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#Scarlet's secret room
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Gajeel: ... --- .-. .-. -.--
Erza: What's that?
Gajeel: Remorse code.
Erza: I'm even angrier now.
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henrikvanderhussy · 10 months
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something I never realized before is that Nancy is apparently going to stay in a hotel for the entire length of her internship
this is a summer internship (presumably) and there are like 20 colleges in DC, all that have students on year-long leases who are going elsewhere for the summer. c’mon girl, get a sublet.
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touhoutunes · 5 months
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Title: 圧迫密室冥響 (Pressure Locked Secret Room)
Arrangement: Eastern Scrapping Machine Orchestra
Album: EOSD01
Circles: ESMO & THI
Original: Locked Girl ~ The Girl’s Secret Room
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zeldasminion · 1 year
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youtube
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oktaviaslabyrinth · 2 years
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Locked Girl ~ The Girl’s Secret Room // Touhou Koumakyou: The Embodiment of Scarlet Devil (2002)
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inky-goddess · 10 months
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Make a playlist with me part 2
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valeskafics · 11 days
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"Love Bites" - Alpha!Rafe Cameron x Omega!Reader
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a/n: a request from @echos-muses for rafe x sarah's bff!reader. i added in a/b/o bc i'm a whore 🩷
Summary: Rafe is in for a pleasant surprise when you come back to the OBX for the Tanneyhill Halloween rager... Now an omega.
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, alcohol consumption, a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, creampie, oral f receiving, fingering, overstim, pussy slapping, dom!rafe, innocence kink ig?, light choking hehe
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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There was always something about you that drew Rafe’s attention - Sarah’s sweet and unassuming best friend. While Sarah tended to be the life of the party, you were content to let her shine while you faded into the background, trying not to draw any attention to yourself. Rafe wonders how you’ve been able to fly under the radar for so long. After all, it’s no secret that you’re a knockout. He supposes it’s because you stay so quiet, like a little mouse, and keep to yourself for the most part. Hell, if you weren’t his little sister’s best friend, chances are he never would’ve even noticed you at school.
This makes it all the better for him, of course. No competition when it comes to you. He always figured he’d sow his wild oats, fuck his way through college, and then settle down with a nice girl like you. Sure, you’re not an omega, but presentation doesn’t mean everything, right? He can knot all the omegas he needs and satisfy his urges. And then? He can have you. His pretty little beta.
So, he puts you out of his mind as best as he can, focusing on the omegas who serve his immediate purposes. But, no matter how hard he tries to do that, you’re the face he imagines when he’s fucking them, wondering what sort of noises you’ll make, how your soft, warm body will feel under his own. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend they’re you, but the voice is never right, or the feel of their skin is off. It’s never right.
It’s a shame that you’re a beta, Rafe thinks that every day. A shy little thing like you would’ve made the perfect omega. God, he can see you right now, laying underneath him, taking his cock, begging him to fill you up with his knot, give you his pups. Rafe lets out a low groan, pulling out of the omega he was balls deep in, spilling himself on her back before abruptly dismissing her from his room. He grabs his phone to check his texts and is surprised to see a message from none other than his sister, asking him if he can keep an eye out for you at the party tonight just until she gets there since she’s running late.
Well, that works out for him perfectly, truth be told. The Tanneyhill parties can get a bit wild, so he doesn’t blame Sarah for wanting him to look out for you. After all, you’re the only person Rafe has ever shown genuine care toward other than Wheezie. Sarah always assumed it was brotherly affection, that he saw you as the least annoying of her friends. But it was so much more. Rafe comes across as your stereotypical alpha, but there’s more to him than that. That’s why he knows you’d be perfect for him.
Tonight, he’s finally going to make his move on you, his sweet little beta. You’re back from your fancy new college on the mainland - Brown, he believes, for the annual Tanneyhill Halloween rager. Sarah’s kept him apprised of your whereabouts so that he can look after you accordingly. Rafe can almost see you in his mind’s eye, sitting with Scarlet or one of the other girls near the pool as you always did at parties. He wonders what you’re dressing up as this year. Probably something low key as always. And he wonders If you look the same.
Guests start filling the mansion fairly quickly, music blaring, but Rafe is a man on a mission. He ignores Sophia, the latest omega he’s been fucking, letting her chatter on mindlessly while he waits for you to show up. She’s dressed as a cat, and honestly? He thinks her costume is ass.
As he stands there, trying to tune her out, eyes roaming over the sea of teens and twenty-somethings that have filled up his house dressed in their Halloween best, it hits him. A scent so sweet that it almost has his mouth watering. What the fuck is that? It’s an omega, but fuck, he’s never smelled this one before. That’s when he realizes who it is that’s just walked through the door.
You. Standing there in a little pink sundress, looking around nervously like a little lamb about to enter a wolf’s den. You’re even dressed for the part. A frilly red gingham dress and a crimson hood. Little Red Riding Hood. Is it just ironic that Rafe has dressed as a werewolf for Halloween or is it fate? He isn’t entirely sure himself. But God, your fucking scent. He can feel his entire body heat up at the sight of you, that innocent smile on your face as you greet some of your school friends, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a soda.
But this doesn’t make sense? You’re a beta… Why do you smell so fucking good? Why is his head spinning, his feet carrying him over to you before his brain can catch up? Why can he feel desire building in him, the likes of which he’s never felt before? Fuck, if this continues, his rut is going to start early, if it hasn’t already.
Rafe rests a hand on your shoulder, smirking to himself at the way you freeze at his touch. You slowly turn around, looking up at him, those innocent wide eyes of yours just as pretty as he remembers them.
“Oh, hi, Rafe,” you say in that gentle voice of yours, giving him a shy smile, “It’s good to see you.”
“You too good to give me a hug or something, little one?” Rafe teases, using the nickname he’s had for you for years now.
You quickly wrap your arms around his waist, giving him a hug. He wonders if you notice the way he buries his face in the crook of your neck, scenting you. Fuck, you’re like… Vanilla and spun sugar and honey… You’ve gotta be about to go into heat. Your scent is so fucking strong. It’s almost cloying, but not quite. It’s just sweet enough to drive him insane, to make him wonder if his presence is making the slick pool between your thighs under what is no doubt a flimsy pair of panties that match with that slutty little costume. He’s never seen you dressed like this.
“Sarah pick your costume?”
You nod, glancing around a bit nervously, “Yeah, she said I could only go as Lucy so many times before it became sad.”
He chuckles, moving his hands to rest on your waist. He can sense your surprise, practically hear the way your heart begins to pound, blood pumping through your veins. He’s never been this physical with you. He’s always kept a safe distance. Except he can’t anymore.
“How long since you presented? It happen when you were at Brown?”
You nod slowly, taking a sip of your drink, avoiding his gaze, “Uh huh. My mom had to fly up. It was a really late presentation so they did some tests at the hospital and stuff, but everything’s normal I guess.”
Rafe nods, giving your waist a gentle comforting squeeze, making you gasp softly, “Damn, bet it freaked you out pretty bad, huh?”
“Kinda,” you admit, “But luckily I’ve got really good suppressants and stuff. Like, my heat’s pretty close but I don’t think anyone can tell.”
Rafe can tell. God, he can tell. And judging by the gaze of some of the other alphas at the party, they can tell too. He lets out a quiet laugh, leaning in to whisper in your ear.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I picked up your scent the minute you walked in.”
Your eyes go wide and you clap your hand over your mouth, “Shit…”
The innocence in your expression so tantalizing he almost wants to reach out and take it from you, claim you in front of everyone at this fucking party, dig his teeth into your claiming gland and show them all you belong to him. But, he resists. He’s got to play this right if he wants to keep you. He pulls back to brush your hair off your face, a teasing grin playing on his lips at your frantic rambling that you need to go home but don’t have a ride. You look so adorably helpless without your friend to protect you.
“Why don’t you come up to my room, huh? We can wait till Sarah gets here and then she’ll be able to take you home.”
“But you’ll miss the party…” You trail off, looking at him concerned, “I don’t wanna ruin your night, Rafe-”
“You won’t, little ‘mega,” he smirks, taking your hand in his own, reveling in the feeling of your smooth palm against his, “Let’s get upstairs before one of these big bad wolves tries to hunt you down, Little Red.”
You giggle at his stupid joke, giving him a burst of confidence as you follow after him. He can feel the jealous stares of his fellow alphas, the omegas annoyed that you’ve managed to capture his attention. You’re easily the tastiest little thing at this party and Rafe has every intention of eating you right up.
“You wanna take that little hood off?” He teases, watching as you look around his bedroom curiously, the way you startle when the door shuts making him want to tease you even more, “Don’t be afraid, little ‘mega. Not gonna hurt you.”
You give him a hesitant smile and do as he says, removing the hood, folding it and placing it neatly at the foot of his bed. You sit down, your body going stiff as he moves to sit beside you, his thigh pressed flush against yours. Rafe can smell your arousal, the slick pooling between your thighs as you press them together desperately. He rests a hand on your thigh, just above where the stockings you wear, squeezing your flesh. The little whimper you let out is enough to set him off. He leans in close again, his nose trailing along your neck as he inhales your scent.
“You smell so good, ‘mega, you know that?” Rafe murmurs, nipping at your throat. He pins you down to the bed, letting out a low groan as you part your legs to accommodate him, your body so soft and pliant beneath his, “You know I want you, don’t you? Even when I thought you were a beta, I wanted you. And now, you come back. My little ‘mega. Did your heat kick in when you saw me, baby?”
You let out a soft gasp as you feel his fingers rubbing at you over the fabric of your lacy panties. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes scrunching shut as you buck your hips up against him, the heel of his hand rubbing against your swollen clit. Rafe watches you, nearly salivating at the way your face twists in pleasure, the scent of your heat pervading the room as he pushes your panties aside and eases two fingers inside you. You’re so fucking tight, so wet… Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life as he begins fucking you with his fingers, watching the way you writhe against him, the way you moan and whine and lean into his touch.
“Is this your first heat, little one?” You nod wordlessly, squirming as he moves his fingers faster and faster, holding your hips in place with his free hand, grinning at the sight of you, hair splayed out against his pillow as he continues, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you through it, ‘mega. Through this one and every one after. You want your alpha’s help, don’t you?”
“My… My alpha?” You repeat breathlessly, letting out a cry as he rubs against your sweet spot.
Rafe moves his fingers faster and faster, watching your tits strain against the fabric of your costume as you breathe heavily, soaking his fingers with your slick, a grin spreading across his face as you practically scream his name. You stare up at him as he licks his fingers clean, your lips parted in awe, eyes hazy with lust.
“Yes, little one. I’m your alpha. And you’re my omega.” Rafe wastes no time moving to sit on his haunches between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them off with an eagerness that surprises even him. He brings them to his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, letting out a low groan. Rafe can tell you’re enjoying it, the way your eyes go wide at his actions, his tongue darting out to taste your panties before he shoves them in his pocket, “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, little one. You gonna let me taste that pretty little pussy?” He snickers when you just lay there, your mouth agape, yelping when he lands a slap on your core, “Well? Use your words, ‘mega. Tell your alpha you want him to taste you.”
“Please, alpha…” You manage to whisper, “Want you to taste me…”
He doesn’t hesitate, dragging his tongue along your slit lazily, never once breaking eye contact with you. Rafe’s gaze holds you captive as he starts drawing lazy circles around your clit, the feeling almost too much for you to bear. In spite of wanting more, you feel your thighs moving together, your back arching up as you squirm away from him. But your alpha isn’t having that. Rafe lets out a low snarl, his grip on your thighs bruising as he pulls you back toward him, burying his tongue inside you, making the lewdest, most obnoxious slurping noises as he laps at your slick folds, eyes still trained on you. Your heels dig into his back as he mouths at you, nuzzling his nose against your clit, working his tongue against you over and over and over.
It doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself, soaking his tongue with your slick, but he just keeps going. He’s had a taste and now he’s addicted to you. So no matter how you squirm or struggle or whine his name, saying that his tongue feels too rough against your overstimulated pussy, he doesn’t care. His mouth moves against you like a man starved, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he keeps licking at you, alternating between long lazy strokes against your cunt and suckling at your pearl. Tears fall from your eyes from how good he’s making you feel, losing yourself as he brings you to your peak once, twice, three times more.
“Need to get you ready to take my knot, ‘mega,” he murmurs, nipping at your inner thigh, “So lay back and take it like a good little girl.”
“Yes, alpha…”
You watch as he moves to sit on his knees, hands quickly undoing his jeans, tugging his torn tee shirt over his head. Rafe knows he did the absolute minimum with his costume, grabbing the two little wolf ears and getting ready to toss them aside. But then, you rest a hand over his, shaking your head.
“Can you keep them on? I…” You shy away under his gaze, giggling slightly, “It’s like… Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf…”
A wicked smile curls on his lips as he nods, leaving them in place. He tugs at his cock, pushing inside you with one quick thrust. You let out a choked gasp, your pussy squeezing around him so tight. He goes into his rut immediately, his mind taken over solely by the thought of claiming you, giving you his knot, filling you up with his cum, watching it leak out of your swollen pussy. Your legs wrap around his waist as his hips piston against yours, his fat cock splitting you open, your lips parted as you mewl his name.
“That’s right, ‘mega, tell me how good your alpha’s making you feel,” he taunts, one hand pinching at your clit, making you squeal, while the other tugs the top of your costume down just enough to free your tits, his eyes going wide with delight as he watches them bounce.
“You, alpha,” you babble mindlessly, “Want your knot, want you to cum inside me, wanna have your pups, oh God…”
“Pussy’s so tight, ‘mega,” Rafe groans, his balls slapping against you, rubbing his fingers against your clit, smacking at it, making you scream his name, “Come for me, little one, come on. I know you can.”
You cry out, spilling yourself on his cock, but he just fucks you through it. His knees rest on either side of your hips now, your legs dangling over his shoulders as he fucks you harder and deeper than before, his mouth meeting yours in a hungry kiss. He devours you completely, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you, his hand wrapped around your throat. Rafe glances downward, smirking slightly at the sight of his cock bulging against your stomach and presses down, making you whine as you reach your peak yet again. His knot fills you and he spills himself inside you with a growl of your name, the two of you falling back against the bed, utterly sated.
“Can I…” Rafe trails off, his hand brushing the hair that’s matted to your forehead away, kissing you gently, “Give you my bite?”
You nod, letting out a breathless whisper, “Please…”
And he does, bonding you to him forever, the feeling of his tongue soothing the bite mark making you whine as you return his bite with one of your own. The two of you cling to each other, waiting for his knot to deflate, the noise from the party still echoing through the hall. But neither of you care. You’re too busy basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.
And when Sarah walks in on the two of you? She can’t even be angry because she’s never seen you so happy.
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selfishdoll · 6 months
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NOW PLAYING…. FANTASIZE
I know what you fantasize about
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TAKUMA INO x SUCCUBUS! READER.
sum: ino, desperate to feel the touch of a woman, seeks out alternative options. which includes, summoning a demon into his house.
cw: ooc characters, modern au (no cursed techniques), lowkey loser ino (i love him), virgin!ino, switch (both of you), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl, praise, pussy-drunk ino, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (on both sides), demons, demon rituals, angst if you squint, porn no plot, chubby reader, gojo is a bit of a dick, etc.
it was so funny looking up rituals for summoning a succubus, i know the person watching my phone activity is concerned. also, does this count for kinktober? idk i’m new around here. but i got this idea while working so…:) hope you enjoy. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.
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Takuma Ino was having a bit of dilemma. It wasn’t anything serious like a sickness or losing his home, rather— it was actually quite silly.
He has never, in his twenty-one years of living, made love to a woman. Or anyone for that matter.
Now he’s been on dates before. Has flirted with woman, hell; even kissed a few. But, it never went farther then that. He wasn’t sure why, it ate him up inside that he didn’t have such experience like his seniors Gojo and Geto, even Nanami. And as much as he’d like to find the root of the problem, Ino refused to ask any of them for some perspective.
The thought alone made him want to curl into a ball and die.
But him being inexperienced wasn’t a secret, given Satoru teased him on it constantly. Much to the younger man’s dismay.
Things really took a turn one night, however, when Gojo said something a little off-putting.
At this point, you should just summon a succubus.
The statement was quickly overshadowed by Geto stating the white-haired male was being rude, along with Nanami agreeing. But in that moment, Takuma Ino wasn’t focused on Gojo’s lack of manners, rather; his mind swarmed with that idea.
Was it possible? Were such creatures real? Could he really summon one?
Ino was desperate. He felt something was lacking inside of him having no experience and all. So, just the thought of a solution like this.. well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?
Which brings him to tonight, the man seated crisscrossed on his bedroom floor; staring down at the pentagram and candles in the middle of the room. He had spent hours before searching the web for summons, deciding on a relatively easy one. Drawing the pentagram took much more time then he wanted it to, along with placing the candles down. It was currently dark out, the moon shining into his already lit bedroom.
Ino pursed his lips, a bout of anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. What if, he messed it up somehow? The thought of dealing with something worse then a succubus scared him much more than never having sex. However, another thought plagued him..
What if it didn’t work? Was it really worth wasting time on some stupid comment Gojo made?
It took a moment for Ino to decide his next choice of action, leaning on his crossed legs as an exasperated sigh escaped him. Moments of silence passed before he rose up, a small fuck it, escaping him. Leaning against his bed, the man glanced at his phone, reading through the remaining steps quickly.
“Okay, blood.. then chant.” Ino gulped softly. Settling his phone back beside him, he reached for the pocket knife off to the side. Flipping it open, he placed the blade against his palm, squeezing the handle of the small weapon. His breathing got heavy for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth— glaring down at his hand. Quickly, Takuma slid the blade across his skin, a sharp hissing escaping him once the wound started to sting. He watched as scarlet red blood slowly bubbled from the cut, breath hitching as the sight.
Ino breathed, lifting his hand over the pentagram and rose petals in the middle; watching droplets of blood slowly fall from his hand, into the pile. His lips moved, softly chanting the spell he had found on the internet, dark eyes glaring at the ritual.
The chant escaped his mouth five more times before he stopped, resting their silently for a moment. Waiting for.. anything, really. A signal, a sign the ritual had worked. That his desperation wasn’t all for not..
That he hadn’t cut his palm for some odd fantasy.
Unfortunately, nothing happened. Nothing, except for the sting of his hand and the one of his dignity. He was such an idiot— taking Gojo’s word at face value instead of as a joke.
Takuma Ino, felt pathetic.
Silently, he pulled his hand back, ignoring the sting of it as he began to collected the dirtied petals. He moved to blow out the candles next, collecting them as well to throw away. Once that was completely he exited his bedroom to his bathroom, coming back with a wet rag shortly after to rub away the pentagram.
Still silent, still completely mad at himself.
That was about five hours ago, Takuma deciding to push the event to the back of his mind and sleep. He couldn’t dwell over his stupidity for too long, he had work in the morning.
Curled up under his blankets, the man slept soundly, face pressed into his pillow. The room was quiet, atmosphere soft, his legs, heavy… heavy. Why were his legs so heavy? The half-asleep man turned, pulling his blankets a bit, thinking it was simply that.
But, no. Ino quickly realized it wasn’t that. Sleep was slowly drifting away, annoyance traveling into his body. Did he accidentally place something on his bed? Did something fall? Such question entered his mind, blinking away sleep as he turned— shutting his bedside lamp on.
Takuma Ino blinked slowly, eyes peering down at.. something, someone. A woman. She was, pretty. Cloaked in warm mocha skin, a form figure will full hips and curves; pudge pushed against the blankets underneath her. Her hair was neat, styled in long braids that rested in curly ends just below her ass.
And from what Takuma could see, she was completely bare.
“Wh—what..” The man stuttered under his breath, slowly pulling his legs from under her body, backing to the headboard of his bed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached over, planting a hand onto her shoulder. “Hey.. uh— miss?” He spoke, watching her stir just a bit. To his horror she turned from laying on her stomach, Ino quickly tossing his blanket in her direction. “Miss— its time to wake up!” Ino spoke again, voice holding much more urgency then it did before.
You slowly stirred from your sleep, blinking and yawning softly. You tilted your head to spot Ino already staring at you, a look of shock and nervousness painting his features. You only smiled, turning once again to rise up on your hands. “Hi..”
Ino gulped the moment your voice hit his ears, range a sickeningly sweet tone, soft; traveling into his mind so easily. He bit his cheek, clenching his pants in his hands. “How did you..get in here? Are you lost?”
You blinked at him for a moment, coming to sit comfortably on the bed, nearly smiling at the way he refused to look at you. Or rather, your body. “I’m not lost.. you summoned me here, right?”
As the words left your mouth, his breath hitched; eyes widening in shock. The ritual, actually worked? He had really summoned one, a succubus? There was no way, this had to be a prank.
“You look human.”
“I look how you want me to look..” You spoke softly, leaning back, sliding your hands down your body. “Or rather, your type.” You grinned, watching a warm red spread across his cheeks. You leaned, crawling up to him until you were far too close for comfort; watching as he sunk into the headboard to gain some space. “But, would you like me to change? Is there something else you wish to see?”
Ino breathed heavily, eyes finally falling from your face and to your body; trained on your soft plump breasts, your thighs, your hips.. everything was just so, perfect. Change? Such a thought would never pass his mind.
His trance was interrupted the moment a pretty giggle escaped you, his entire body stilling the moment your hand rested upon his lower stomach. You pushed up until your mouth was against his ear, speaking lowly;
“Looks like your body answer the question for you..” He hissed softly as your hand breached his black tshirt, gliding your fingers along his vline. You were so close, yet so far from he really wanted you to touch him; his head leaning back as you continued to rub gentle circles into his skin.
“Please..”
“Hm?” You feigned innocence, pulling back to glance at his face. His eyebrows were pinched a little close, eyes closed as he gently bit his lips. The sight was very pretty, you had to admit. “You want me to touch you more?”
“Yes—“ Ino spoke far too quickly, raising his head to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with red, embarrassed out of his mind— but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Please.. please touch me more.”
Your glossed lips curled into a small smile, leaning over so you two were only a breath’s away. “You’re so cute, Ino.” You spoke softly, closing the gap to capture his lips. Slowly, you two enjoyed the other’s mouth, pressing your body against his own. You felt his hand twitched with uncertainty, slowly lifting to gently grasp your waist. You smiled against his lips, gently biting them in response. The moment a soft gasp escaped him, your tongue intruded his mouth, while your hand.. reached into his pants.
His fingers gripped your bare skin as your own traced his shaft, feeling him slowly harden under your touch. You wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pulling him out of his pants and boxers. The man groaned softly as your thumb traced his tip, feeling precum slowly drip from the slit. You pulled back, cooing at the sight of his strained face. How cute..
