y/n breathless, her lips parted and eyelids low. Now she knew what she wanted without a doubt. She wanted to please him and to have him please her. His mouth on her ignited her insides and she felt her nipples perk under her dress.

Harry noticed it too. He realized the state he’d left her in so he moved a hand further up her dress discreetly and whispered, “I know baby. I’m going to take you home when we’re done here and give you everything you want. Anything you want,” he pressed his fingers upward until he met her bare pussy. She was not wearing panties and Harry nearly lost his mind when he felt the slickness between her legs. Harry immediately thickened in his pants. This girl was going to be treated so well and he was going to take care of his angel properly.

The rest of the night was difficult for both Harry and Y/n. Harry couldn’t stop kissing her and touching her and Y/n was slowly wetting her satin dress where she was seated. Harry was treating her so sweetly and saying just the right things to her. And when Harry pulled her hand down over his trousers so she could feel him hard underneath and it startled her.

Now, Y/n had masturbated before and she could make herself orgasm by softly rubbing herself on her pillows her using her fingers but she was a virgin and she was not experienced otherwise so she’d never touched a penis before. She’d seen pictures but had never been in the presence of a real-live penis. But here she was, on the lap of a man who was so aroused by her that his own prick was thickened and she knew that this meant he wanted her in the same way she wanted him.

When William eventually approached them he had a creepy smile on his face and he was clearly drunk. Y/n wrapped her arms around Harry and shrunk in his lap, not wanting her father to see her like this. She really didn’t want to see William at all for any reason. In fact, she’d nearly forgotten all about him with the way Harry had made her feel safe and wanted on his lap and with all the attention he was giving her.

Harry noticed Y/n’s sudden change of demeanor and held her close to give her comfort and turned to Randy as he pointed at William, “Get him out of here.”

And that was that. Harry and Y/n didn’t have to see William again that night. Harry would take care of William another day. At that moment, he could only think of how he was going to take care of his girl.

Harry had his driver take them to his estate when he felt it was a good time to slip out without being noticed. Most everyone at the event was occupied, dancing, talking, and drinking so no one cared much when Harry whisked Y/n away with him and out the back to the car waiting for them.

When they pulled into the long driveway past the iron gates to Harry’s mansion it was a shock. It was the biggest house she’d ever seen. Her eyes were wide as Harry helped her out of the car and put his arm behind her back and walked her to the door and inside. A man greeted them at the door and the inside was just as ornate and fancy as the outside.

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from swiveling her head around to look at all the beautiful finishes and decorations. The tall windows, twenty-foot ceilings, marble floors, stair banister, walnut inlays, chandelier, art, expensive looking vases, and bowls and rugs, the walls were covered in silk wallpaper with subtle designs…

“It’s a lot. I know. This was my father’s home. His tastes were a bit extravagant, but it grows on you. It’s the finest decorations and furniture from all over the world. Just wait til you see the rest of the place, darling,” Harry smiled at Y/n as he watched her take it all in.

“It’s so beautiful, Harry,” Y/n brushed her hand along the edge of the velvet high-back chair that was near the staircase where Harry was leading her.

Harry kept his eyes on the beautiful girl and nodded in awe of her, “It is so beautiful.”

The bedroom was large with high ceilings and tall windows and the biggest bed Y/n had ever seen. She heard the heavy walnut door being closed behind her when Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her front, pressing her back into his chest.

He began to kiss her neck softly and she started to melt once again in Harry’s arms. His broad chest was solid and she felt safe in his arms. When he moved his hands down to her hips she felt the warmth of his palm even through her satin dress. But she also felt his solid length poking into her bottom and she was reminded of her own situation between her legs.

“Can I take off your dress, baby? Will you let me see you?” Harry whispered into her ear as his hands slowly smoothed up her sides over her dress. He knew she’d look like perfection. He could already tell. Her thigh had been on display and her dress was scooped low down her back where the front draped perfectly over her breasts and hugged her waist and hips.

Y/n nodded. She wanted relief. She was feeling the ache and the neediness that had begun at the reception earlier when he sat her in his lap. Her nerves were peaking but she was excited about it.

Harry removed his suit jacket and draped it over a chair and then turned to face Y/n and very slowly began to remove her dress, bringing the thin straps off of her shoulders and pushing the material down, exposing her breasts to him where he paused and placed a soft kiss to each of her nipples and she softly moaned at the touch.

Then he dragged the dress the rest of the way down her body and lifted her legs, one at a time to help her step out, leaving her in only her high heels and Harry thought he was going to faint. She was smooth, soft, and untouched by any imperfections on her skin.

He knelt down and put his hands up to her hips and placed his warm mouth on her tummy, kissing and squeezing her until he dropped his mouth to right over her sweet, pussy. She was already wet and he could see her juice peeking out from her labia, the shine and the smell made him twitch in his pants. He brought his lips down, going around her pussy, over her thighs, and to her knees, on each side, and then back up.

He looked up at her and she’d put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself when he pushed his tongue out and licked the very center of her wet slit with only the tip of his tongue.

“Is this okay, Y/n? Do you want me to make you feel so good?” He spoke over her pussy, his warm breath cascading down her folds and she gasped at the feel and nodded, “Yes, please.”

Harry stood up and moved her toward the bed and had her lie flat on her back in the very center, legs spread wide at his urging. He held her thighs apart and looked her over, taking all of her intimate bits in. Everything was perfection and she was his. He could hardly believe it.

Harry was gentle at first, kisses and licks and soft laps at her pussy. She didn’t know what to do with herself it felt so good. Better than her fingers for sure. But when he realized her clit was standing at full attention and she was puffy and whiny he knew she was ready for more. She was fully aroused.

So he put his mouth around her clit and softly brought it into his mouth, sucking the tiniest bit and watching her to get her reaction and he was not disappointed. The shock on her face turned into ecstasy and her pink lips parted as she moaned and cried. Harry smiled and repeated his actions, holding a thigh down for his access to his center.

Soon, as Harry was licking her and lapping her and sucking her just right, he circled two fingers over her tiny entrance and dipped just the tip of his fingers in to get a feel. Her muscle was tight but she was very wet and so he eased his two fingers into the first knuckle slowly. She gasped and tilted her head up to see what he was doing.

Harry’s intense gaze was on hers the whole time. She saw his pink tongue lapping at her slit and circling her clit and he had a hand at her entrance, prodding, and poking softly to open her up.

Harry lifted his face, “I’m gonna finger you darling. Just to get you used to the feel of this. Have you ever put your fingers into this little hole right here?” He wiggled the tips of his fingers inside of her as he asked.

She let out a soft breath and shook her head, “No.”

Harry smiled. He figured she hadn’t. So he went slow and watched her expressions change and the way her mouth got wider and wider and her moans got deeper and louder the further he pushed his fingers into her. She was so wet she was getting the comforter under her bum slick, just like Harry liked.

By the time Harry had his fingers pushed in all the way to his last knuckle, and his rings were disappearing into her hole she started fucking herself down onto his fingers by herself. She had the natural instinct to sink down on something inside of her and Harry gave her a good slurp on her clit and inserted another finger and she came with a yelp and a gush on his tongue. Her body shook when she felt her orgasm burst and it was better than any orgasm she’d ever given herself. His fingers had been poking and pushing into something delicate and sensitive inside of her that she’d never experienced before and it made her whole body shiver.

Harry let her come down and he gave her plenty of time to recover from her shock as he laid next to her and kissed her neck and her cheek and whispered to her how good she’d done.

“Such a good girl, Y/n. My sweet baby. I’ve never seen anyone come so pretty before. Taste so good too. I’m going to have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day from now on, okay?’

Y/n smiled and nodded as she lulled her head over to look at Harry. His eyes were dark with lust and she knew she wanted to please him too. So she turned to face him and moved her hand down to his crotch, where he was solid and harder than ever.

Harry groaned at her touch and he grinned, “Want to see it?”

And of course, she did. She nodded and sat up as Harry began to remove his clothes. When he had pulled his underwear down his legs and crawled back into the bed with her she was speechless. She put her hand out toward his long cock and touched the very tip and sucked in a sharp breath at how warm he was.

She looked up at Harry with wide, round eyes, “It’s so big.” She knew that a penis was meant to go inside of a vagina and that she had a hole where Harry had his fingers, but she couldn’t imagine it fitting into her.

Harry grabbed her hand and pressed her palm down on him harder, “It’s all yours. Do you want to taste?”

Again, she nodded. She was curious about it. Harry pulled her toward him and she got onto her knees on the mattress next to him and dipped down to kiss the very tip. Her lips found his slit and Harry hissed and smiled at her, “Good girl.”

She knew that was a good sign so she kept going. Kissing the shaft and looking up at him when she poked her tongue out to lick the edge and taste him. It wasn’t bad. It didn’t taste like much really. Just warm skin on her tongue. She began to get the hang of it, licking and kissing along his thick shaft toward his base and then back up.

“Put the tip inside your mouth and suck,” Harry said as he nodded at her.

She eagerly lowered herself and opened her wet mouth, placing it over his crown and using the flat of her tongue to get him wetted and swipe around the head, perfectly caressing his frenulum and he moaned and put a hand into her hair, “Just like that baby.”

She continued doing what she thought he liked, keeping her eyes on his. She lowered a bit more and sucked hard at his urging and he threw his head back with a growl and he smiled at her eagerness and her soft lips.

“Spit over it and use your hands to get my cock all wet,” Harry nudged her.

So she did what he said, spitting on him and using her hands to smooth the saliva over him and down his shaft. She spit a few times to get him all slick in her hand and then continued to suck and swirl her tongue on the tip of his prick.

Harry was in heaven. But he wanted to feel his girl. He wanted to know what her pussy would feel like on him and he hoped she wanted that too.

He pushed her off of him softly and he looked at her in amazement, “Can we try something else, my angel?”

Y/n was in for anything at this point as she nodded.

Harry made her lay flat on her back as he knelt between her legs and held his heavy cock in his hands and swiped his tip through her drenched slit and it was a beautiful site.

“My penis will fit inside of this hole here,” he said as he plunged his middle finger into her entrance and then he pulled it out and licked his finger. Y/n bit her lip and she had a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Harry asked as he thumbed over her clit to get her all worked up again. She started to wiggle a bit and roll her hips upward toward his finger for relief.

“I think it’s too big, Harry.” She said with a straight face.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “No, baby, it’s not. Your hole will stretch and open up when I press this in. This is where babies come from, you know that right?”

She nodded and blinked. That made sense.