You leaned over, lips pressed against his neck as you began to drag your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, watching him twitch with each glide across his sensitive tip. You sucked a kiss into his skin, switching around to kiss against his throat; relishing at the gulp you felt under your lips. Your hand quickened around his cock; focusing around his tip, grinning at the way his hips rose up into your hand.
“So cute..” You murmured to yourself, watching him carefully. He felt so sensitive from your touch, gasping out; soft groans escaping him every so often. The hand on your hip was bruising by now, fingertips digging into your skin, holding on for leverage. He’s never felt anything like this; your hand completely differently from his own. You played like him as if you knew his own body more than he did, grazing across secret places he’s never known about.
“O—oh, fuck..”
“You’re close, handsome?” You questioned softly, eyelids lowered as you hand got even faster. The man was bucking up into your hand at this point, fucking it, chasing his release. One he reached easily, lips parted as a husky, prolonged moan escaped his throat. You hummed softly as his warm release coated your fingers, glancing down as your hand slowly came to a stop. You tilted your head with a little simper, traveling down the bed. “You made a mess of yourself, Ino.”
Your voice brought him down from his high, blinking tiredly over at you. To his horror, you were leaning down towards his cock; the man gasping the moment your lips brushed his tip. “F—fuck..” He whined softly, gripping the blanket under him, a stuttered groan escaping him as your tongue traveled up his shaft, collecting his cum. “‘M too sensitive, please—“
Ino’s own pornographic groan interrupted his words the moment you took him into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your warm cavern. He could only lay there, overstimulated whines escaping him as you took him deeper into your mouth, tongue gliding across his cock; allowing his tip to hit the back of your throat.
You bobbed up and down his length, eyes closed and focused on your breath. Your hands resting on his thighs, feeling the muscles shake and clench with each movement of your head. It didn’t take long for the poor man to come again, his voice much louder than before; painting your mouth and throat white. Your moaned around his cock, slowly sucking him dry, feeling his hand press against your shoulder— gasping from the sensitivity. You pulled back slowly, swallowing the rest of his release, eyes peering over at him.
You warmed as his hand traveled to your face, feeling his thumb gently wipe away your mouth. You leaned into his palm, “Did that feel good, Ino?” You questioned sweetly, watching the man nod rather quickly; still breathless. You gently kissed his palm — right above his wound —, slowly traveling up his body, settling on his torso. His hands found your ass, gently caressing the warm skin— clenching when you pressed against his chest lightly.
“You want more, don’t you?” You spoke softly, leaning closely. Your noses brushed, moving in as if to kiss him, only to back away the moment you saw his eyes fluttered. His hand clenched your ass, a small chuckle exiting you as a result. “Use your words..”
Ino breathed sure his cheeks and ears were terribly red. He never imagined his first time would go like this, but, he wasn’t complaining. He glanced into your eyes, “Please.. I—I want to feel you.” He spoke, watching as you moaned softly at his words. He felt accomplished the moment you rose your body, scooting down a bit to hover above his crotch.
Your hand collected his cock, breathing slowly as you lined it up with your entrance. Pressing your knees into the bed, you slowly lowered yourself on his length; feeling his hands grasp your thighs the moment they began to shake. You moaned as he stretched you, velvety walls clenching the deeper he went. Soon, you settled into his lap, pressing your hands against his stomach to still yourself.
“Ar—are you okay?” You glanced up to spot the tinge of worry in his eyes, your cheeks warming at this. You leaned over, kissing his chin.
“Of course.”
Digging your knees into his soft blankets, you rose yourself up until only his tip remained inside— dropping down in one swift motion. The action caused the both of you to moan, his hands clenching your skin; resting his head on his pillows. You hands pressed against his stomach, fucking yourself on his cock; pretty moans escaping your swollen lips.
Ino was holding you so tightly at this point, allowing you to do anything you wanted; trapped under the pleasure you were giving him. Your plush walls clenching him, your hot skin pressed against his own— it was all so much, but he loved every piece. Hazy eyes slowly focused on you, watching work yourself up and down his length, how erotic your expression was.
“Look.. fuck— You’re so pretty.” Ino gasped out, hands traveling to your waist, slowly meeting your thrusts. His hips circled, watching you clench his shirt, pretty babbles of his name escaping you. He wanted to see more of it, needed to. You were far too much, yet he craved it.
A surprised whine escaped you the moment he began to fuck up into you, his feet flat on his bed, holding you tightly on his cock so you could do nothing but take it. The sound of skin on skin contact entered the room, your jumbled noises of pleasure surrounding the space too. Your bodies moved against each other, desperate for release— for the other’s as well.
Repeated fucks escaped you, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck as he rose his hips more; reaching even deeper inside your messy cunt. You held onto him tightly, eyes pinched close as your nails dug into his covered skin. “F—fuck, so close, so close— Ino!”
His breathing was ragged, face stuffed into your neck as he felt his hips began to stutter. “Me.. me too, fuck— can i come inside? Wanna.. fill you up, oh fuck!” Ino’s voice came out in harsh whimpers, thrusts turning desperate, slamming into you as his mind grew cloudy. In the midst he heard your soft pleas for his cum, your pretty whines enough for him— pushing him over the edge. Spilling into your, fucking his seed into you; stuffing you full.
You gasped, eyes rolling back as you came as well; wet walls clenching, milking him of all he’s worth. The two of you panted heavily, his hips slowly falling to the bed as his arms wrapped around your middle. Your fingers curled into his hair, eyes closed as you simply laid on him.
“… Are you leaving now?” His tone was soft, voice scratchy from its previous abuse. You smiled at his words, shaking your head. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
To your surprise his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.
“Good.”
1K notes · View notes
angelshadowsinger · 28 days
Text
Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k
𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐖):
hanahaki!au, TW gore/vomiting (mildly descriptive— it’s bloody petals), unrequited love, themes of depression and lack of self worth, pining (so much pining), & dramaaaaa
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 
When you develop feelings for your best friend, you delude yourself into believing you can ignore them for the rest of your life, if it means you can stay by his side. But once he starts seeing someone else, you discover that if you continue keeping your secret… your time on earth may be cut short. You find yourself with an impossible choice— remove all attachments to the shadowsinger and live, or hold out hope and suffer the consequences. 
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 
This one goes out to all my angst girlies. My ladies who like the feeling of tears crawling onto your pillow, of hurt balling up in your stomach as you wander through a fic. I see you and I feel you, and I cooked this one up special just for you. 
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:
Mates do not exist in the universe that this fic is set in, meaning Elain is not “off limits” to Az, and Cass is single. Additionally, since mates aren’t a thing, marriage/weddings are! 
・ ゜゜・.。 ・ ゜゜・.。・゚゚・.。 ・ ゜゜・.。・゚゚・
ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.
・ ゜゜・.。 ・ ゜゜・.。・゚゚・.。 ・ ゜゜・.。・゚゚・
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The first time it had happened, you had been more confused than anything. 
Azriel had just given Elain a gift for Starfall; a pair of earrings that would glow a warm pink when kissed by the sun’s rays. Her cheeks turned the same color as she admired them, as did the tips of the shadowsinger’s ears. 
Just one smooth petal rested in your palm as you brought your hand back from covering a cough, pink and delicate and beautiful. You thought that maybe it had landed in your palm before you coughed— even if there were no peonies in the vicinity and you hadn’t even seen one in months. Because there was no way that it had come… out of you. 
The second time it happened, confusion became fear and it swiftly took root deep in your stomach. This time, it was a couple of petals, dewey in your hand as you turned away from your friends, shock running through you. 
Azriel and Elain were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the love seat in the living room of the House of Wind, spirits being passed around by everyone and laughter filling the air. They had just shared a look you could infer was meant to be a secret between only them, but you had unfortunately witnessed the action. You could hardly breathe as you quickly hid the evidence of your newfound predicament, dumping the petals into a potted plant beside the mantle. You hoped that you were slick; taking a slow sip from your glass in an attempt to rid your throat of that tight, scratchy feeling even though your body was screaming for you to gulp it down. 
In that moment, you realized that something was wrong with you. It would only take a few more petal-filled fits and two trips to the grand library of Velaris to discover that you were— to put it simply— completely, wholly, and undeniably doomed. It was there, during the early hours of morn and the empty, candle-lit corridors that you learned three things;
You were in love with your best friend, Azriel. 
He was in love with someone else.
And you were going to die. 
— 
Things between you and the shadowsinger hadn’t always been so difficult. 
Your relationship was, for many years, easy and left you feeling light; every conversation and interaction cherished. Initially, the pair of you had become fast friends; the other members of the Inner Circle even remarking on how he was usually a little slower to build relations. Perhaps something of your sense of self, intelligence, and silver-thorned wit had something to do with his initial intrigue. That was the guess Feyre ventured, anyway. 
Once your friendship with the elusive male had blossomed, it was easy to maintain. Though you didn’t see him every day, when he did pay you a visit, the two of you made the most of it. The Inner Circle liked to poke at the pair of you, even going so far as to joke about your relationship that was not a relationship. And you and Azriel took it like champs; never wavering, always keeping it light in good fun. 
But at night when you would crawl into your sheets and close your eyes, sometimes thoughts of him would find you. It was wrong to be thinking of your best friend like this when he so obviously would never feel that way for you, and yet… you pondered how his fingers would feel tracing across your naked back. You wondered what it would be like to melt into his arms at the end of the day, how his heartbeat would sound if it was just inches away from your ear, if you could lay your head on his chest. 
You tried, you really did try to stop the thoughts from coming. But they quickly became more vivid, and more frequent than before. You couldn’t rid him from your mind— couldn’t focus when he came near, couldn’t hold up your end of the witty volley you usually shared because you’d get flustered if you stared at him for too long. Slowly, you had come to realize that the jokes your friends loved to make weren’t just conjecture— they knew all along that something was there. 
It made you wonder if Azriel knew, too. 
He was undeniably one of the smartest males you had come to know— your appraisal of him was sparkling, stellar. But when it came to things regarding emotion— specifically, his own emotions… he tended not to be quite as adept. So you had now landed in this confusion-fogged purgatory. Either your best friend knew you harbored feelings for him and he did not return them whatsoever— acting ignorant of your emotions. Or he didn’t know you were in love with him, didn’t even see a romantic relationship with you as a possibility, and maybe… if he were enlightened, he would realize that he… loved you too. 
It was that very hope that had you holding out for so long. You so desperately wanted to believe that he just wasn’t aware of your feelings— of his— that you smushed your dignity down and continued to uphold your friendship, never revealing that you felt romantically attracted to him. 
But the waiting game, of course, came back to bite you in the ass. Because the moment you realized he had started to see someone else… you knew that you had deluded yourself for months. All those nights that you laid awake, fantasizing about him and how he would proclaim his love to you… they were just fantasies. Nothing of the sort would ever happen. 
Because now, he had Elain. 
Her— the Archeron sister known for her gentle spirit and her striking face. She was quiet, and sweet, and goddamn breathtaking. Of course it had to be her; it couldn’t have been some bitch that would actually be deserving of your hatred. Because he was perfect, why would his choice of life partner be anything but? You couldn’t think of a bad word to say about the woman. 
Elain had always treated you with polite kindness, a sense of regality emanating from her and her ethereal beauty. Though she wasn’t by any means your favorite female, there was nothing she had ever done to justify even a grain of dislike. You couldn’t say your few conversations had been riveting, nor her presence been warm and inviting… but they hadn’t been the opposite either. Your opinion on her was removed, but pleasant. Hell, if you could stand a blow to the ego, you might even admit you were jealous of the looks almost every male gave her when she entered the room. 