“And if a baby can come through this hole, my penis is sure to fit. And it’s going to feel so good. You’re gonna love it. You know how good it felt when I had my fingers inside of you?”

Harry slide a finger inside of her again and curled it up for her to feel the pressure and she nodded with a gasp.

“Exactly. It’ll feel even better with this in there,” he said when he began to swipe his cock up and down her labia again and softly nudged at her entrance with his head. If she were anyone else he’d already be fucking her and making her toes curl. But this was his Y/n. She was delicate and too sweet. He wanted her to feel comfortable and safe with him. He’d make her feel like a queen if she let him.

She nodded and she knew he was right. He’d only been gentle and caring with her this whole time. She trusted him, “Okay.”

Harry kept a thumb at her clit as he angled her hips for him to more easily push in. He stayed sat back, his knees bent with legs under him as she laid flat, her thighs spread and open for him.

She closed her eyes when she felt his crown begin to poke into her. His thumb felt nice on her clitoris and it helped her feel grounded.

“Look at me, Y/n. Watch my face, honey…” he squeezed her hip to get her attention and she opened her eyes up right away. Looking at him as he slowly pushed past her tight muscle and continued to circle her clit with his thumb.

She could see how good it felt for him as he got deeper inside of her, his mouth parted, his brows scrunched. But to her, it didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would. She was old enough that her hymen was probably broken by now and even though she’d never even put a tampon inside of her, she’d ridden horses and bikes and was aware that activities like that, along with just naturally moving day to day over the years that it would mean her vagina would be rid of its hymen lining.

Harry went very slowly. He could feel how tight she was but her arousal was drenching him and making it hard not to just pound into her right away. He knew she could take it. Her body was ready. But he didn’t want to startle her or scare her. So he only pushed in as slowly as possible and kept watch of her face.

He pulled himself out to almost the tip and then nudged his thick cock back inside a little deeper this time and she moaned. Harry smiled. She liked it. It felt good.

He repeated his actions a few times, getting a little deeper on each thrust, but still going as slow as possible until she was panting and her eyes were wide.

“How does that feel angel?” Harry breathed his words out.

She lifted her neck and looked down to where he was fucking into her and she nodded before putting her head back down, “So good. It feels really good.”

This was Harry’s cue to begin fucking her properly. Not hard, or fast, but now he could begin thrusting into her at a pace that might get her off. He began to pull back and push in, watching her pussy spread for him and her lips surround his cock with each pull and push. It was wet and the sound was delicious, “Hear that?” Harry said as he slowly pushed in and pulled out, the wet noise of his cock thrusting into her entrance and pulling back was not something she expected. But she could hear the wet noises coming from between their bodies.

She nodded, “Yeah. Is that because I’m so wet for you?”

Harry groaned and smiled, her words were dirty and she didn’t even know it, “That’s exactly what that is my angel. Your little pussy is soaked because she’s so aroused and that makes it easy for my cock to slip right in and out the way you need. Like this…” he demonstrated by pushed into the hilt, and then backing out until he could see his tip before pushing back in, the sticky sound of their bodies coming together.

His cadence increased a small bit and it made her body move on each press inward, her tits softly bouncing at each plunge of his cock. The wet sounds were now met with the sound of Harry’s skin meeting her skin, the soft smacking of their bodies colliding, and the rustle of the blankets below them.

Y/n’s moans began to get louder again like they had when he ate her out and fucked her with his fingers. She felt good and that’s all he wanted. To make her feel good and safe.

“Oh god…” her eyes widened and her pink lips puffed out a heavy breath, “that’s good… so full…” her panted words were music to Harry’s ears. She was feeling what he was feeling and she was saying what she wanted as her brain and body were naturally responding to sex the way it should when it felt good.

“Yeah, baby? Am I stuffing you full? Feels so good doesn’t it?” Harry continued his languid strokes into her, smacking into her gently, continuing to rub her clit softly.

“Yes. Yes… oh yes…” she breathed out in gasps, “So full, so good… mmmm….” She brought her hands down to grasp his thighs where he was working himself into her. She felt his strong muscles under her hands, flexing as he rolled into her.

“You’re made for me, angel. You know that? Gonna make you mine in every way…” he moaned as he rocked into her, imagining her dripping with his come and then becoming pregnant and swollen with his baby.

Y/n nodded and bit her lip as she bucked upward into his thumb and whimpered when Harry couldn’t help himself and he plunged into her a little harder, a little faster.

Now he was smacking into her harder, sending her body upward with each deep stroke. It felt good inside of her. His prick was filling her and rubbing into something inside that felt like rainbows and stars and all things good and right. She couldn’t stop her moans or the noises she was making. Harry was making her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life.

“That’s it, angel… just feel it. Let it take over,” Harry watched her body and her face as he fucked into her a little harder now. He couldn’t help himself but to go in deeper and harder. She was feeling so good around him and she liked it so he knew he could poke deep into her and she’d like it.

Harry continued rubbing over her button and looked down to where they were connected, his cock was wet with her creamy arousal. She’d gotten his groin soaked, down her ass and to the bed below. Harry groaned at the site of his cock moving into her and spreading her apart. He knew his cock was pushing her insides apart, pressing deep into her belly and rubbing over her g-spot on each stroke. Her eyes were almost crossed as her mouth was dropped open with constant mewls and moans falling from her mouth.

“So pretty… look at you, shit…” Harry was losing it. She was clenching and pulsing around him as her legs started to shake slightly.

Harry went in hard now, he couldn’t help it. Now he was acting on primal tendencies to push her over the edge so she could come and so he could come. He wanted to destroy her insides (in the kindest way of course) with his big cock. She was taking him so well and he knew she was so close to coming.

Y/n’s breasts shook and bounced, the sound of the thuds of skin and wetness together with her loud moans could be heard down the hallway of his mansion. He knew his house staff was hearing this but he didn’t care at that moment. He only cared about making Y/n come.

When she clenched hard and he felt her pussy spasm and she cried out his name, “Oh god! Harry! I’m… oh… oh… I’m…” her words were nonsense suddenly as she melted on his cock and spasmed around him, her legs shaking and her world spinning. She grabbed her tits and squeezed for something to hold on to as she gushed over Harry’s cock and he continued fucking into her, giving her the best experience she could have; a nice thick cock pushing into and pulling out of her fluttering walls as she came, her muscles clamping down on him with all she had.

Harry gritted his teeth as he watched his angel coming on his cock as he sunk into her deeply and finally released in his own orgasm, his cum coating her walls and her slick muscles inside as she quivered and cried. His throbbing cock pumped into her, stuffed as far as it could go inside as he groaned and pushed upward, connecting them so fully and deeply that he knew she’d never want anyone else. He’d make sure of that.

When his balls were emptied and everything was poured into her cunt and her breathing began to slow Harry kissed her lips softly and slowly before pulling out of her.

He held her thighs apart and watched as his come dripped from her pussy down over her ass. He scooped up a bit of his liquid and brought it back up to her pussy, rubbing it over her labia and then pushing it back in slowly.

Harry couldn’t get enough of the view. It was so pretty and soft and lewd. Their juices mixed together over her pussy and now inside of her pussy…

“How do you feel?” Harry looked up at Y/n and she was smiling, red in the cheeks, her chest flushed, hair messy, “Happy.”

This made Harry smile. He wanted her happy and feeling good. He smoothed his hands up her hips over her tummy, wrapping them around to her back, and pulled her up and into his arms, “Good. I’m going to make sure you stay that way. Always want you to be happy with me,” he kissed her temple and smiled.

“My good girl.”

The Check-in*

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @theroosterswife24 @0oolookitsme @anothermannharry

#harry styles smut #mafia!harry #mafia boss!harry #innocent!reader #virgin!reader #harry x y/n #harry styles #harry styles one shot #firstpost

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attackurheart88 · 1 year ago

Note

How would Hisoka, Chrollo, Kurapika and Killua react to a dominant and possessive reader? They would like to? and I mean in every way lol, everyday life and nsfw

Killua is a minor aged up or not so I’ll be skipping his nsfw. Thanks for your understanding.

——————

Hisoka

• He likes it

• Hisoka will often flirt with others just to rile you up

• Seeing how angry you get when other women or even men touch him

• turns him on (everything does)

• Hisoka is used to taking that role in any relationship, so to find someone like himself attracts him

• The two of you would be that lovey-dovey couple that everyone envies.

• You match each other's energies

• Each of you wants to control and dominate the other

• He thinks of your possessive side to be really sexy.

• And often pushes to see how you’ll punish him later

• Which comes in the form of whips, knives, and wax play.

• Hisoka is tied to the bed while he endures every scar and wound you leave on his body

• It's only after a few hours of pain and orgasm denial that Hisoka is forgiven until next week

Chrollo

• Doesnt mind it

• You’re devotion to him will serve as a pawn to play

• He knows he can trust you with anything without you ever turning against him

• Sometimes you scare him

• If push comes to shove and he wants to break it off he fears for his life.

• Secretly Chrollo likes how dominant you are

• It can be exhausting to constantly being the one to make decisions and put on a brave face

• Having you take that role sometimes gives him a sense of comfort

• In the bedroom the two of you switch back and forth over who will be in control

• One second you're on top the next you're on your knees as he takes you from behind

• The look on your face in tears begging and pleading for more underneath him is a huge ego boost

• Knowing you behave the opposite of a submissive person

• Chrollo will relish any situation where he has power over you

Kurapika

• Doesnt like it

• Kurspika is extremely independent and often takes the leadership role in any situation

• Having a partner who obsesses over him will make him feel uncomfortable at first

• Your dominance might even scare him

• Once he gets used to your behavior he slowly allows himself to enjoy it

• Part of him believes he doesn't deserve to have someone who cares about him so much

• He should be alone and focus on this goal of killing the Phantom Troupe. It would be the safest option for you and anyone he cares about

• But after your insistence on not leaving him alone and finding ways to follow him and assist him in some way

• Kurapika has no choice but to let you in

• Kurapika wouldn't admit it but coming home to you pushing him in the bed and having your way with him is the highlight of his day

• After a long day of work and stress Kurapika doesn't want to think

• Having you take the reins and tell him what to do feels so right

• He likes it when you tease him

• Him tied to the bed as you fuck him hard and play with his nipples

• It's perfect

Killua

• He feels on edge at first

• Killua feels like you remind him of his brother

• Trying to be in control and limit him all while saying you care

• He would argue with you constantly

• He isn't a fan of being told what to do or being the “submissive” one in a relationship

• You taking charge of initiating PDA or any romantic gestures makes him get shy and embarrassed

• He would always find a way to return the favor and get even

• Killua can be really petty

• If you tell him to do one thing he will go out of his way to do the opposite just to feel like he has some control

• When it's late or Killua is in a good mood he puts up less of a fight

• He’ll let you be the big spoon

• Or drag him around letting you take charge

• It's times like that Killua really feels like a child and enjoys the feeling of being taken cared of

#hxh x reader #killua zoldyck #kurapika x reader #chrollo x reader #adult trio x reader #gender neutral y/n #hxh scenarios #killua x reader #hisoka x reader #kurapika #scenario

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vivalarevolution · 7 months ago

Text

𝓐 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓷

Feyd Rautha x Reader

Request: „Feyd with Reader from a lower house. Readers family has been making good moves to gain the barons favor and they have resources the Baron can't turn down. He offers Feyd in a marriage alliance, much to his nephews suprise.‟

A/N: I apologize in advance for such a delay but I was out of town , unable to write. Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

She was a pawn. From the moment she left her mother's womb she became a pawn. The galaxy forced this role on her without her knowledge or consent. And she could only watch helplessly.

When Baron Vladimir Harkonnen proposed an arranged marriage between her and his youngest nephew her role was reminded once again. And just as before, she could only watch helplessly as her father agreed , without even looking at her.

Because he was driven by greed , greed for which he had to pay the price. A price in the form of his eldest daughter.

And when she found herself in front of her betrothed something crawled to the surface , something erotic. From the moment their eyes met , there was a lustful tension that grew and grew.

Feyd had never met someone like her. He was used to women who were pale , hairless, slender and almost melancholic. She was different. Her head was adorned with soft hair ,cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her face was decorated with rosy cheeks and full, kissable lips. Her body was curvy, shaped almost like the goddesses from the ancient books of Old Terra. Her eyes hid the passionate desire that he wanted to feel in every way imaginable.

And when he found her alone, wandering through the dark corridors of the keep , he decided to capture her.

-Are you following me , my lord na-Baron? - she asked , with a shadow of curiosity in her voice , looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

-You are walking around my fortress. I want to make sure you don't do something you shouldn't - he replied, approaching her, slowly, like a predator to its prey.

-That doesn't change the fact that you're following me - she whispered, turning her head so that she could get a full look at the man's face, his sharp jawline, full lips and cold eyes that made him even more handsome and dangerous.

-And what if you were right ,what if I did ? - he purred, coming closer and closer, so close that their breaths mingled with each other.

-Then I would wonder what have I done to caught the attention of Feyd Rautha himself - she replied , brushing her lips against his with every word she spoke.

-You are to be my wife - he said , placing his hands on her hips, moving them unnoticeably higher ,towards her waist -Isn't that reason enough?

-I do not entirely believe that this is the real reason my lord na-Baron -she proclaimed , covering his hand with hers , stopping his movements.

-What do you think the real reason is? - he asked, touching her cheek, moving his thumb lazily over her skin, making her shiver because of his cold , silver ring.

-You desire me as much as I desire you my lord na-Baron - she whispered into his mouth , looking deeply into his blue eyes , which were burning with want.

Feyd pushed her roughly against a nearby wall , hanging over her smaller body. His hands captured her loins , drawing her closer to him.

-You're walking on a very thin line - he growled , sliding his lips along her neck.

His tongue tasted her flesh , while his teeth bit the soft skin of her throat.

-Forgive me - she breathed out, placing her palms on his muscular torso -Forgive me because I said words that I shouldn't have.

-What do you mean? - he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye, his nose gliding over the pulse on her neck.

-I feel a need that I have never been able to feel…And I can't control it - she confessed, looking at him from under her long lashes.

-You don't have to - he stated , whispering directly into her ear.

-I have to…because this need…I want my husband to feel it, my lover - she replied, escaping from his embrace.

However, the Baron's nephew did not let her go , even for a single step, before she again found herself in his arms.

-You think I will let you run away? - he asked, pressing her body against his -That I will let you awaken in me a desire I have never felt before and watch helplessly as you leave me…I will not let you.

The woman turned her head in his direction.

-I thought you prefer a challenging chase , easy prey is not of value to you - she admitted , running her gaze towards the dark corridor , the end of which could not be seen - Besides…the walls here seem to have eyes and ears my lord na-Baron , and this could ruin your hunt - she whispered , feeling how besides Feyda's eyes , there was something else hiding in the darkness.

The man followed her gaze , watching the void engulfing them until he heard a single movement , which made him move like a beast of prey , having found his victim.

The woman seizing her chance , disappeared into the abyss of the corridors , leaving na-Baron , who returned to their meeting place moments later , with blood on his hands and a thirst that burned him alive. But she was no longer there.

When there was nowhere to run , he captured her once again. His gaze alone held her in place , as she stood before him so innocent , so delicate , in a white , lace dress that changed color when their blood merged with each other , uniting them forever . Feyd relished the sight of his wife , once so pure , now soiled with the blood he wanted to lick off her body , exchanging his oaths in a voice as cold as ice while his eyes burned with lust.

And when it was finally time to hunt , he felt the beast inside him tearing his way out.

-The time for the hunt has come - the priestess announced.

Na-Baron watched as the woman looked at him confused , but he only grasped her body in response , drawing her close to him.

-You won't run away from me this time…but I'll let you try - he whispered, before he let go of her body, watching as she moved in haste , flying away like a small bird that finally got its freedom , not knowing that a hungry wolf was right behind her.

Feyd let her disappear from his sight before he went after her. His steps echoed through the abandoned halls , but he didn't care , because he wanted her to know that he was coming for her , that he was close , so very close. He stalked her every move, always being one step ahead of her, even though she was still far away.

Until there was nowhere to run.

He found her in his chambers, naked , kneeling on the black satin sheets adorning his bed. She was looking at him, waiting.

He cupped her chin between two fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, while his thumb traced her full, red lips.

-I truly believed that you would give me a worthy chase. But you're lying here ready for me to devour you - he groaned , sliding his hand down her throat.

-Maybe I've grown tired of waiting for you to catch me, my lord husband - she confessed, rising gently, just enough to brush his lips with hers.

He tightened his fingers on her neck , pulling her closer , attacking her mouth. His kisses were sensual and brutal like him , taking the breath from her lungs as her hands tried desperately to strip him of his clothes , which kept her from feeling his pale skin on her fingertips.

-Aren't you desperate , little wife? - he murmured , inot her mouth

-Please…- she whispered.

Feyd moved away from her , leaving behind the feeling of need on her flesh. His hands stripped off his clothes at a slow pace , relishing in the way his wife , gazed at each , new piece of the skin he uncovered.

And when he got rid of everything that could separate them, he hovered over her just like the night they first met , kissing the skin of her collarbones , heading lower and lower , towards her ample breasts , her round hips and firm thighs.

-Feyd - she whispered, addressing him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking at him.

-I want to taste you , I need to know if you taste as sweet as your blood - he murmured, kissing her inner thigh.

Before the woman had time to reply to his words, his tongue touched her swollen clit, swirling around the pink pearl, making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward, imprisoning the man in the softness of her thighs. Na-Baron , in response, growled, clamping his hands on her body, drawing her impossibly closer, feasting. His mouth explored her womanhood, kissing and licking every part, leaving nothing without his attention. He was bestial, greedily sipping her juices, which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life, as his eyes stared at the woman before him, who was consumed by the convulsions of pleasure that tore through her body, making her burst into flames that consumed her mind. Feyd watched in delight as she broke under the impact of her orgasm, licking everything she gave him, feeling her muscles go limp under his fingertips and seeing her eyes cloud over with uncontrollable desire.

Without giving her time to recover , he lifted her trembling body , laying it on top of him , sitting down himself , leaning against the headboard of the massive bed.

-You will ride me my little wife , you will ride me until darkness appears in front of your eyes and your body stops listening to you - he growled , marking her neck with purple marks and angry red bites.

The male, grabbed her thighs, entered her slowly, unable to wait a moment longer. His shaft was so big, so thick, that his wife felt as if something was tearing her from the inside, feeling it deep in her belly. So deep that she couldn't breathe properly.

The movements of his loins were strong and rough. His member was kissing her cervix alternately with hitting a spongy point that made her walls clench so tight that no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't move. The woman was coming out to meet his thrusts, trying to catch up with him, trying to catch the sweet release he had given her a few seconds ago , already addicting to it. Arching her back and exposing herself completely, she wanted him to touch her and don't stop , never stop. And then she felt it. A mass of burning heat flooding her belly. She didn't know anymore whether it was her body that gave her that electrifying heat or maybe it was Feyd's warmth, but she accepted it, she accepted everything.

#feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x fem!reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune #dune smut #dune fanfiction #dune x reader #dune part 2 #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #my writing #austin butler x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x you

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notlhecxzsa · 4 months ago

Text

Never Be So Polite You Forget Your Power - N.R

Summary: After many years, Natasha has never felt so powerless until a decision was made. There was no way out in sight, but Natasha being a woman of power, pride, and determination, a new door towards the future she yearns for opens. With multiple sinful plans and ruthless games, she knew she would win it. But, will she? When a piece of pawn in the game of her father will get her caught up in so many ways she did not expect will trap her.

Author's Note: Part 2 is out! Did I forget to mention that Natasha is beefy here? (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ I apologize immediately for the wrong grammars and wordings, I didn't have much time to proofread since School have started already. 4.6k words.

Warnings: Warnings: Arranged marriage, cursing, violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, deprivation of many things as a child, G!p Natasha

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3rd Person's POV:

"Natasha Romanoff, once again outdone herself with her new multi-million project that has been the talk of the town in the business world..."

"Tony Stark, our favorite philanthropist praised and I quote; "She is deadly, really deadly, but if she's up for a collaboration with my company, my name's up in the building, Ms. Romanoff, I am in favor of anything with you...."

"In a world of men, she is the only woman who can dominate the world like this..."

"Multiple companies have been trying to engage with Romanoff's corporation, but still, our lady kept silent, standing tall -alone."

"...you know, sometimes it makes me think how hard it is to compete with someone like her. God, you haven't even started, you're already losing."

"Men and women, lining up for the nation's favorite redhead with such determination... who would be lucky?"

"You know, if that is a person, they would be dead by now." A voice with a thick russian accent echoed throughout the huge gym room. A mix of silver and black lacing the walls with so much sophistication, heavy metals lining up the matted ground.