The jealousy certainly ramped up once you realized that your beloved shadowsinger was one of those males… and actually, he was the only one she seemed to return interest toward, which of course… was salt in the wound. 
As the weeks dragged on, their supposedly-secret affair began picking up speed. The sight of Azriel’s warm hazel gaze pinned to her made your stomach churn with unease, the petals itching up your throat more and more often. It became easier to just avoid the both of them in general, and with the absence of their presences, it was easier for you to pretend that everything was fine, and that you could handle your worsening condition on your own. 
But of course, that was not the case. 
Because after a few months, the Inner Circle gathered in private quarters above the Night Court Annual Starfall Ball. Thousands celebrated and swirled below you in the ballroom and yet you could only focus on one. It was then that the man who haunted your thoughts stood before the rest of you, pretty Elain tucked under his arm all giddy and shy, and announced they were engaged to be wed.
Warm liquid trickled out from the corner of your mouth, your ears ringing as your vision blurred in two, wide waves cleaving and then melting together again. 
The crisp air felt welcome on your flushed cheeks, cool on your inflamed, ragged lungs. Stars danced above you as they pelted across the sky, and in your haggard state, they seemed to smear into a disorienting and beautiful masterpiece. 
Someone was kneeling in front of you, large wings casting shadows around broad shoulders as they yelled something you couldn’t quite understand. The warm smell of them was comforting and you relaxed slightly, recognizing it was Cassian and slumping as his calloused hands came to hold your biceps.  
The spliced image of him made it too hard to read the words on his lips. You tried to sit up but your body was drained, making it impossible to move. The Illyrian gathered your limp form into his arms and your head lolled to face the ground, finally piecing together what had happened. 
A pile of pink, lush petals glistened up at you against the dark stone of the balcony floor, the light from the full moon sparkling off droplets of deep scarlet. It had happened again… and this time, it was even worse than before. You had had another episode— the evidence of it glaring even in your semi-conscious state. 
“You’re in love with him…,” Cassian said slowly, barely even audible. 
But you heard it— your body trembling with some sick concoction of shame and relief. For so long you had not uttered a whisper of your feelings, never daring to take ownership of them, let alone share them. There were no words that you could muster, nothing sharp or bright for you to make a response. You were just tired. Indescribably tired. Gods, you were so tired, your limbs felt as if they had turned to stone, and you could slumber for a thousand years. 
“This doesn’t make any sense,” the male growled, squeezing your limp form closer to his firm chest. “I swear, he… Gods, this is fucked.” 
You closed your eyes and allowed his body heat to seep into you, finding a small bit of comfort there. Cassian didn’t choose to say anything else as the waves of sickness gradually dissipated, leaving you weak and numb.
“Cass,” you rasped, barely able to get enough air to speak. “I’m scared.” Your head felt as if it was filled with a thick smog— struggling to get enough oxygen as you slowly recovered. 
The General’s brow furrowed in pain at your pitiful confession, gathering you closer to his chest and tucking your head in tight beneath his chin. “I know, sweetheart. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this by yourself, not anymore. I’m here.” Cassian held you so delicately you wanted to cry, guilt pulsing through you as you realized he must have been terrified to have found you in such a sorry state. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise, “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, woe taking root deep in your chest. Now that you had seen Azriel with her— like that, so clearly in love with her, parading their affections out in the open, for anyone and everyone to see as he twirled her around the ballroom earlier… It was too much. Every part of you throbbed in agony, and you were consumed in fresh throes of self-pity. It was completely humiliating to be this debilitated. All because you were in love with your best friend, and he was in love with someone else. 
Cassian scrunched his brow, the planes of his chiseled face settling into solid lines as you regained your bearings. “There’s no need to apologize, Y/n. You didn’t ask for this— how you feel is not your fault. Your body is already punishing you for simply having feelings— don’t let your mind join in on the beating too.”
You nodded, tucking your hands into your chest as he sighed and stood, taking you with him. He lifted you into his embrace with the utmost ease, as though you weighed nothing more than a sheet of paper. Your evening dress fluttered with the movement. If anyone caught sight of you two from far away, perhaps it could be construed as romantic, the way he now held you in his strong arms, strolling away from the party.
“You don’t seem as… freaked out as I thought you would,” you whispered as he walked with lethal quiet. Shadows stood tall above you as you approached the hedged boundary of the estate gardens, cutting into the overwhelming display the falling stars continued to put on. 
Cassian was quiet. 
You took a minute to study his somber expression, trying to read what he was feeling in this moment of recollection. Clearly, he had some experience with this disease before. Otherwise, he would’ve ran you right inside the ball, or to the nearest healer. But he didn’t— instead, he’d wandered into the dark hedges of the grounds, concealing you from prying eyes and ears. As if he understood what you would want most in this moment of shattering vulnerability. 
“I’m not sure why you expect so little of me, little one,” he eventually replied, coming to the center of the area. He perched you beside him on a wrought-iron bench, facing a small fountain whose gentle gurgle drowned out the last hints of the celebration you’d left behind. 
You frowned. Your lungs felt looser— distracted by whatever it was that provided Cassian with experience regarding your dreadful illness. It was nearly enough to forget the bomb that had been dropped on you upstairs just twenty minutes ago. “It’s not that, it’s just—“ you began. Cass shot you a playful look and you sighed, a smile daring at your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Okay I just meant that before this, I’d never heard of this kind of thing…” Your voice trailed off, hand reaching to rest on his before you murmured, “I’m sorry you have.” 
The Illyrian raised a brow and let out a short, hollow laugh. “Oh no— It wasn’t me, I don’t… Well, never that bad anyway. I’ve just seen… how bad it can get. An old friend of mine once had the unfortunate experience of falling ill to this plague centuries ago.”
You nodded and put your hands in your lap, digging a thumb into your palm. “What… happened to them?” 
Cassian closed his lips and sighed, hands bracing his knees. Silence drew out for a long beat before he finally spoke. “He told the one he loved about his ailment. And they told him..,” he trailed off, gaze darting sideways to land on you. You gestured for him to continue, and he did so after a brief pause. “They told him they would never have romantic feelings for him. They asked him to have the procedure. They wanted him to live, and if they couldn’t love him… then that was the only way.”
You shuddered. The very notion of the procedure made your bones ache and your shoulders sag.
“So he did,” Cassian went on, undeterred. “And he survived.” 
Quiet invaded the still air, otherwise only interrupted by the low chirps of crickets in the grass and the muffled party. Cassian decided not to speak any further on the subject, instead content to let a calm silence settle between the pair of you. But somehow, you found yourself talking— despite never having voiced aloud any of these feelings, any of these thoughts. 
“Cass, do you think… I should have the procedure, too?” 
It was a question that was fully weighted— heavy, you already knew, but by the way the Illyrian’s shoulders sagged, the gravity of it all seemed more drastic than before. 
Cassian took his time to form a reply, but when he finally did, it was in a soft and hushed voice. “I am not the one that should be making such calls, Y/n. But I will tell you that my friend… he was never quite the same.” 
You shared a look of understanding with him— he was your friend, and the male you were in love with was his brother. Freshly engaged brother, at that. The consequences of the procedure would certainly crack a deep fracture in the dynamic of your group. If anything, you would probably fade away from everyone, seeing as every one of your memories that the Shadowsinger dwelled in would be tainted— his absence removed entirely. He would not exist to you anymore, and even if that wouldn’t necessarily affect you, oblivious to his existence, everyone around you would not share that same luxury. 
And Azriel would be there, too. He would have to see you and know that you had loved him so intensely, that those feelings were so wholly one-sided, that you had to physically remove him from your mind. All so that your heart could forget him and start anew. Would that bother him? Knowing that you had suffered because you had fallen in love with him, while he would never possibly feel that way for you? Surely that would make him uncomfortable, to be in your presence after that. So ultimately, it would be best to just move away, and start somewhere else— clean slate. Would he even miss you? 
“Sometimes I think about it— the procedure. This disease, it’s a wretched way to live, Cass. It hurts,” you said, voice cracking as emotion welled up in your eyes and throat. “It hurts so fucking bad, I can’t even be around him anymore. Especially not now. Now that he’s…” You trained off, unable to say the words. 
Cassian slid to your side, tucking you underneath a strong arm. The shadow of his wing furled around you from behind, encasing you in a warm, safe space. Tears began to race down your cheeks, gathering at your chin and splattering onto the silken fabric on your lap. You couldn’t stop them— still too drained from the fit from before. All you could do was cry as your friend gathered you closer to him, patting the top of your head with careful strokes, trying his best to comfort you. 
Only once your crying seemed to subside did Cassian offer another solution. “Maybe… you could talk to him.” 
You laughed— a hollow, broken sound. Cassian lips curved up at the sound nonetheless. “I’m simply nowhere near as brave as you, Cass.”  Shaking your head, your gaze focused on the bubbling fountain before you. “Even if I could manage to face him, and confess to him… If he rejected me… I think I’d die on the spot.” 
“Don’t say that,” he said, voice low. 
You bit your lip. “And why not, Cass? There’s a good chance that I could drop dead any time I have one of these fits. That’s just reality.”
“Well fuck that reality,” Cassian spat, wings ruffling.  “I don’t want to live in a world without you, and I sure as hell know Azriel wouldn’t either.”
“Well maybe I don’t wanna live without him!” you yelled. After holding back your emotions for so long, they just kept flooding out after the hole Cassian had punched into the dam that had kept them at bay. “Maybe I’d rather die than lose even one memory with him, maybe I’ll just hold out for as long as I can because I’m too fucking scared to lose him!”
Cassian’s face twisted into agony. “And what of those who love you?” he challenged, voice shaking slightly with emotion. “What about us, what happens when you die, and when the last memories we will have of you were you withering away before our very eyes?! You love him? Do you know what world of pain he will be in when he finds out what happened to you? And then to discover your absolute complacency in the matter?”
A sob escaped you as you felt every word of truth pierce the feeble veil you had called a shield in your attempt at denial. Your friend was right— you couldn’t allow this disease to win, not if that meant hurting everyone you loved in the process. And now that you thought about it— even if you chose to remember him, and let the sickness take its course… what good would those memories do you, when you’d be dead? 
Cassian seemed to realize you had accepted defeat, because he tightened his hold on you and stroked your hair as you cried into his chest. The sadness you felt unfortunately was not alleviated by your tears, but at least… you had come to see that there was only one option forward. 
You had to go through with the procedure.
You had to forget Azriel.
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𝘩𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 <3 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘪𝘤, 𝘚𝘛𝘚𝘗𝘍𝘠~ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦! 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘻𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯~
𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2 & 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯!!
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azrielwingspan · 28 days
Text
A 'TEA' PARTY (AZRIEL X READER)
Summary : The prince of Montesere was a heartthrob with his exceptionally good looks and charismatic words. You were raving about him to the girls but Azriel was having none of it.
Warnings : Nooone
A/N: You guys have no idea how EXCITED I was to write this. This is definitely one of my favourites. Enjoy !
"And he said 'I'll make time for you. Always.' I DIED. LITERALLY DEAD DIED." You said waving your hands animatedly.
The girls oohed and aahed while clutching their drinks. Feyre pretended to swoon, Mor was holding a hand to her heart and Elain went starry eyed. Nesta remained stoic but you could see the hint of a smile gathering at the corner of her lips. You would bet a 100 marks that it was straight out of one of her romance books.
"What's going on ?" heads whipped to the door where Gwyn and Emerie stood holding more snacks.