Another groan left the redhead's lips, not from how hard her punch was sent on the punching bag, but from annoyance and a bubbling anger building up towards the new presence inside the room. "Not like you would care about the bodies lining up on your ground." The blonde woman added, her hand wiping an invisible dirt on one of the biggest dumbbells that was by her side.

"What do you want, Yelena?" With her teeth gritted, she asked harshly towards the younger woman. Unwrapping the protective cloth that she was wearing around her knuckles.

Beads of sweat rolling down her toned body, heart chest heaved with each breath she took before bending down to get her water bottle, quickly taking huge chugs out of it. Her buff and muscular arms flexed as she did so.

"Mama and Papa's upstairs..." The blonde started, trailing off as she hesitated to continue what she was saying, waiting for her older sister's reaction, knowing that the information alone could explain why she stepped foot inside the monstrous house of her sister.

"Hmmm, well, might as well tell them they could leave anytime." The redhead said nonchalantly, turning on her heels, walking past the blonde girl with her head held up high, her steps heavy on the floor.

"Natasha-" Yelena started, only to be cut off by her sister.

"You're wasting your time, Yelena." Natasha snapped, still looking ahead with Yelena following her hot on her heels.

"Papa has a new proposal." She said quickly as soon as the redhead stopped talking.

Natasha's steps faltered for a moment, but she never stopped walking. With a frown on her head, she stayed quiet until her eyes landed on her parents that were sitting on the expensive couches of her living room.

"Ahhh, Natalia, good to see you again, darling. You should get ready and change into something more presenta-" Her father started, which caused the bubbling annoyance inside her to fill up more. Without hesitation, she stopped him from talking much more, knowing where it will lead.

"No. You already know that I am not in favor in your plans or whatever it is that you badly want-" Now, tables have turned, she was cut off by her mother.

"Natasha, listen to your father first." Melina said, intervening, the atmosphere around them changing into a more tensed scenery.

"What? No! All of you know I will never do whatever it is that you want me to do. That privileged of yours to just order me around was already gone years ago. Dad." She said, an edge on her voice at the end, looking at her father as she sat calmly on one of the single sofa she has.

The other two women sat in silence, as a dark humourous chuckle filled the air. "You know, I can take it all, Natalia." Her father started, standing up as he marched around the room with so much dominance in his aura, turning around to stand infront of his family, with the beautiful view of the beach outside.

Her daughter really does a have a taste, that he can't ever deny.

"I hope you still do remember, half of your company, is under my name. I take it, you'll be free to watch it burn on the ground. All of this?..." Her father taunted, a smirk on his face that Natasha couldn't wait more to wipe out when she can finally be able to scream out the success of the plan she's been making and waiting for so long. "You wouldn't have done it, without me..." Oh what a lie.

Natasha's jaw clenched, knowing she can't do anything but let herself received all the things that was coming out of her father. Not yet. Natasha have been building up her company for god knows how long, with her own determination and knowledge.

Her father's company is even 1 step behind from hers. But, knowing if she fought him back now, all her plan would be nothing but a dream.

"I have a new proposal, Natalia. Imagine, what you can do and get, if you got it all? Hmm? Also, having someone to be with you... for you to control, to use, while also getting everything you've ever wanted." Natasha frowned, her father's presence now beside her.

What her father was saying was very different from what he wanted from her. For her to combine her company to their family's company, which is owned by her father. She won't ever let someone touch what's hers, not ever her own blood. Her possession is her pride, she'll bleed first before it can be taken away from her touch.

"What are you saying?" She muttered, her eyes boring into her father's with such coldness that the two other women felt a chill ran down their spine.

"I'll get to the point..." Alexie started, breathing out with a smile that even Natasha couldn't figure out what was behind it. "Y/L/N's clan... Remember?" A hint behind Natasha's eyes glimmered.

They were one of the most known family in the business world, also one of the powerful people underground. She knows that their family has a bond with them years ago, but, she was too little to know much. Too innocent.

"They have a daughter. A nuptial from the both of you can bring us so much more. Imagine, Natalia..." Her father came closer while she continued to stay silent, her gaze scold and her lips tight in a line. "Imagine what power we can hold... What we can dominate in both of our worlds, with a union between the both of our families... Natalia, we will be unstoppable." Her father stated, Natasha thought of one word. A madman.

"Why me?" She questioned. "Why not Yelena?" She continued, throwing a gaze towards her little sister.

A humourous chuckle once again left Alexei. "You are better that her, Natalia. You know that. You..." Alexei came more close, Natasha leaned back, her face full of disgust, but it seemed to go unnoticed by her father.

Caressing her cheek, not noticing how her other daughter's face was filled with sadness. "You are my creation. I built you. Out of all people, I know it's you who can bring such honor in our family." Alexei smiled widely, pulling away as he stood tall with pride while Natasha continued to gaze towards the nothingness.

"You have no choice, Natalia..." With that, she looked up, her frown almost deep as the ocean as her heart pounded.

"Every documents have been made. Plans are being done. The only thing that's left is a feastful dinner with our soon to be extended family."

Everything stopped, the world seemed to have also stopped from turning. She wanted to scream, to yell, to thrash, but she was stuck in her place.

She knew, once her father had set his mind on something, it is to be made. But, when he already made an action, it was a complete different story. Nothing could stop him, god, not even her at this moment.

She thought quickly and know that if she interfered, everything she had worked hard for will turn into dust. Even the plan she was making outside her father's knowledge will be nothing.

As soon as she snapped out of the dazed she was in, she realized that she was finally left alone. That was when everything she was feeling came out of the bottle she was holding her emotion into. She threw the tumbler she was holding towards the expensive painting in the living room, causing the protective glass to crash on the ground. After that, she swiped off the vases that was beautifully set up on the small table beside the couch she was sitting on.

Her chest now heaved with so much anger, her jaws stayed clenched as her fist balled up.

She'll make him pay. Not yet, but soon enough. He will be underneath the ground she was walking on.

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Natasha's POV:

"That's the 5th girl you've brought home in just 4 days, Nat. Are you trying to break a record or something? Damn." I winced at the loud booming voice of Maria, Clint chuckling beside her as they came inside my office.

"If you don't shut your mouth, I will throw this glass of water in both of your faces." I grumbled, putting my hand up on my spacious office table, closing my eyes as I sigh.

"You always ovulate so hard when you're stressed." Clint stated, before I heard a small thump and yelped from Clint.

I frowned, opening my eyes to see them both trying to hold their laughter. "The heck are you talking about?" Rolling my eyes, I sat up, stretching my aching body.

"Why don't you just get this all done, god, we all know you can finish your dad in just one slam." Maria said, fake exhaustion lacing through her voice while Clint took his gun and started cleaning it.

"Hmm, you know I can't." I muttered, having absolutely no energy to talk about this again.

"Do you? Or you just don't want to?" I frowned at the sudden tone of Clint.

"Can you guys just get out? Why are you both even here? Where's Bucky? I told him to get me painkillers." I said in annoyance, rubbing both of my hands on my face harshly, as if it would make the thumping pain on my head go away.

"Well, he said we would guide the girl out, guess after that he went to make 'Stevie' some breakfast." Clint said, Maria chuckled along with him and I rolled my eyes, already getting used to their antics and behaviors.

They've been with me for years already, they are close to what I can call home. They are the ones whom I trust the most, with everything I have.

"Oh, by the way, that girl- who is she again, Clint?" Maria started, and I looked at her with my brows still frowning.

"Mary?" Clint said, still focusing on his gun.

"No, no. Clara? No, something close to that. The one who called earlier!" Maria exaggerated.

"Ohhh, the girl who kept calling you because Nat gave your number instead of hers? It's Carol." He said nonchalantly and I rolled my eyes at the memory, putting my face in both of my hands again.

"Yeah, that one. She went here earlier wanting to talk to you, but Bucky said after she saw the girl walked out of her, she went away immediately. She even screamed at Bucky's face to tell you that you're an asshole." Maria stated, chuckling as she said the story.

I grumbled, not even remembering what that Carol looks like. Maybe one of those girl who wanted more of me.

"Bucky should've praised her." Clint side commented with a smirk on his face.

"I don't have time for those. Is there a news from the greatest father of all time?" I asked, leaning back on my soft office chair, crossing my arms as I look to the both of them.

I saw how they gaze at each other, signaling to tell whatever it is. I raised one of my eyebrows, indicating that I am waiting, and they know how much I hate to wait.

"Well- that was actually why we're here." Maria started before looking over at Clint once again.

"They're here." Clint blurted out which made me frown and falter for a moment.

"And they want you to come with them. It's time, Nat." I sat up straight, gripping both sides of my chair.

"What? He can't work that fast!?" I exclaimed, my frown deepening as I did so.

"You know Alexei, Nat. He probably pulled some strings just to get it done quickly." Maria shrugged.

God, I am surely not ready for that to happen so quickly. It hasn't been a month since the news was dropped on me like a truck from the sky.

But, maybe... This is a sign. As quickly this would come will be result for my plans to get started and done immediately.

"Get everything ready. If they want to do this now, well then I guess I have no choice but to finish this sooner."

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3rd Person's POV:

Natasha and her family sat at the luxurious table, along with Phoveus and Carmilla. As the elders chatted away about everything, mostly about business, Natasha and Yelena sat quietly, with Yelena eating whatever finger food she could reach as Natasha sat with a distant and cold look visible in her face. Looking like she would rather to be anywhere but here.

A hurried voice interrupted through the atmosphere around them, but Natasha never looked up, her eyes stayed glued to the platters that held foods that was probably cooked by one of the highest paid chef around the area. "Madam, Sir, your daughter is here." A familiar voice echoed throughout the large dining area.

"Ahhh, Y/n, come here, sweetheart." Again, Natasha didn't do anything, if anyone would throw her a glance, none of them would have the courage to talk to her or even approach her.

But, if they would only see what was going on inside the redhead's mind as it run miles and miles with her lower stomach doing flips upon hearing the unexpected name.

Y/n.

Looking up, her eyes immediately landed on the woman who she had a vague memory of, but know too well at the same time. Her breath caught up in her throat, making a lump to form that she can't seem to clear. With her heart thumping its way out of her chest, after finally putting a face on the name, she remembered one thing.

"Sweetheart, this is Alexei and Melina... remember them?" Y/n nodded, staying silent but gave off a small smile and a wave, not used to the attention she was receiving as one of the men pulled a chair for her to sit on.

Hiding her casted arms underneath the table, as she thought deeply what the occasion was all about, her eyes averting to Lucy through her lashes who stayed standing far behind the people that was infront of her. Gulping an invisible form that was sitting inside her throat she muttered a greeting. "Hi..."

Unaware of the weary eyes that was set on her figure that was glimmering with such familiarity.

There were a couple of conversations that went on, with Y/n not clearly understanding what is it all about, only sitting quietly, playing with her finger, silently hoping for this to be all over.

Upon looking up and gazing around her surroundings, her eyes stopped at a certain redhead, who she thought was looking at her for a mere moment. A small frown appeared around the creased in between her eyebrows, a small tug of string in her memory as she tries to remember where she might have met her, or if she even met her already before.

She doubted, barely having the chance to go out as a child. Barely having the chance to live her life.

Her eyes continues to graze along the beautiful woman that was sitting in front of her. She may look a little bit intimidating, but to Y/n, there was a familiarity in her heart, a familiarity that screams something good. Enough for her to feel some sort of comfort towards the redhead, some sort of a breath of a fresh air.

She was really pretty, Y/n thought. Especially her short hair that looked almost fake with how perfect it seemed to be.

Her gaze faltered for a moment, catching a glimpse of the set of green eyes landing on hers as more foods was being put on the table, as if the foods that was already on it was not enough for the people in the table.

Her eyes, of course, finally taking in every food that was presented in front of them. Her, oh so, familiar hungry eyes, once again, tug a string on Natasha's mind, her jaw clenching as the annoying and blurry memories came rushing in once again.

She looked like she would devour every food in the table as soon as she could eat. But, with her doe eyes that held such innocence, Natasha, now felt a tug, not on her mind, but in her heart.

A familiar tug that she had felt years ago when she looked into the same pair of eyes. Shaking her head and averting her attention, Natasha cleared her throat and composed herself, breathing through her nose as she tries to wash away the thoughts that was eating her up like a virus.

"Today..." Y/n looked up upon hearing the booming noice of her father's voice, holding up a glass of an expensive wine. "Today marks the start of unending victory and success to both of our family." She watched as the elders cheers, clinking of glasses could be heard, her eyes averting on the redhead and the blonde who only leaned their glasses towards where the others were meeting. She felt so out of place.

So, she took a hold of her glass, the one filled with what seemed like a fresh squeeze of orange juice, just how she likes it, holding it up. A blush on her face appeared, embarrassed on how she might have looked so stupid, immediately putting the glass down, her head did the same, finding the golden platter much more interesting.

Again, oblivious to the set of eyes that was burning holes through the side of her head. Fighting off a smirk that wants to be let out, Natasha cleared her throat again, listening to Phoveus ramble about the upcoming union that will be held for the both of them as they started to eat.

Upon looking at the man, her eyes once again averted to the younger woman who was sitting beside him. She saw how the girl's munching on the food suddenly faltered, looking up at her father confusedly, so much curiosity in her eyes but seems like there was no answer coming up.

Her eyes looked like they held no thoughts behind it, as she looked down, Natasha noticed one her arm that has a cast around it and frowned before her eyes averted to the young woman's face.

She saw how deep she was thinking, trailing her eyes on every food that was on her plate, trailing the designs that adorned it, as if it would give her the answer.

Wasn't she aware of what was happening? Natasha thought, only to be snapped out of her daze as she heard the sudden screech of the chair, and a soft voice, pardoning an excuse, muttering about going to the bathroom real quick.

"...she'll managed, don't worry. You won't ever hear a word from her, trust me." Her eyes landed on the disgusting smile that was present on Phoveus face.

"Would it be more easy if Y/n knows about this? I mean... this is a lot... to be honest. And... she's so young." Natasha frowned upon hearing what her mother had said, for the first time finally catching up on what they were talking about, her ears ringing as she caught what they were pertaining to.

"Nah... just trust me on this one. She would agree to everything we would say. I mean, if it weren't for us, she wouldn't be having a life like this..." Natasha's eyes caught a movement from behind Phoveus, a shift from one of the maids that looks like the head of something inside this manor. She saw the hardened gaze of the woman on the back of Phoveus's head, her jaw clenching like a steel. "If she does see eye to eye to what we attained her to be, she know exactly what would happen." A laugh that sounded almost like the devil came out of the man, her father following by, nodding his head unconsciously.

"You trained her well, Phov." Her father said which fueled to the news she just received.

Before anyone could utter a word, she sat up straight, blurting out words. "She doesn't know?" Natasha's cold voice echoed throughout the atmosphere, and it, alone, changed the tension around the room.

Melina shifted uncomfortably, Yelena's chewing faltered for a moment as all the eyes was set on hers. "God, how old even is she? You can't expect me to marry someone without their consent. Let alone marrying someone who has not come of age." She ranted, her voice in monotone as her cold and hardened eyes gaze around the people that was sat with her on the table.

"She's eighteen, Natasha." Carmilla said, an uncomfortable smile playing on her face as she tried to calm the growing tension inside the room.

"Her parents has the consent, you don't have to worry about that, Natalia." Her father added, causing her fist to balled up, her face finally showing a slight emotion.

"Everything is all set, all of you won't have anything to worry about. My daughter knows where her place is, and I'm sure, you guys won't want to back out from everything... right?" Phoveus taunted, her face getting serious before a laughter from Alexei filled the air.

"Of course, of course, now, why don't we just enjoy this lovely dinner." With that, the young woman entered the room, Natasha was left with so many unsaid words.

She wanted to protest and say her part freely, but the new presence inside the room somehow made her back up. Her tensed shoulder relaxed as she watched the girl sit back to where she was sitting earlier, her head down as she gripped the spoon with her one hand, her other hand stayed underneath the table, as a new flow of conversation as thrown in the middle of the dining table.

Swallowing the words, she stood up, excusing herself without any more explanation coming out of her mouth. Before anyone had the chance to say anything, she was met with the wind blowing through the large patio that gives her the best view of the backyard.

Putting both of her hands on the railing, she took a deep breath, stretching her neck from side to side to release that stress that was building up like waves.

It felt like there was something pinching her insides at the thought of you. You've grown so much, grown so different... yet still the same. Grown so beautiful, still like a porcelain doll. God, how could they treat you like that? Like a puppet, no reason to be heard or to be seen. She felt almost guilty, feeling so down about the arranged nuptial, but what about you? Who doesn't even know what tomorrow will bring.

Her fist clenched as her breathing became labor, seeing you again, it brought so many things to her. Things she didn't know she would feel... again. She may be too young before, but she was already being trained to be something more. She was not innocent or naive about what she was feeling.

My, she can't feel like this! She wouldn't get any benefit from feeling like this for you. It has been years, you might not even remember her. She's nothing to you and you are absolutely nothing to her. You were just a pawn in your parents game, and she wouldn't be like you. No, she would never be like you.

"...for you to control... to use." Her father's words rang inside her head. Her jaw clenched, thinking how dumb her father was, how ugly his personality is and how high his ego.

She's nothing like him. Nothing like anyone. She may be ruthless, cold, hardened by the years, but she would never, ever do something like that to someone so innocent... especially someone like Y/n.

Shaking her head to throw away her thoughts, she breathed in and out. She should stop thinking like this, she should not think like this. Not to anyone, especially not to someone who means nothing to her.

The creaking of the large doors made Natasha's ears perked up, following by the sound of footsteps she had learned after years of growing together. "Needed a breather?" The voice of her little sister rattled in her ears.

Natasha let out a rather harsh sigh, rolling her eyes as she stood up straight. "What do you want, Yelena?" Natasha asked, ignoring the question that was thrown at her.

"Hmm..." Yelena only replied with a hum, stepling forward to step beside her sister. Her big sister whom she looked up to while growing up. "Was it hard?" She added in the midst of silence, looking up at Natasha briefly before gazing at the scenery in front of them.

A confused frown appeared on Natasha's face, her eyes narrowing as she tries to figure out what she was referring to. Upon sensing her sister's hesitance in replying, she continued. "Learning to live your own life... fighting your demons..." There was a whole paused as Natasha waited while Yelena contemplated how to put her words together. "... finally having the chance to make up your own decisions and choices?" Words hang around the atmosphere.

Natasha may be looking at the vast space in front of her but her mind is elsewhere, so as Yelena's. She knew, they both knew how hard it was growing up, especially with their lifestyle and a father like Alexei. They weren't given a choice, just as how they weren't giver a choice while growing up. Natasha couldn't whisk out why Yelena is asking her that, they weren't used to this kind of conversation, something so personal... so vulnerable. But, she found herself building up words to tell.

Natasha's demeanor faltered for a moment, before she started speaking. "Everything is hard. It's all complicated. Nothing will seem right, especially while growing up..." Natasha started, slouching down to rest her elbows on the railings, gazing intently towards the green grass and trees that surrounded the backyard. "You could get lost... not knowing where you want to be-... who you want to be. It has been hard, it still is. What is worse... is not having your own choice. Not being able to control your own actions. Your own decisions." She let out a chuckle, maybe it was just the wine taking cover of her whole system, god has she been drinking that much? She's not a lightweight, that's for sure.

"You know... I'd rather-... I'd rather die than to live for someone else." There was a big blow of a wind. She received no reply from the shorter woman, as Yelena only gaze at nothing, her heart and mid in a raging storm.

For a moment, Natasha felt so weak, so vulnerable. Everything is coming at her, once again, she let someone control her, but then again, it is for the better, right? She was choking in her own words of wisdom, finding no way to recover but to spit it out.

The familiar sound of the glassy door opening reached their hearing once again, but this time, there was an unfamiliar footsteps. Yelena shifted to look behind them while Natasha only closed her eyes while taking a deep breath, god, she'd do anything just to get away from her.

"I'll-... I'll check on mom." Yelena muttered, excusing herself before walking pass the smaller woman with a small smile on her face appearing, something to exchange the welcoming smile of the girl.

"Na-... Natalia?"

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Author's Note: Gollyyyyy! Finally, I'm able to post this ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ Been sitting on my draft for too long, something came up earlier after I showered that concerns about my school ¯⁠\⁠_⁠ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠_⁠/⁠¯ but, nowwww here it is! I am very very sleepy right now, so this is not proofread, I'm sorry, but I hope you guys enjoy! ಠ⁠ᴥ⁠ಠ

Tags: @transparentflapfarmsludge @dvrkhcld @esposadejoyhuerta @natsxwife @justspance @cheekysnake-blog @wandasreallover

#lhecxzsa #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 3 months ago

Text

Forbidden Crown - VII

Summary: You and Kit prepare for your escape, everything seems to fall apart at your engagement party, and your mother reveals a shocking truth…

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: kissing, angst, reader prepares a murder, some boob touching, non-explicit mention of vomiting, medieval partying, drinking, drunk behavior

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: hope this one knocks your socks off

“Strike once. Through the heart.” Kit instructed, handing you a sword before stepping back.