"Just in time! Get over here. You guys are missing out on top secret information." Mor helped them out with the snacks, sharing a shy look with Emerie.
"The Prince of Montesere is what is going on." Nesta said, a sly smirk on her face.
"Ooo..I've heard he's quite the charmer." Gwyn piped in and everyone nodded their heads enthusiastically.
"We think he has a crush on Y/N." Elaine said making a stupid grin crawl onto your face.
"What the fuck? Details PLEASE." Emerie grabbed the bowl of popcorn placing it on her lap to share with Mor.
A rush of joy consumed you as you looked around the room. All the girls were finally taking some well deserved time off and you were glad that you could spend it with each other.
"Okay." leaning forward as you channeled your inner storyteller. "Sooo...let me just start off by saying he looks DIVINE. Dark hair, dark eyes and don't even get me started on his voice...UGH. I think my ovaries might have exploded."
"Wait hold on." Feyre carried a confused look on her face. "Are we talking about the Prince or our shadowsinger?"
Silence engulfed the room.
Someone snorted and the entire room descended into laughter. Your face heated up. From embarrassment or from laughing you weren't sure of.
"She definitely has a type alright." Nesta said setting off a new round of laughter.
"OKAY LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE---" you shouted over the chaos.
"Don't even try." Mor was clutching her stomach, slightly wincing at the pain.
"OKAY SHUSH. Y/N CONTINUE !" Gwyn came to the rescue and you shot her a grateful smile.
"Anyways as I was saying.." you shot a pointed look at the girls daring them to say something. All of them had shit eating grins on their face.
Emerie and Mor had already finished half the popcorn.
"He showed me around the city and took me to all his favorite spots. It was very---"
"Did you make out?" Emerie interrupted and the girls leaned forward their eyes twinkling in anticipation.
You were about to respond but your face had already betrayed you , turning a scarlet red. Elaine and Mor squealed , almost falling off their seats. Feyre had a wide eyed expression on her face, her drink long forgotten.
"You should have STARTED with that, you idiot !" Emerie shouted, an incredulous look on her face.
"OKAY SHUSH. The most important question. How was it?" Gwyn made everyone settle down again as she awaited your answer.
You'd just opened your mouth to respond when Nesta asked "How big?"
Spluttering in shock, you smacked Nesta's arm. "I didn't sleep with him!" You hissed in a whisper. "We just made out. He is a really good kisser. I'll give him that."
"Tell me what this male is bad at. Why aren't you with him already?" Elain asked taking a sip of her tea.
"Honestly, he's too good to be true but.."
"He isn't a certain someone." Feyre finished for you, eyes softening in understanding. You'd never told the girls about your infatuation with Azriel but they knew. Somehow, they just knew.
You didn't bother denying it and just shrugged nonchalantly. A wave of understanding passed through the room. Almost everyone had been in a similar position before. Sometimes your soul craved another's so violently, it made you blind to anyone else.
"Well..it was fun while it lasted." you said breaking the silence.
"For two days." Emerie laughed softly.
"You should tell Az---" Mor was interrupted by the opening of the door. Seven pairs of eyes focused on Azriel as he stood at the door , looking sheepish.
"Look who's hereeee." Feyre said playfully, a blush rising on Azriels cheeks as he bowed his head.
"Rhys wanted me to grab a book." he muttered softly, edging towards the wall and trying to ignore the six pairs of eyes with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes.
You were just utterly mortified. Did he hear everything?
I put up a sound barrier. Wouldn't want the Illyrian babies snooping around. Feyre's voice echoed in your mind.
You shot her a grateful smile which immediately fell as she shot you a wink. Oh no. She was upto something.
"Az, tell Rhys I'll be there as soon as Y/N finishes telling us about her Prince."
Both you and Azriel stiffened, his back still facing you. Emerie dissolved into a fit of laughter that she was trying to hide behind her palm. Nesta's eyes twinkled at the prospect of messing with Azriel.
"I can't believe you're going to be a princess, Y/N !" Elain played along. You swiped a hand across your throat repeatedly, indicating at them to cut it off.
"He basically professed his love to you already. I don't know what you're waiting for." Nesta said looking like she was ready to plan the imaginary wedding if she had to.
Azriels shadows were growing a little agitated, rapidly bouncing off bookshelves trying to find the damned book.
"If he had wings, I'm sure he would have the biggest---" Mor cut off , finishing her sentence by widening her eyes and looking down.
Emerie choked on her tea, making it go up her nose. Mor rapidly hit her on the back trying to help and stop laughing at the same time. In her urgency to move, she'd knocked over the tea pot spilling hot tea over Gwyn's leggings.
Gwyn stumbled out of her seat fanning her hands at her legs like it would help. Elain grabbed the jug of water and threw it on Gwyn's leggings soaking the carpet beneath her. Feyre who had been about to fill a glass with water for Emerie stared at her empty hand where the jug had been.
Nesta watched the entire scene unfold before her eyes with mild interest , sipping on her tea.
You just stared, absolutely and completely horrified by the turn of events.
A tendril of shadow made its way over to you and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear. You shivered from the sudden coolness and turned your head towards Azriel.
Wearing a cool mask of indifference, he walked out of the room pretending like nothing ever happened.
A/N: AHHHH, this entire thing made me feel some type of way.
Please take a min to leave a comment and let me know if you liked it as much as I did !!
784 notes · View notes
mooishbeam · 8 months
Text
『♡』 Cruel Prince
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♡ featuring: villain!diluc ragnvindr x princess!reader
♡ summary: you are forced to marry the manipulative prince of a faraway kingdom. malicious compliance ensues. wc: 3.2k+
♡ cw/tw: afab, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced orgasm, hate sex, no foreplay, breeding, heavy choking, spanking, face slapping, spit, creampie, hair pulling, rough sex, diluc is mega possessive
notes: I promiseee im gonna come out with shorter fics im so sorry i couldn't help myself the fanart is so good :(( art by eriimyon on twitter <3
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Brilliance freckled through the silk drapes of your extravagant windows and onto your resting face. A silhouette rubs your arm, followed by “You must wake now, Your Grace.” Her amiable tone made your heavy eyes ajar, looking up to see the sweet twinkle of the maid. You sit up and stretch, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Good morning!” you exclaim. She tucks the straggly hairs aside.   
“Good afternoon, you mean?”  
“Oh. Oops.” She shakes her head and hands you a lukewarm meal. This was a frequent occurrence, staying up late to twirl in your room until your feet ached. Fantasizing about the enchanting gambol you would share with your lover. When you eventually collapsed, you would dream of a man whisking you off to dance in a meadow. Being confined to the limited space of the baroque palace only intensified your curiosity. The kingdom your parent's shoulder is fruitful. Lined with riches and grateful civilians, all you know is comfortability. That comfortability bored you.  
“The king would like to speak with you downstairs once you’ve settled” she states. You give an exasperated sigh and flop onto the featherbed. You weren’t looking forward to this meeting. “M’kay. Thanks. Love you.”    
You make your way toward the dining room after breakfast. Almost every painting you skip by is of your older brother. It was no secret that you weren’t the favorite child. Your father wasn’t particularly fond of having a daughter. You slide down the railing of the grand staircase, entering the still air. Even the sound of your tiptoes carries volumes in complete quiet.  
“Did... someone die?” you say, trying to break the ice. Your brother and mother sit across from each other with their heads down, afraid to interrupt the king who sat at the end of the dining table.  
“No. Have a seat (Y/N).” he says, his hand signaling to the multitude of chairs remaining. You take the middle. Your father looks more stressed than usual, crescent shapes embedded between his eyebrows.  
“There is something we have to discuss” he proclaims, interlocking his fingers. “Sure.”  
“There’s been some disputes... between us. And the kingdom of Ragnvindr. Their king has been ill for many years now.”   
“That’s too bad for them” you say, checking out of the conversation. You know of the Ragnvindrs, but you weren’t interested. “It is. However, their commerce is flourishing. The civilians have an excess of resources. They’re the central hub for wine. If we had access to that, we could provide greatly for the public.”  
“Mm, okay.” Your mind darts to unique spots of detail decorating the ceiling.  
“Do you remember talking to Prince Diluc?” It hadn’t jogged your memory until now, but you recall one time the flaming redhead came to the palace a few months ago. You saw him in passing; exchanging few words in light-hearted conversation before he met with your father. You noted the calm scarlet pupils and his attentiveness when you spoke. He seemed amicable until you uncovered the rumors. Whenever your mother invited her friends, the walls would erupt with gossip. You couldn’t help but listen through the door. “- he tried to kill his father!” Your mother declines but another woman chimed in. “People don’t get suddenly ill like that. He must’ve poisoned him! The poor man can’t talk anymore so Prince Diluc runs everything.”  
“He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. Anyone who disagrees with him is beaten. Even death!” you heard the dramatic drawl of another. “Oh please, not with his brother around.” You thought it was funny and went straight to the maid to parrot their pompousness. It wasn’t until his brother died in their home weeks later under “mysterious circumstances”, that you started to take the allegations seriously.  
“He’s shaping out to be an exceptional young man.”  
“I guess. Why are you telling me this?” you ask. Your father sucks in a breath.  
“You are to marry Prince Diluc in a week’s time.” he declares. You freeze, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. Your heart dropped to your stomach.  
“What? Whe- who decided this?”  
“It was a collective decision from me, your mother, and the Ragnvindrs.”  
“No! I didn’t get to decide. You took away my choice!”  
“(Y/N), this will ensure peace for both of our kingdoms. We shall do what’s best for the-”  
“I don’t know who he is. How could you do that to your own daughter, what kind of father marries their child off to a stranger?” Your voice gets increasingly louder. You were too irate to back down. Your father is seething. 
“We will not argue about this-” he mumbles, the veins on his hands bulging from the tightening fists. 
“Do you even know who he is? He killed his own brother, and his people fear his retaliation. He’ll backstab you at any chance if it means more power. He’s using you-”  
“ENOUGH!” Your father slammed his leaden fists on the table, causing a harrowing bang to ring in your ears. All you can do is look at him, shaking, searching for any semblance of hope. He was unwavering.  
“I hate you.” Your defeated voice falls to a murmur, and you stumble to your room in a haze.  
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The next 6 days were vague. You stayed in your room mostly, the maid accompanying you as you cry on and off for hours. Rage burned inside you, it dented furniture and ripped up cushions. You were exhausted and vengeful. An instructor comes by occasionally to teach you for your wedding day, but you find no joy in it.  
You're tranquil in the luxuriant flower garden you once found solace in. A garden you’d never see again after tonight. Suddenly, you hear the gate creak open. Strawberry strands peek behind the sunflowers. It was Diluc. The silence was painful. “Hello.”  
“Hello. I figured it would be considerate to come see you briefly” he returns, grabbing your hand. You catch yourself staring.  
“We are to be married soon.”  
“...Right.”  
“You don’t seem to be happy about this arrangement.”  
“I’m sure you have many requests for your hand in marriage. Why me?”  
“I don’t have a say in it. You don’t either.” That can’t be right, their king is senile you thought.   
“That’s not true. I know what you’re really like.” His eyes narrow into yours. “You could turn this entire kingdom to ash if you willed it.”  
“You know naught of me.”  
“You killed your brother and now you’re after my father, aren’t you?” He’s relaxed despite the accusations.  
“What would you do? As long as we are wedded, you will obey.” You snatch your hand from him.  
“I will do no such thing” you utter, holding your head high. He laughs and lifts your chin with a finger, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.  
“Such a naïve princess, so far beneath me. You will be mine. Act accordingly.” You want to slap that smug look off his face.  