You stood over the training dummy lying on the stone floor of the armory, the tip of your sword hesitating over its straw chest. The dummy was made to mimic a human form, and while its thatched figure was less than realistic, the very idea that it could one day be Kit filled you with a deep sense of dread. “I… I c-cannot…”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “You promised me…”

“Suppose I don’t intend to keep my promise?”

“Then we can’t go.”

Your face crumpled in defeat as your shoulders slumped, the sword dropping to your side. Kit softened her stance, placing a hand on your shaking shoulder. “Don’t… don’t think of it as me, alright? Because it won’t be. It’ll be… a walking infection, with an ashen face and lifeless eyes. Nothing but an ensorcelled servant to the Wyrm.”

She repositioned the sword in your hands, helping you hold it properly before stepping back again. “Protect yourself, Princess.”

You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut before plunging the sword straight through the dummy’s heart. Straw flew up at the impact, drifting around you and making you sneeze. You dropped the sword with a loud clatter, body trembling as you stumbled back into the armory wall. Tears began to spill down your cheeks, and Kit was quick to comfort you.

“It’s alright,” she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “You did perfectly.”

You spoke between ragged breaths. “I don’t… ever… want to have… to do that… again…”

Kit’s thumb wiped your tear-stained face. “Perhaps you won’t have to,” she said, though her words rang hollow, and deep down you sensed she didn’t believe them either.

The fortnight that followed was filled with planning, mapping, and gathering for your escape. Kit regularly pilfered smaller weapons from the armory, stashing them at the bottom of storage chests, beneath her bed, or anywhere she knew a chambermaid would overlook. You were tasked with securing food—a much more difficult endeavor, as stealing from the kitchen without arousing suspicion from the staff proved quite challenging.

It was Kit who had the brilliant idea to procure the help of the kitchen maid. However, the one she called ‘Muffin Girl’ held you both in little favor—Kit due to her relentless teasing, and you for more… obvious reasons. The only one she did seem to favor was her paramour, Airk, so it wasn’t long before he was enlisted as an oblivious pawn in your scheme.

“Remind me why I’m sneaking you extra provisions?” Airk inquired one evening, delivering a basket of bread and fruit preserves to your chamber.

You accepted graciously. “I’d simply like to… fill out my bridal gown a bit more,” you lied.

Airk’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “You mean to say you eat all of this? Each night? By yourself?”

You shrugged innocently. “Kit intends to fill hers out as well.”

He remained puzzled, but a quick mutter about ‘a secret matter of womanhood’ had him bidding you goodnight and taking his leave. It wasn’t a lie, per se—you and Kit were both women with a secret, after all.

As the days passed, your diligent efforts began to bear fruit and your journey was well underway. Of course, your meticulous scheming was not without consequence. Sex became nonexistent, as you both were so preoccupied with getting your affairs in order that it was the furthest thing from your mind. That's not to say either of you wouldn’t benefit from some physical release—coordinating an escape could be vexing—but there was a time and place for everything, and you two would have ample opportunity for such matters once you reached Nockmaar.

Eventually, all packing, planning, and preparations were complete, and right in the hour of necessity, as your parents had arranged an engagement party just two nights before the weddings.

You stood in your chamber, gazing at your reflection in the mirror, clad in the golden ball gown your mother insisted upon. It was a fine dress—you would surely be the envy of every maiden at the party—but it had been awhile since you’d worn a gown of such opulence, and truthfully, it was not to your taste. Your everyday dresses were simpler—looser, allowing a wider range of movement—and never so ostentatious.

“Gold,” your mother had emphasized when she presented the gown earlier that day. “It signifies wealth, luxury, nobility.”

It was difficult to fathom why your mother had been so insistent upon a color denoting status. Azarenth might have been a smaller realm than Tir Asleen, or even Galladoorn, but it was a kingdom nonetheless, and you a princess. Perhaps your mother was overcompensating, simply seeking to appear at equal stature with the other kingdoms.

Suddenly, the sound of a doorknob turning jolted you from your reverie. You smoothed your dress one last time before leaving the mirror to find your mother in the doorway, donning a rust-red gown.

You should have known; your mother wouldn’t knock, nor have any regard for your privacy.

“The guests will be arriving shortly, you’re needed in the ballroom,” she proclaimed.

String music from the consort echoed through the lofty ceilings of Tir Asleen’s grand ballroom. Long tables encircled the dancing area, with place markers clearly labeled for each guest. You were stationed at the front of the hall, joining your parents, the Tanthalos’, and the Hastur’s in greeting the guests as they arrived.

“Thank you for coming. “A pleasure to meet you.” “It’s an honor,” each phrase rolled from your lips, spoken with the practiced formality of routine. Despite your efforts, your wooden smile couldn’t reach your eyes, and a glance at Kit showed she wore a similar mask of indifference.

Kit had worn a dress. You shouldn’t have been surprised; it wasn’t as if Sorsha would have allowed her daughter to wear breeches to one of the most important events of the year. But you had never seen Kit in a dress before, at least not that you could remember, and it certainly was a sight to behold. The fabric hugged her figure in a manner foreign to her usual tunics, and its v-shaped neckline dipped low enough to reveal a bit of cleavage—a stark reminder of the recent lack of intimacy. A metal asymmetrical corset enveloped her waist, complementing the silver motif that adorned the rich green fabric.

Green. The color associated with Galldoorn, and also known to symbolize fertility. You could vomit.

Once the concourse was seated, the feast began. At the high table, you watched as servants poured wine and served roasted meats to the guests. Among them was the one Kit had dubbed ‘Muffin Girl,’ her long blonde hair secured with a linen coif. She kept her head bowed among the other cupbearers—ashamed to be working at her forbidden lover’s engagement party—but occasionally cast furtive glances at the high table, her gaze lingering on Airk.

“Muffin Girl has her sights set upon your betrothed,” Kit whispered from beside you. “Are you prepared to duel for his hand?”

You snorted, quickly concealing your amusement behind your goblet. “Have you spoken to your intended yet?”

“I have,” she replied, her lips curling in amusement. “I even curtsied. Like a real lady. And he sort of… grunted… and shuffled his feet. Like a real… winner.”

“So he’s a mouse,” you said, turning to look at Graydon, who sat with his father at the other end of the table. The way he choked on his wine, sputtering it down the front of his doublet, spoke volumes; much like your father, he was a royal only by blood. Otherwise, he was a meek, reticent man—undoubtedly lacking the ability to keep up with a headstrong woman such as Kit.

As you and Kit exchanged giggles and gossip throughout the meal, Sorsha rose, tapping her silverware against her goblet and commanding the room's attention. “For many moons,” she began. “Tir Asleen has maintained civility with both Azarenth and Galladoorn. Three kingdoms, joined together, but ruling separately… until now.”

Kit slipped her hand under the table and rested it upon your upper thigh. You shivered at the unexpected contact, quickly ensuring no one saw before returning your attention to Sorsha.

“In two days time,” she continued. “My son and daughter shall wed the Princess of Azarenth and the Prince of Galladoorn, respectively. At last, our three kingdoms shall be united—strengthening us and ensuring a harmonious future.” She raised her goblet. “To the brides and grooms; may they rule wisely, and justly, and foster unity and strength within our kingdoms!”

The crowd raised their glasses, clinking them together amongst cries of “To the realm” and “Hear, hear!” You turned towards Kit, studying her expression for any sign of guilt at forsaking her kingdom, but her lips were curled in a celebratory smile as she tapped her glass against yours.

You stood to the side like a hawk perched in the rafters, watching as Graydon awkwardly led Kit around the dance floor. He was a dreadful dancer, unable to meet Kit’s eye as he watched his own feet stumble over here. As humorous as the display was, your gaze focused solely on the hand he rested at Kit’s waist. You shouldn’t have been jealous, you had no reason to be; Kit barely tolerated this poor-excuse for a prince. Yet, the way he was able to hold her close, to take her hand in public without hesitation, ignited a burning envy within you.

The goblet in your hand was nearly empty, and the song had just begun. Visiting the wine table for a refill sounded tempting, but your gaze refused to stray from Kit. You told yourself you were protecting her, simply ensuring Graydon’s fingers refrained from wandering, though you knew it was senseless; Kit could take care of herself, and she would if she deemed it necessary.

Brief visions of Kit drawing her sword at the mere twitch of Graydon’s thumb crossed your mind, and you couldn’t suppress the snort that escaped.

Your amusement caught Kit’s attention, and she turned from Graydon momentarily to face you. Her eyes softened with pity; Kit had been your companion for fifteen years, and as much as you tried to hide it, she could recognize how bothered you were watching her dance with Graydon.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed. Her face shone with concern before crumpling into another wince as her partner stepped on her toes once again.

“In need of company, Princess?”

You spun around to find Airk facing you, his lips curled in a sympathetic smile. Airk had always been handsome—a trait perhaps the reason he was so popular with the ladies—and tonight was no exception. His usually loose brown curls had been slicked back, highlighting his sharp features and piercing green eyes. A doublet the color of coffee beans decorated his torso—understated, much less ornate than Graydon’s grandiose gettup, but Airk didn’t need magnificence. Unlike Graydon, who would likely disappear into the walls of the castle if it weren’t for his crown and jewels, Airk stood forth without assistance. He was simply… Airk, prince of Tir Asleen—all the young women pined for his affections, and you were the one to marry him.

Perhaps if things were different, if you were different, you would be the happiest maiden in all the land.

”You appear lonesome,” Airk spoke again. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were completely disinterested in this entire ordeal.”

You smirked, taking the last sip from your goblet. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to, there's nowhere I’d rather be.”

He chuckled, offering his hand. “Care to dance?”

You accepted his invitation, grateful for the distraction, and let him lead you to the floor. Kit caught your eye as you made your way, her face scanning yours for any sign of trivial revenge, but your warm smile reassured her and she turned back to her partner.

Airk kept his hand in yours, but moved his other to sit at your waist, while yours rested on his shoulder. Neither of you were very interested in dancing properly, so you simply swayed to the tune of the consort’s playing. As you enjoyed the silent comfort of Airk’s company, you caught sight of your mother across the room, standing with your father and Queen Sorsha. You began to realize why she had insisted you wear such a fanciful gown; the brick-red of her own garment seemed dull in comparison to Sorsha’s deep crimson one. If it wasn’t for the splendor of your golden attire, Azarenth would appear poor in comparison.