“I’ll be going now. Don’t stay up too late.”  
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Everything about your wedding is opulent. Visitors sport grandiose garments and intricate jewelry, leaving priceless gifts in your celebration. The travel to the kingdom of Ragnvindr was silent, minus the glares you shot to your parents. You disappear the minute you step down the aisle, taking notice of the guests. Faceless people with appropriated smiles and forced words of kindness; a scornful masquerade.  
Your vows are pitiful, and you wear an ingenuine smile for every “aww” in attendance. “I do” is said, and your fate is sealed through a chaste kiss.  
The dance arrived sooner than you thought. The floor was large and elegant, a thousand eyes watching you at the start of the staircase. You almost get stage fright. Diluc waits at the bottom, his gloved hand longing to take yours. You saunter to him. You expected him to be stiff and unprepared, but as you held his hand something changed. He scoops you by the waist with the other and twirls you around, igniting the music. His steps are effortless, bringing you near him and releasing you for another spin. The movements lift you into a different scene, of green pastures and bright blue sky. Only you and Diluc. The tune curled in your ears and whispered radiance. Your stride is loose, guided by the inducing notes and swinging pendant on your neck. Your arms glide past his chest and he steadies you gently in an intimate embrace. Dilucs lips barely hover over your ear.  
“You look stunning.”  
“I know. You look grotesque.” You feel a puff of wind against your ear. Glancing at him, you haven’t paid much attention to his appearance until now. His physique seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble, intentional with each contour. He smelled of musk and bitter vanilla, the warm glow of glittering chandeliers highlighting his rugged features.  
“You like what you see, hmm?” You didn’t reply.  
“Do you like to dance?”  
“It’s not your business.”  
“Well, if I'm right, you can dance here every day if you want. But you must behave.” His honeyed words made you hot, and you looked away. “No. You are my enemy.”  
“Very well, then.” He continued to entrap you, sewing seeds in your brain through the sway of your bodies. You were tangled in a field of thorns, pricked by his fleeting romantic gestures. It confused and enticed you. But the dance came to its end, and reality set in. He leaned down to kiss your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The music resumes its normal pace, motioning people to return to the dance floor.  
The idea of Diluc displaying you like property tests your pettiness; you need his unruffled persona to snap. He watches you dance into the arms of another man, and you’re sure to make eye contact with him. You flash a mischievous smile as you spin through the exuberant crowd, leaving him behind. You thought you lost him. Just then, shade abruptly comes down on you and the nameless man. He turns first, cowering and slinking into the masses. You don’t face the shadow until your face is grabbed by leather and twisted sharply to encounter the reddening face of Diluc.  
“Have you lost your mind?”  
“If I’m beneath you, this shouldn’t bother you, right?” you say, smiling at your ability to break him.  
He grits his teeth. “You are forbidden from interacting with any man.”  
“By whom? Your words mean nothing.” He gets closer to you; a death stare bore into your pleased expression. “If you’re angry, do something.”  
You’ve never been hauled anywhere this fast. He pulled you through the bustling room and up the stairs with absurd force, not turning to you once. You were nearly hovering off the ground from his strength. He opened the sculpted doors leading to his bedroom and pushed you inside. Before you can see him, he pins you between himself and the ornate vanity. His nails stab into the wood the more he waits for your explanation.   
“What happened to your composure?” you taunt.  
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”  
“Not yours.” His lips share space with yours, noses scarcely touching.   
“Sorely mistaken. You belong to me.”  
“Prove it.”   
Carnal lust washed over you. Your lips instantly collide, cracking dams of yearning through sloppy kisses and smacking teeth. His tongue is demanding and seeks entry, but you deny him. He grabs your neck tightly.  
“Open.”  
“Say please.” Diluc pries your lips open with his fingers, playing with the wet mass while he nips your ear. The foreign feeling in your mouth makes your mind numb.  
“Nasty little minx.” he husks, forcing your tongue to stick out before it contacts his. His kisses are deep and primal, holding you close to the point of merging. He’s squeezing your neck occasionally and teasing the dizzying airflow. The fire cascading down his back envelopes you in a slow bleed, tickling your chest and face. His scent surrounds you, exhilarates you. You pierce his bottom lip with your teeth, looking to regain some sense of control and he groans from the feeling. He promptly hoists you off the ground with your back facing the vanity and his hands on your ass. His greed doesn’t stop, plunging and contorting the organ in unreachable places. You taste sprinkles of metallic flavor. The sensation has your knees weak. You push him away, both breathing heavily with a trail of spit between you.   
“This is nothing like the ceremony kiss.”  
“Don’t you want my full honesty?” he rasped. He dips down to your upper thigh, past the slit in your dress. His pointed fangs catch onto your garter, and he slips it off, groping the plush flesh as he lifts your leg up. Your fingers intertwine with his scalp and tug it, earning a harsh bite on your inner thigh. Rough kisses drag up your body until he makes it back to your lips. You tear his button-down open, navigating the solid muscle under the fabric. Light purple marks are left in your wake that decorate his collarbone. Diluc splits your dress down the back and shreds it off you. You're soaked, relishing in the volatile nature beyond the mask.  
He picks you up and hurls you on the bed, following you on top. You wrestle for dominance, entwined in passion. Somehow, Diluc ends up underneath you, your legs on both sides of him. You take this opportunity to pin his wrists and grind on his throbbing length. He lets you have it knowing that he’s stronger than you are. He kicks off his slacks and you pull down his stained boxers. A sudden fear hits you once they’re removed; his slightly curved cock was impossibly long and girthy, precome trickling down the angry tip. You weren’t sure it would fit.  
“You’re just going to gawk at it?” he says, restless from the ache. Nervousness blends in your gut. You wanted him badly, but you had to make him suffer for at least some time. Hovering over it, you slather his tip in your juices and admire the way he bites his lip. You lower your folds onto him, submerging the cockhead and leave it there, stirring your hips with it inside only to pull it out. Diluc is disheveled, star fished, and spread wildly across the sheets as he grunts from each plunge. He had to feel you, to claim you. 
“You want it?”  
“I don’t beg” he says flatly. You roll your eyes, immersing his shaft halfway. He releases a long shaky groan and attempts to buck his hips, but you rise before he can go further. His cock was covered in syrupy fluids from the moments of friction, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. 
“You won’t get anything with that repulsive attitude” you tease, and start moving at a leisurely pace, carefully stretching yourself out.  
“Repulsive, yet using me for your desires?”  
“That’s all you’re good for.” You’re shuddering from the feeling of your walls molding to the bruising size.  
“Then I’ll be sure to satisfy you.” His calloused fingers break out of your sparing clutch and grab your hips, jerking you down to the hilt with a soggy plap. The wind is knocked out of you, shockwaves through your spine as you heaved over trembling. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel aroused by the desperate look he gave you. “Mm good, you’re sucking me so tight.”   
“Shit- slow down-” you plead. He wraps his arms around your hips, arching your back and leaning you forward. “Quiet.” Diluc bends his knees and begins to bully his way into your cunt.  His thrusts are unforgiving, if he wasn’t holding you in place, you’d be airborne. He slips out completely and rams into you so deep it feels like he's burrowing into your stomach; yet you grip him like a vice, hungry for more. You were melting and all you heard was his quick beating heart and the wet squelching clash of your bodies. Diluc shifts to the vanity mirror opposite the bed, entranced by the violent rippling of your ass and sticky strings your puffy vulva left. You’re teeming on an orgasm, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain. 
“I’m gonna come- ah!” His hands move to your ass, striking each side hard enough to welt numerous times. He digs his nails into the searing flesh, savoring it. “Louder, I want everyone to know who owns you” he says and pushes his fingers in your mouth to pull your jaw slack. You deliver, allowing your erotic wails to echo through the halls. “Come for me princess.” His command sends you over the edge and you’re dissolved into pleasure, zeroing in on his guttural moans, the low fuck’s stuttering out of him. Your nails score his chest. He spreads your backside, enjoying the view of your convulsing heat drenching his balls.  
Diluc flips you over on your back before you’re done gathering yourself. He tosses the damp shirt on the floor and reveals the crisp v-line deliciously carved under his sculpted abs. He manhandles you into a pretzel, securing your sore thighs. He puts his hands on yours and pushes them back further. “Fucking filthy, you’re such a mess” he says, smearing his leaking shaft up and down your hypersensitive clit. He quickly engulfs himself in your gooey warmth again and sighs. “You’re beautiful like this.” He’s pounding hard, foreheads touching and breath mixing. You’re both sweating, mascara running down your cheeks and needy moans leaving either of you from addictive ecstasy. His tip licks your sweet spot consistently and your eyes loll back. “That’s it, take my cock like a good wife.” One hand reaches for your throat while the other flicks your clit rapidly. The firm grip dots your vision black, and you pulse from sick delight. He stops occasionally to slap you across your face. It stings, you hate him, but the spasming veins caressing your walls make you question that belief. “Oh my god - look at you” he moans, staring at the shiny white ring forming at the base of his thrusts. Your hands find passage in his thick tresses and guide his attention to you. The coil threatened to snap at any minute. “Gonna carry my baby, then you can never leave.”  
Your blood runs cold. “Huh? Wait-” You try to budge but he’s stronger than you, sweeping the nub faster with ravenous strokes. Electricity consumes your rational thoughts with a thumping finish, cloudy and fluttering. “Ngh- you’ll look so pretty with a belly” Diluc groans and chases his high. His eyes are glossed over, he throws his head back and finally falls apart, creamy ropes coating your insides with his balls flush against you. He pants as if he’s moved mountains and twitches from slow strokes, trying to get his come as deep in you as possible. His thumb presses upon your lips and you instinctively open your mouth. Spit settles on your tongue and he watches you swallow. You taste his kiss right after. When he pulls out, globs of semen dribble out your slit, but he fingers it back inside.   
“Keep it in” he says darkly. He glances at the pendant you’re still wearing—an invaluable heirloom from your parents—and snatches the chain off your neck. In one devastating hurl, he shatters it on the floor. “I’ll make sure you only have me.” 
2K notes · View notes
cyberslvts · 6 months
Text
DEPRIVED || w. maximoff
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Summary: Following the events in Westview, wanda, obsessed and unhinged, becomes determined to get you back.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI smut, oral ( r recieving), enchanted strap (r recieving), blood, consumption of blood, pain kink, slight breeding kink, choking, marking, brief restraints, reader has lowkey lost it,
Pairing: Wanda maximoff x witch!reader
wc: 4.5k
note: Was in the halloween mood and had a craving to write witch reader. Also I apologize for being MIA for a hot minute school has been kicking my ass
In the dimly lit and clandestine lair, you stood amidst a chaotic array of potion bottles, spell books, and mystical artifacts. The air was thick with the scent of arcane ingredients, and the room was bathed in an eerie, pulsating glow emanating from enchanted crystals scattered about. Rows of tall, ancient shelves were lined with tomes containing secrets of the mystical arts.
Your eyes fixated on the ominous pages of the Darkhold stood at the center of the lair, your brows furrowed in concentration. The book seemed to emit an unsettling energy, its dark runes shifting and writhing like a sentient being. Your hands cradled glowing orbs of blue magic, feeling a tingling sensation of power coursing through them.
Your mind crackled with a frenzied electric charge. The relentless grip of sleep deprivation fuels your obsession. The effects of prolonged wakefulness gnawed at your sanity, leaving your thoughts frayed and disjointed. Muscles twitch uncontrollably as if charged by lightning flashing within your wide, bloodshot eyes. Your voice, barely a murmur, subconsciously reciting spells and rituals from the book's ancient pages, the words stumbling from your lips in a fevered trance.
Everything around you seemed louder and more intense than usual as if your senses were on overdrive. It was like your body was a sponge soaking up all the noise and energy in the room.
As you delved deeper into the forbidden knowledge within the Darkhold, a sudden disturbance rippled through the room. The sound of crackling energy filled the air, and a portal of swirling scarlet light materialized before You, Startled, you turned to face the unexpected intrusion.
Emerging from the portal, with a sultry and determined expression, was Wanda Maximoff. Her dark eyes locked onto yours, and she stepped forward with an air of confidence. Despite the anger that still simmered within you, Wanda's presence sent a shiver down their spine.
It felt like seeing a ghost
In the not-so-distant past, you and Wanda Maximoff had been deeply entwined in a passionate and tumultuous love affair Your connection was built on an understanding of each other's innermost desires.
You, a gifted witch in your own right, had always admired Wanda's incredible power. Your initial meeting had been marked by sparks, both figurative and literal, as you recognized kindred spirits in each other. You spent countless nights together, honing your magical skills, exploring the boundaries of your abilities, and indulging in the fiery lust filled passions that burned between you.
But as your love deepened, so did the complexity of your relationship.Wanda's insatiable thirst for power often put her on a dangerous path, seeking forbidden knowledge that few could comprehend. It was during one of her quests for dark magic that everything changed.In a moment of desperation, Wanda cast a spell that trapped you in a false reality—a twisted version of suburban life in Westview. In this artificial world, you lived a mundane existence, blissfully unaware of the magic and powers you once wielded. Your memories were altered, your true identity erased, and Wanda had complete control over your life
For you, it was a nightmare and a dream come true. You oscillated between feelings of betrayal and intense longing. The life she had created for you two was everything you could have ever dreamed of, filled with the perfect haven of your loving family
When the Westview Hex was eventually broken, and you regained your true identity and memories, the rush of emotions was overwhelming. You confronted Wanda, your anger, burned but the love you once shared still lingered beneath the surface. It was a complex and conflicted love, one that was impossible erase
Wanda, haunted by her actions and desperate to atone for her mistakes, fled to find the Darkhold—a powerful and dangerous book of magic that held the key to her quest for the power she would need to reclaim the life that was harshly taken from her.
In an attempt to divert Wanda until they built up the necessary forces to defeat her, Doctor Strange, aware of the dangers that the Darkhold posed, entrusted it to you for safekeeping, knowing that you were one of the few who could resist its seductive pull
At the sight of her, you immediately conjured the dark hold shut, the glowing hues of blue dimmed around you as you lowered yourself to the ground, standing before her.
"Y/n," Wanda purred, stepping out of the portal her voice husky and laced with desire.
Before she could get too close, you crossed your arms in front of your body and threw them outwards. A tendril of blue magic wrapped around her arms and legs, effectively freezing her movements. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?" you demanded, your tone filled with anger.
Wanda smirked, Seemingly amused by your reaction. She could have easily overpowered you, but she wanted you to have your fun. She didn't want to scare you. Not yet, at least.
"Oh, Y/n," she grinned, her eyes never leaving yours. "How I've missed your fiery spirit.”
“You shouldn't be here.”
Wanda's expression grew more serious as she struggled against your magical bonds. "I need the Darkhold, Y/n. It's the only way to undo the chaos I've caused."
Your grip on the magical restraints tightened,and you shot back, "Save your breath, Wanda. Me and you both know you have no intentions of doing that”
Wanda's eyes flashed with a hint of frustration “You’re always so stubborn”
The room crackled with tension as the truth hung in the air. Both of you were harboring secrets, aware of each other's desires and motives
You stepped closer to her your fingers twisting in the air to hold the restraint “I won't ask again, why are you here.”
“I needed to see you” she confessed, her voice husky, her gaze never wavering from yours.
You broke out into a sarcastic smile, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you shook your head in disbelief. The madness that swirled between you and Wanda had reached a fever pitch, and it was clear that this reunion would only further entangle you both in the web of chaos that defined your complex relationship.
“You didn't seem so eager to see me when you left me in Westview” Your voice came out sharper then you intended. obviously still hurt from her actions. The way she had left you was awful. Alone, surrounded by ring of flashing red and blue lights that demanded answers to questions you couldnt even comprehend
Wanda let out an exasperated sigh a sense of guilt building up inside her “I had no other choice y/n. Strange was after me and You would have never gone with me”
The soft flicker of candlelight casted an eerie, shadow on Wanda's face, accentuating the mysterious allure that always seemed to surround her. Her eyes, partially obscured by the dim light, bore into you with a mix of longing and lust. You couldn't help but notice how her figure looked in the low light – the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the seductive curve of her lips as they formed that infuriating smirk. The undeniable attraction that pulsed between you two was like a magnetic force, drawing you together. It was a desire that both thrilled and repulsed you.
“Because you trapped me, you stole my life!” you echoed with a sardonic laugh, your voice tinged with a hint of hysteria. the memories of your past experiences with Wanda had driven you into a state of rage and paranoia, endless days and night spent waiting for her return
“It was the only way to protect you,” she argued back, her conviction unwavering, convinced that she had done what was necessary to shield you from the dangers of the outside world.
Your eye twitched with rage as you denied her allegations vehemently. "You're delusional Wanda, You just wanted to control me.”
Her head dropped to the floor, and her shoulders shook as she let out a menacing chuckle. When her eyes returned to you, they were three times darker, and the room itself seemed to respond to her shifting presence as if the shadows deepened around her
"When will you understand," she whispered, her voice now dripping with an eerie, otherworldly resonance that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if she had tapped into something primal and ancient, a power beyond comprehension.
"I would kill for you, Y/n," her words took on an ominous weight, the air growing heavy with her declaration. "I would rip myself to pieces if it meant keeping you safe," she continued, her breathing growing heavier, each word laced with an intensity that seemed to vibrate through the very walls of the room
Her grin widened, taking on an unsettling edge as if she could see right through you, right into the depths of your soul. The intensity of her gaze was suffocating, and it terrified you to your core.
"And you fucking love that," she hissed, her eyes glinting with a manic fervor that sent a shiver down your spine. “It excites you.”
"Shut up!" You couldn't contain your frustration any longer. With a surge of power, a flash of brilliant blue lit up the room as the magical restraints around Wanda tightened. She gritted her teeth, and a prominent vein bulged on her neck, her struggle against the sudden and intense pressure evident in her clenched jaw and furrowed brow.
"Well, someone has certainly been doing their homework," a deranged expression of pain and excitement glowed on her face. "I wasn't sure how far along you had gotten in the Darkhold, but my god..."
"Oh, for the love of God," you muttered through clenched teeth, your jaw tightening in frustration. as you struggled to maintain your composure in the face of her unsettling revelations. "What kind of deluded fantasies have you come up with now?"
The room seemed to hum with tension, The past and the present collided, and the lines between reality and the pull of the Darkhold blurred your thoughts into a red haze.
"I can feel it. The darkness you've been studying. It's consuming you, just like it did me." The switch in her tone made your blood run cold. Her eyes locked onto yours, searching for a reaction "I've been watching you, Y/n."
For months, Wanda had been studying you, watching you from the shadows, watching your obsession grow with every passing day. She had guided you, manipulated events, all with the intent of drawing you into the same darkness that had overtaken her. But she had to be patient, allowing you to come to it on your own, letting the seductive pull of corruption work its magic until you were entangled in its irresistible web.
“You weren't supposed to read the darkhold, you were only supposed to watch over it” Her voice dripped with a sultry and unhinged desire as she taunted you. “You’re no better than me.”
The consuming darkness of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders, as you recalled the ghastly events of the past few months. At first, you only started studying the Darkhold for research purposes, perhaps trying to understand Wanda, to fathom why she did the things she did. And yet, in the depths of your mind, the Darkhold's whispers grew louder, its promises of untold power and the allure of the forbidden knowledge beginning to take hold. The more you studied it, the more it consumed your thoughts, leaving you with an insatiable hunger for its secrets.
While you were lost in the sea of memories, a beam of red magic shot past the corner of your eye, and before you knew it, you were sent tumbling back to your feet.
You stumbled backward, Adrenaline beginning to course through your veins. Wanda advanced on you with an unsettling mixture of hunger and madness. She threw her head back, and a loud cackle echoed in the room. "Isn't it exhilarating! The power, the temptation. It's irresistible!"
As Wanda closed in on you, you couldn't deny the odd thrill that surged through you. Her presence was overwhelming and a part of you couldn't help but be endlessley drawn to her.
“You're sick.” you spat out, backing away until your back hit your desk. “You’re fucking sick!”
“Sick with love,” she returned with a hint of seductive playfulness
You turned away from her, your hands anchored to the edge of your desk, your shoulders rising to your ears as you tried to fathom how you ended up here, in this twisted dance with the woman who was once the center of your world. The woman who you spent months missing, nights filled with aching longing and days spent wondering where she was, if she was dead or alive.
“Dont you remember our life together” Her tone was soft and convincing “How nice it was”
She came up behind you, her arms wrapping around you, and she smiled when she didn't feel you push them away.
Painful flashes of your memories in Westview flooded into your mind. You remembered your two boys, whom you were equally bonded to. You remembered the endless movie nights and family dinners, waking up and falling asleep next to Wanda every day had become a feeling you grew accustomed to. Those memories were a bittersweet reminder of the life you had shared before everything went awry, and they added to the torment of your current situation.
You remembered how safe and loved you had felt. But it wasn't real. None of it was real. You had told yourself that countless times—nights when everything was too quiet, and the familiar suffocating feeling of loneliness threatened to consume you. You ached to be back in Westview, with your family. But most of all, you yearned to be with Wanda. the memories of what you had shared weighed heavily on your heart.
“I know who you are Y/N,” You could feel her breath against your neck as her hands rubbed mindless patterns down your stomach. “I know what you crave”
A surge of anger suddenly lit up inside you, furious about how she made you feel. Angry that you had spent months alone, going insane with paranoia and the uncertainty of where she was in the world, Angry that she imprisoned you, controlled you, manipulated you. And you liked it. You loved the fire between you, the intense and deranged connection that bound you together. After all of that, she remained the one person who understood you best, the one who endlessly craved and longed for you.
You suddenly spun around and gripped onto the leather edge of her suit dragging her down until her lips roughly met yours.
Wanda's response was immediate, her hunger for you matching your own. Her arms enveloped you, pulling you up until your legs wrapped around her. Her strides were long across the room trying to find the closest surface to hold you up against.
She pressed you against the oak of your bookcase, and you let out a whimper against her lips when you felt the painful bite of your spell book spines digging into your back.
Wanda took attention to this and used her magic to smoothly fuse through the bookcase and into the privacy of your bedroom. Her determination to be with you becoming increasingly evident. She tossed you onto the bed and crawled over you, reconnecting your lips into a searing kiss.
Her tongue wrestled with yours untill you were moaning into each other's mouths. With one hand holding herself up the other slid up and down your thigh, Warm and possessive. With an expert touch, Her lips moved down to your neck, where she immediately began nipping at that spot she knew you loved so much.