While you pondered the monotony of your mother’s attire, Airk suddenly moved closer, mere inches from your face. Your breath hitched, shoulders tensed. He wasn’t, no, he wouldn’t…

He smirked. “Surely you didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” He whispered in your ear with a chuckle. “I know where I stand.”

You sighed, relieved. He wouldn’t. “Of course.”

“I was simply going to ask if our parents were watching,” he whispered again.

You peered over his shoulder, locking eyes with your mother. She wore a beam of approval you hadn’t seen since you inadvertently agreed to marry Airk as a child. It pained you, somewhat, that smile. From her viewpoint, her daughter was dancing intimately with her betrothed while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. It was all she’d ever wanted. And it was a lie.

“At last, I’m the daughter she’s always wanted.” You muttered solemnly. Airk’s mouth formed a straight line of sympathy, squeezing your hand in an attempt at comfort. “You should see their faces.”

Airk spun you around so he could see for himself, and as he did you met eyes with the blond servant tagged as ‘Muffin Girl,’ clearing tables with the rest of the staff. Her glare wasn’t as cold or threatening as it usually was towards you; instead she just appeared… sad, defeated even. You couldn’t help but feel pity towards her; you knew how it felt to watch your lover dance with another, to be promised to another.

”They do seem quite pleased,” he commented.

“Unlike your mistress,” you spun him back around, shrinking under the weight of her unbearable stares.

He glanced over at her, a momentarily flickering of longing in his eyes before turning back to you. “Is your paramour present this evening?” He asked, scanning the hall. “Wherever he may be?”

You forced a smile, fighting back the urge to correct his pronoun misuse. “Closer than you might think.”

Before Airk had the chance for further inquiries, the music ceased, signaling the end of the dance. You broke away from each other, joining in polite applause with the rest of the partygoers. He bowed, bidding you adieu before exiting the floor—perhaps in search of closure from his forbidden lover.

The dancing area was nearly empty when the consort began to play a new song—still slow, but far less somber than before. Sounds of a vielle’s plucked strings filled your ears, giving the emerging melody an almost romantic air. Your eyes met Kit’s—who had also been abandoned by her partner on the far side of the room—and you exchanged glances full of unattainable longing.

In the center of the floor stood two women, close companions from a nearby village, caressing each other with cheeks rosy from the flush of wine, their laughter louder than the music as they swayed. They drew little notice, these ladies, dancing together in their tipsy states; they appeared as merely two friends, carousing as their husbands were elsewhere.

Husbands. Surely they had arrived with their respective spouses. No one would question a married woman dancing chaste with her female companion.

Your gaze returned to Kit, and an unspoken understanding passed between you. Slowly, you moved towards each other, each step forward echoing within you like a heartbeat. Your breath caught as you finally stood face to face, skin mere inches apart, the closest you had been, had been allowed to be, all night. She didn’t speak. She had no need. Her hands moved to sit at your waist, while your arms floated up and draped around her neck.

In every story, all the romance novels you’ve read, this was the moment when the world around you was meant to melt away, only leaving you and Kit together in its sanctum. But as hard as you tried, as much as you longed to lose yourself in the arms of your beloved, you were acutely aware of your surroundings. Whispers from the concourse seemed to drown out the music, filling you with a pertinent dread. It was one thing for the two commoners to dance together at a party, but you and Kit were royals—yet to be wed—and your closeness perhaps breached propriety more than the women you sought to emulate.

“Are you well?” Kit whispered, sensing your trepidation.

All you could do was nod, mind still absent. The arms you had wrapped around her neck trembled as you buried your face in her shoulder, desperate to block out the world.

Kit chuckled. “I’m not complaining, but you needn’t hold me so tightly, Princess. You have no reason to be so envious of Prince Graydon.”

You pulled back, mouth agape, but giggled upon catching the glint of mischief in Kit’s eye. “I most certainly am not.”

“You most certainly were,” she countered. “Enough so you engaged in dancing with my brother to enact your revenge.”

“I was simply dancing with my betrothed,” you retorted with a grin. “Just as you were.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I saw you, watching me from afar. Envy practically radiated off your body, green as my array this evening.”

“You forget yourself, Tanthalos,” you laughed, smacking her shoulder.

And in that moment—the moment where Kit held you close, her nose scrunching and eyes sparkling as she laughed with you, where you had momentarily forgotten your environs and allowed yourself to be silly with the person you loved, the one who loved you—that was the moment the world around you finally seemed to melt away, leaving only you and Kit together in this melodic bubble. Even so, you could feel your mother’s eyes boring into you from across the room, but for once, you could cast all cares and worries of her judgment aside. She had gotten what she wanted; you had danced with Airk. It was your turn to indulge.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Kit said, drawing you from your thoughts.

You gave her a small smile. “You have nothing to make up for.”

“I do,” she argued. “And I will.” Her thumb stroked the plush of your sides as she leaned in closer to whisper. “And if it weren’t obvious, you are a much better dance partner than Graydon could ever be. I haven’t checked yet, but I’m sure my poor toes are as bruised as they feel.”

You winced in sympathy, but then chuckled along with her until the song came to an end. Applause filled the hall once more, you and Kit joining in after breaking away from each other. With an exchange of curtsy’s, and a final squeeze of your hand, Kit turned and exited the dance floor, vanishing within the crowd like the last note of the consort’s melody.

As the night wore on, bottles of wine seemed to disappear from the tables, replaced only by the staggering and raucous laughter from the party guests. Servants bustled about, clearing empty bottles and mopping spills, while the retinue danced to lively music.

You were no exception to the tipsy merrymakers, the apples of your cheeks tinted pink from the mixture of claret and revelry. Strands of hair had strayed from your once-neat pinup, clinging to your forehead and the sides of your face through beads of sweat. You took another sip from your goblet as you swayed out of sync, comforted by your boozy blur and the warmth in your belly.

Kit had faded from view long ago—not that you were particularly concerned. The gathering was quite large; she could have easily merged with the throng. Although it was unlikely, given that Kit—much like her brother—was difficult to lose in a crowd, it was still a possibility. Moreover, it seemed Graydon had little taste for festivity, choosing instead to hover in the shadows or remain close to his father, as if he were a lost youth amidst a horde of strangers.

As long as Graydon didn’t wish to be seen, Kit had no need to be seen.

The night was certainly alive with the company in high spirits, but for all the sport it provided, you were beginning to grow weary. Finishing your drink, you sought solace near a window at the far end of the hall, partially concealed by heavy velvet drapes. You leaned back, catching your breath while allowing the cool glass to temper your heated skin.

As you began to relax, your breath evening out, a disembodied hand emerged from behind the curtains, seizing your arm and pulling you out of sight. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, but another hand quickly covered your mouth, stifling your cries of protest. The dense curtains eclipsed any light, and fear coursed through your veins as the shadowy figure loomed over you, overpowering your struggles…

“Shh… shh… My lady, it’s me.”

The familiarity of the whispered voice immediately calmed your nerves. You blinked, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness until Kit’s sweet face came into view.

“Kit, what are you…”

“I promised I’d make it up t’ you, didn’t I?”

Even in the dim light, the flush of her cheeks was evident. Her hair, once elegantly arranged, now hung about her head in a tangled mess. Each word she spoke reeked of fruit and spirits, her sentences punctuated by giggles and hiccups. Kit was thoroughly inebriated, perhaps even more so than you.

“Yes, but, I…”

Before you could finish, her mouth was on yours. She kissed you sloppily, her hands lazily gripping at your waist to pull you closer. Her lips, the heat of her breath tasted flammable, almost, yet still so intoxicating. You wanted so badly to give into her, to melt under her burning flame, but you pulled away.

“Kit…” you breathed. “Not here…”

“Why?” She groaned. “S’ been so long.”

Your eyes flickered down to her chest once again, gulping at the sight of her bare décolletage. She had a point—a dangerously tempting point—but her invitation posed too great a risk.

“If someone from the party were to find us…”

She dismissed your concern with a wave of her hand. “They’re all b’scotted. Utterly foxed. ‘S fine.”

“Kit,” you giggled. “You’re quite muddled yourself.”

“You’re one t’ speak,” she snorted. Her hands tangled in your hair, destroying what was left of your pinup as she stumbled. You had to laugh, despite yourself; although your soused stupor was much more relaxed than Kit’s, it was far from negligible.

“Alright,” you held onto her hands. “Perhaps we should retire for bed.”

“Fin’ly…”

“Kit,” you blocked her advance, despite every inch of your body screaming to give in. She groaned again, and you sighed, struggling against thoughts of what those groans might sound like under different circumstances…

No. “Surely they’ll notice our absence.”

“Graydon ‘s busy in the corner,” she slurred. “Airk ‘s gone ‘s well. We won't be missed.”

You frowned, knowing just how right she was; with your suitors missing, no one would be searching for the two of you. Beyond that, every moment spent with her in this pocket of darkness only made you want her more—to feel her on you, her mouth against your skin, her hands roaming your body. It truly had been too long, and the sight of her in that bedeviled dress did nothing to soothe your desires.

Almost as if she could sense your thoughts, as if she had planned on interrupting them, Kit pressed her lips to yours once more. This time, you didn’t resist and allowed yourself to burn under the heat of her body. You could never tire of her taste, her touch, her feeling; you could get drunk off her alone, even without the vine’s blood plaguing her breath.

The world seemed to spin faster with your oxygen now compromised, but Kit remained your anchor. You reached for her shoulders to steady yourself, but your hands inadvertently fell at her breasts. A soft whimper escaped her throat, almost inaudible over the roar of the party, but still resonant in your ears. Your fingers slid down her skin, dipping lower, lower, until they grazed the edge of that plunging neckline that had tortured you all night. She only spurred you forward, seizing your hips and pressing them against hers as your touch ventured beyond the fabric of her dress, fingertips exploring the delicate flesh that lay beneath it.

God, she was soft. How was she always so soft?

Her breath quickened, the hot air tickling the skin around your mouth. You took it as an incentive to lose yourself further and further in the arms of your lover, drowning in her warm embrace and the taste of Falernian wine that still lingered on her tongue. She was all-consuming, and the way she gripped at your sides told you she felt the same way about you.

You were both so absorbed in each other, so immersed in the private world you had created, that neither of you noticed the blinding scourge of light that intruded upon it.

Followed by a shrill scream.

That you did notice.

Pulling back, you ignored Kit’s whines of protest and squinted at the disruptive brightness. There, in front of you, was none other than Muffin Girl, clutching the velvet drapes and wearing a look of terror. Behind her stood an equally-stunned Airk, and you swore, for but a fleeting moment before they separated, their hands were intertwined.

You were frozen in place; her scream had alerted the party’s multitude. All eyes fell unto you as the music ceased, the hall became as still as the private chapel during prayers. Your gaze surveyed the room, taking in the varied facial expressions of your party guests—shocked, horrified, disgusted, perhaps even some lascivious interest from a few less-than-respectable individuals. Sorsha’s visage was different, however—still aghast, but not directed towards you, rather slightly lower, and that’s when you felt Kit tugging at your wrists.

Realization hit you like the strike of a battering ram; you had yet to remove your hold on Kit’s breast. Queen Sorsha of Tir Asleen, your hostess, your future mother-in-law, had just happened upon you with your hand down her daughter’s dress.

Immediately, you stepped back and let your hands fall to your sides, yours and Kit’s faces flushed and fear-stricken as you desperately tried to smooth yourselves out. But when you looked up for the final time, catching sight of your own mother’s face, you knew then and there you had reached far beyond the point of no return. You expected her to yell, to scream as Muffin Girl had, or to react with the fury of a siege engine, but she did not. She merely composed herself, turned on her heel, and walked briskly out of the hall. Your father trailed after her, and you knew you were expected to follow as well.

The rest of the party wasn’t far behind. Never before in Tir Asleen had a gathering disbanded so quickly.

Your mother didn’t bother to escort you to your guest chamber, nor even to her own. The first private place outside the ballroom happened to be the solar, so that’s where you ended up. You hadn’t been in the solar before, but it left much to be desired; tall wooden walls matched the floor, nearly barren save for a lone table in the center with benches on either side.

It was ironic, almost, that they called this room the “solar;” it was practically as frigid as your mothers demeanor.

She paced about, waiting for your father to shut the door behind you before dropping her pretense. “Do you loathe me?” She asked, taking you by surprise. “Do you? I can’t fathom what I’ve done. My own daughter, to hold such malice…”

“Mother…”

“I chose a fine young man for you to wed,” she interrupted. “I even granted you fifteen years to grow accustomed to him. I thought it would be cruel, then, to force my daughter into marriage with a stranger, but I now see that would have been best.”

“Mother…”

“After all I’ve done for you, after everything your father and I have done for you,” she turned towards him, seeking his support, but he merely shrunk under her piercing gaze. “Is this how you repay us? Such grievous betrayal…”

A storm of conflicting emotions roiled within you—anger, guilt, fear—but none of them were for your mother. “It is not about you!” You shouted, catching her off guard. She did nothing but stare back; mouth agape; never before had you raised your voice to her. “It was never about you.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she was choking on her next words, before her eyes narrowed. “I never held her in good favor, I’ve always been wary of her influence on you.”

“Pardon?”

“That wretched friend of yours, she has corrupted you. Brought you to the ways of this unnatural lifestyle…”

“It was not her doing,” you snapped. “And we are not friends!”

“How are you not ashamed to speak such words?” She exclaimed, her face twisted with a frenzied fury you were unfamiliar with. “How are you not as abashed as I am? My daughter. Princess of Azarenth. Consorting with her betrothed’s sister, and at her own engagement party no less!”

You hung your head, not ashamed of your love for Kit, but at having been discovered. She noticed your change in bearing and sighed, casting her eyes to your father as she wrestled with her thoughts. “Perhaps… perhaps Airk could still agree to marry you. You were quite wine-sodded tonight, yes? As was Kit? If we offered that as an excuse, and an apology, of course…”

“I do not intend to wed Airk, Mother,” you confessed, your gaze still lowered.

That made her freeze. A tense silence hung in the air before your father’s voice broke it, his tone cautious and uncertain. “Princess… do you mean to say… you intend to wed Kit?”

“Of course not,” you replied; though the idea was compelling, you knew it wasn’t feasible. “I do not intend to stay here at all. And neither does Kit.”

Your parents' faces twisted in confusion, and your pulse quickened as the weight of your words settled over them. As you stared back at them silently, defiantly, their expressions slowly shifted to terror, despair, and… fear?

“Darling…” your mother hesitated, her eyes wide with panic. She displayed a vulnerability you had never seen before in your usually imperturbable mother, and it filled you with unease. “You must stay and marry Prince Airk. We need our alliance with Tir Asleen!”

“Why?” You demanded. “There are many kingdoms with which we could ally, some where I wouldn’t need to marry at all! What could Tir Asleen provide that is such a necessity?”

As your mother stammered, desperate to find the right words, she turned to your father for help, but alas, he tucked his head like a turtle retreating back into its shell. She sighed. “Princess… Azarenth is penniless.”

“Pardon?” You exclaimed, shocked. “Penniless?”

She nodded. “As a poet without a patron. Fifteen years ago, Queen Sorsha agreed to offer financial aid in return for your engagement to her heir.”

You looked to your father for any sign of jest, but his eyes softened only with pity. “Without your betrothal, our union will be severed, and our people will surely starve.”

The world seemed to crash down upon you as everything suddenly made sense—your parents’ insistence on abiding with Airk, how they always seemed to sycophantize with him and Sorsha, the size of Azarenth and how it lacked resources compared to Tir Asleen, how you always seemed to visit the twins and rarely the other way around, your mother’s dress, and how she was so importunate about your appearance, insisting that you look as wealthy as possible.

Your head swam, feeling as if the floor were slipping from underneath you. You pushed past your parents and collapsed onto one of the wooden benches. “Impoverished…” you whispered to yourself, contemplating where your priorities truly lay—your loyalty to your people, or your loyalty to Kit…

It didn’t take long for the Tir Asleen ballroom to clear, but if inquired, Sorsha would swear she spent years of her life stationed near the doorway, cheeks afire as she bid farewell to each scattering guest. The King of Galladoorn barely paid her any mind as he stormed off to his guest chamber, Graydon in tow, both visages aglow for varying reasons.

While his mother busied herself with mending the falloutl, Airk moved his sister to a nearby table, handing her a goblet of water to dilute the alcohol in her stomach. Kit groaned as she sipped from the goblet. Her head pounded; even while seated the room still seemed to spin. She lazily tugged at her corset, its constriction suddenly becoming too much for her to bear.

Airk sighed, reaching back to relieve his twin of the restricting garment. “I must say, I’m intrigued to see how you plan to explain this,” he whispered as he gently undid the laces. “I haven’t seen Mother so enraged since she caught me reading the lewd literature as a lad.”

Though the corset was loosened, Kit still felt her stomach clench as she glanced at her mother. Sorsha’s calmness, though eerie, was intensified by her flushed face, as crimson as her gown. As soon as the last guest departed and Sorsha closed the ballroom doors, the atmosphere shifted to one of unease. Airk noticed immediately, and busied himself with clearing tables, determined to stay out of his mother’s line of fire. Kit gulped as her mother approached, the dread forcing her mind out of its drunken haze.

“I’m not sure why I’m surprised,” Sorsha began, her expression stoic. “Twenty-one years I’ve endured your antics. I once thought it was mere childish theatrics, that you’d surely mature beyond it, but it seems I was mistaken.”

Kit also remained expressionless as she continued to sip from her goblet. She was used to being scolded, berated by her mother, to the point that it had lost its sting long ago.

Sorsha, however, was far from finished. “I just never imagined my own daughter would go as far as to make a mockery of her own kingdom, and for what? To thwart a betrothal? To evade your royal responsibilities?”

Her voice grew louder with each sentence. Kit groaned, clutching the side of her still-throbbing skull.

Sorsha knelt to her daughter’s level until Kit could feel her breath warming her face. “Goblet’s ache? You should give thanks to the gods above for your intoxication tonight,” she continued. “Without wine’s influence, the inquisition would surely have your head after your misdeed this evening!”

Kit’s earlier dread settled like a pit in her stomach at her mother’s words. Sorsha was right; in her lustful, wine-soaked stupor, she had risked not only a scandal, but possibly your lives as well.

Nausea bubbled inside her; she clutched her stomach, desperately fighting back the bile that threatened to rise. Airk quickly noticed his sister’s disposition, and rushed over after grabbing a maid’s bucket off a nearby table.

Sorsha scoffed at her son’s compassion, watching in disbelief as he held Kit’s head over the bucket. “Honestly Kit, did you ever stop to consider how your brother might feel about all this? If I were him, I’d leave you to wallow in your own excretion.”

Upon being mentioned, Airk’s head lifted to look at his mother. As betrayed as he knew he should have felt, as shocked as he was to learn his intended’s paramour turn out to be his own sister, he couldn’t deny, he had been keeping his own secrets. And if Kit’s was so harshly exposed against her will, perhaps alluding to his own could alleviate her burden. “I care little, mother…”

His words grabbed Sorsha’s attention, drawing it away from Kit momentarily. “How can you not?”

“I don't love the princess,” he admitted. “And she doesn't love me.”

Sorsha merely waved off his confession as if she were flicking away dust. “Marriage isn’t about love, Airk! Few engagements begin with love, you learn to love!”

“I have been in the princess’s company for fifteen years,” he argued, beginning to raise his voice before using her own choices against her. “I have not grown to love her, and you and father’s union was not arranged!”

“I married a reckless man because I was ‘in love’ with him, and look where that got me! I ruled a kingdom alone while raising two children, and he’s dead in a ditch somewhere in Nockmaar!”

“That’s where I shall be, too,” Kit interjected.

The raspy sound of her voice took Airk and Sorsha by surprise. They slowly turned to face her. “Kit…” Sorsha began. “What do you mean, that’s where you shall be?”

Kit glanced up from her bucket, her eyes red and watery. “Nockmaar,” she gurgled. “The princess… we’re not staying…”

Both Airk and Sorsha’s jaws dropped in horror at Kit’s remark. Airk was the first to speak. “Kit, you’re not serious…”

“Nockmaar?!” Sorsha cried. “B-but your father… and the Wyrm…”

“Safer than here…” Kit muttered, dropping her face back towards the bucket.

It was Sorsha’s turn for her head to spin; visions of the dire fates that might befall her daughter danced in her head—nightmarish scenarios her mother had long foreseen. She could practically taste her own heartbeat; she knew her daughter better than most, and recognized her obstinacy derived from her father. When Kit had her mind set on something, there was no stopping her, regardless of the peril; Kit would willingly risk everything—even her own life—if it meant being with her beloved.

Without another word, Sorsha turned on her heel and exited the ballroom, leaving her twins behind as the doors shut behind her.

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