Your breaths were starting to become uneven and you through an arm over her neck, Wanting to be closer to her. You felt Wanda smile into your skin, reveling in your neediness
She conjured away the rest of your clothes, leaving you fully exposed infront of her longing gaze. Your body shivered when the textured leather of Wandas suit rubbed up against you, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
Lowering herself down, she pressed her lips to one of your erect nipples, envelopong it in a sensual kiss. Her mouth then tenderly sucked on the sensitive bud while her fingers skillfuklly squeezed and pinched the other. She glanced up at you, her eyes filled with satisfaction as she took in the sight of your blissful expression, eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slightly parted, completely lost in the pleasure she was giving you.
“I want to taste you” she mumbled against your skin, Descending down the mattress, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down your stomach. She kneeled in front of the bed and roughly pulled your legs until they were hanging off.
You could feel her breath on your pussy as she kissed everywhere, purposefully missing the one place you needed it the most.
She gently slide a finger into your hole and let out a low groan when she felt your wet walls immediately suck her in further.
“Still so responsive... you really are mine, aren’t you baby?” she mumbled in between kisses to your thighs, when you didn't respond she nipped at your skin.
“I will never be yours again” your breathed out, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took in
Something twisted inside Wanda at your words and a dark expression overcame her features as her grip on your thighs involuntarily tightened.
“Well see how you feel after this, pretty girl”
The pet's name is spat out like a curse. But you don't miss the way her tongue rolls over the words like she meant it. Like she actually thinks you are pretty. And so, despite the situation your cheeks burn red, and your heart hammers in your chest.
You didn’t get a chance to respond before you felt her roughly slide two fingers into your dripping hole, immediately curling and hitting your sweet spot. A satisfied grin formed on Wanda's face as she watched your head fall back in pleasure.
Unable to wait any longer She dropped her head and replaced her fingers with her tongue, moaning at the taste of you. You glanced down and felt your pussy clench at the erotic sight of Wanda stuffed between your legs.
She opened her mouth wide and immersed her tongue as deep as it could go. Swirling and twisting in all the right places. It had been so long, Too long since she had gotten to taste her girl, the urgency and desperation became evident when she started lapping at you like a ravenous creature.
A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the metal points of her crown pressed into the tender flesh of your thighs. You instinctively squirmed and writhed in an attempt to escape the painful sensation
She only tightened her hold on your thighs keeping them secured to her shoulders “Stay still," she commanded, her voice dripping with desire. "I'm not done yet.”
Your response was reduced to a mere whimper as an overwhelming sensation engulfed you. All of your nerves felt like they were on fire. You couldn't even form a coherent sentence. It all felt too good.
You felt your orgasm build embarrassingly fast, the tight coil in your stomach winding even tighter. It had been an eternity since someone had touched you this expertly—no one living up to the lofty standards Wanda had set.
Her tongue dipped into you and then dragged along your slit until it reached your clit, where she relentlessley started sucking on the hardened bud. Your moans echoed throughout the room As you began to mindlessly grind up into her mouth.
Every roll of your hips sent the sharp material of the crown deeper into your skin. Your mind began to feel fuzzy as it fell into a haze of overwhelming pleasure. Wanda was drunk off the sight of you right now. Fucked-out and completely at her mercy. Her chin was coated in your slick as she shamelessly devoured you.
Her eyes were glued onto your body, taking in the sight of your head thrown back in pleasure, your limbs squirming under her, watching you struggle to fight of your orgasm only encouraged her to go faster.
She pressed her face further into your core. A crimson streak of blood trickled down your thighs and onto her crown. Mingling with your arousal.
“Cum for me baby,” she commanded with a throaty groan, her fingers digging into your thighs. “show me that you’re mine”
You let out a loud moan and your hands flew to the sides of her head, Tangling into the mess of frayed red hair, Wanda's own moans harmonized with vibrations coursing through you, heightening the intensity of your orgasm.
Your hips slowed their pace as the waves of pleasure subsided, leaving your body pulsating with the aftermath of your climax. Breathing heavily, you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes fixated on Wanda who was undeniably captivated by the streams of blood tracing their way down your thigh.
A sinister smirk curved your lips as you taunted “You twisted bitch, you love it when I bleed for you”
Wanda responded with a chilling expression. Without breaking eye contact, She re-wrapped her arm around you. Her fingers possessively digging into your skin. She dragged her tongue over the cut, savoring the metallic taste
Your eyes fluttered shut, The gentle warmth of Wanda's tongue soothed the irritated burn, providing a small measure of comfort. As she rose from between your legs her hand found your throat, gripping it with a firm hold that demanded your attention.
Your eyes reluctantly reopened to meet Wanda's intense gaze. Her lips captured yours in a demanding kiss, and the lingering taste of blood mixed with your arousal coated your taste buds. It was a heady mixture that left you feeling undeniably dirty yet strangely exhilarated.
“You belong to me,” she whispered against your lips, her hand still wrapped around your throat. “You are mine to touch, to pleasure, to mark. Don't you ever forget that.”
You smiled and bit your lip, amused by her sudden possessiveness. Using her magic, she removed the rest of her clothes and waved her hand in front of her hips until a long scarlet dildo attached to a black harness reappeared.
You bit into your lip harder as recognition washed over you. It was your favorite toy, the one that allowed Wanda to intimately feel every inch of your throbbing pussy. You felt yourself clench, Anticipation coursing through your veins.
Still hovering over you, She held the base of the strap and dragged the tip along your slit a low groan emitting from both of your mouths at the contact. You began to grow impatient, arching yourself up as you watched her tease herself.
She finally pushed herself into you, and an unrestrained moan escaped her parted lips as she savored the exquisite sensation of your snug, velvety walls enveloping her. She stilled herself for a moment, allowing you to gradually adjust to the fullness.
“I missed your pussy so much” she groaned out, coming down to press her chest against yours as her hips began to rock into you. The toy curves up and and slides against your insides in the most perfect way, she’s nearly halfway in and you clamp down on her.
“Fuck, you're squeezing me so good.” Wanda leans closer to you, inhaling your scent as one of her hands grips your thigh. She pulls the toy out until just the tip remains inside before roughly snaping her hips forward. You loudly moaned into her ear, digging your nails into her back.
“Harder” you whined, wrapping your legs around her waist and pressing your heels into her back, edging her in deeper. “Please, wanda”
She grinned and started pounding into you harder. Pushing her cock in as deep as it could go. “I knew you were still my slut.”
You could only respond with a breathless call of her name. She further pushes your body into the mattress making you feel even smaller as her strap rams into your pussy. you grip onto her tighter and your moans float all throughout the room, they bounce around the walls and come slamming back into your own ears.
“Yeah, you like being called what you are? Because you're my slut. Mine” Her movements are becoming erratic. The mattress squeaks under you and your headboard slams into the wall with every forceful thrust of her hips. “im never letting you slip away again.”
Your hands claw deep red streaks across her back that move with every flex of her muscles. Her hand grip your ass, grinding you onto her cock as her thrusts begin to lose their rhythem.
She thrusts at an angle that has you seeing white light. Your whole body shook as your orgasm crashed over you. Every nerve was sent into overdrive, no feeling could ever compare to this. Being under Wanda, your limbs tightly bound to her as you fell apart on her cock. It all felt so right
“Fuck, oh fuck, You're gonna make me cum” she grunted, shoving her face into your neck. As she chased her high, tortured with the need to release into your wet heat “Gonna fill this pussy up so good-Fuck!”
Her hips roll into you until she is fully submerged in your pussy. Loud moans and whines fill your ears as you feel thick ropes of her cum paint your insides, filling you to the brim until it splatters on the insides of your thighs. Her hips are still fucking into you and your cunt wraps around her cock pulling her in further.
After she rides out the last bits of her high, her body collapses onto you, pressing you into the mattress. You feel her shaky sighs against your neck, and her body slowly relaxes as you soothingly run your hands through her hair. Just when you think she might have fallen asleep, she abruptly leans up to look down at you.
“You're a fucking nightmare.” you breathlessly whisper
She responds by kissing your lips, her love and obsession intermingling in that stolen moment. You can't help but return the kiss with the same feverish fervor, wrapping your arms around her neck and arching into her.
This new side of you excited wanda to exhilarating heights. Even in the early stages of your relationship, you had always embraced your darker nature, and it was one of the things that had initially drawn her to you, but this newfound level of intensity made her pulse with excitement about your future together, the things you'd do together, the things you'd learn, all the things she would teach you.
You were just so perfect for her, you had always been, and In your bones, you knew you could never be without wanda, it was as if the two of you were eternally connected at your very core.
A smile stretched across your face as she gazed into your eyes. It was clear that your journey into the depths of darkness was far from over.
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Note
Ok! Thanks.
Could you write a story where you and Charles are dating but nobody knows about it because you're a F1 journalist and are afraid to lose your job. On one race, Ferrari fucks him up and you have to interview him after it. You thought he would be mad but instead you saw a sad and disappointed Charles and his eyes and body movement were kinda begging for a kiss and a hug but you knew you couldn't do anything at that moment and your heart couldn't handle seeing him like that. But when you get to the hotel you are all his.
Just Hold Me - Charles Leclerc
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<word count - 1824>
A/N - This is Austin minus the DSQ because I could not handle that OK enjoy!
The media room wasn't fun at the best of times, let alone at the beginning of a race while you waited for the five red lights to go out. But, that didn't matter, since you adored your job. You got to live your dream, whilst travelling all over the world and to the most beautiful countries.
You travelled more in a year than some people did in their entire lives, and that was a privilege that you were unbelievably grateful to have. Whether it be the sunkissed sands of Australia, the glittering Monaco Marina, or the festival feel of Mexico, you were always in a beautiful part of the world. 
It truly was your dream, and you were able to share it with the most unlikely of people. Athletes and celebrities alike didn't tend to like the press or interviewers. Journalists like you were paid to poke into their lives and ask pressing questions on air. 
But, Charles Leclerc had unexpectedly taken quite a liking to the one Sky Sports F1 interviewer who he talked to after every race. Throughout the whole of the 2022 season, he looked forward to those post-race interviews. Yes, last season had been going a lot better than this season, and there were many more positive things to talk about, but he still enjoyed the few moments spent with you. 
During the summer break, Charles had reached out to you after you had run into him in Monaco one day. He offered to do an interview about what he was getting up to over the weeks off, and your journalistic heart couldn't say no. 
The pair of you had met up at a cafe, but no interview was conducted. You spent your time talking and getting to know each other better. You had talked to him numerous times, but only ever for those 5 minutes or less after a race.
He had disguised your next meet up a few days later as another opportunity to actually get your interview done, but it never came into fruition. You saw right through him, but never said anything. You quickly fell head over heels for the dashing driver just like he had for you, but you had agreed to keep your relationship secret. 
It could have put your job in jeopardy, since your boss might think you would ask more favourable questions to Charles, or relinquish honesty in your articles in an effort to make him look good. There was also the added pressure of possibly being asked to write about his personal life, or what he's like behind the scenes just for a few extra clicks on those web articles. 
As you were thinking about him, Charles just so happened to pop up on the screen as they showed him, sat in his car, on pole position. Charles' statistics in regards to him being on pole were less than flattering, but you had every faith in him.
It was times like these, as you watched him in his shining scarlet car, that you wished you could have been sat in the Ferrari garage, just like he had asked you to so many times. 'Just tell them it's for one of your articles or something' Charles would say whenever you declined. 
If you sat in Ferrari one day, you would have to sit in every other garage. Also, there were people out there who would jump to accuse you of dishonest journalism, and that was something you prided yourself on avoiding. Being indicted of being bribed by Ferrari for information was the last thing you needed.
As the race progressed, it was looking more and more dismal. They had tried to put Charles on a one stop, but he was the only one who stuck to it when everyone else had abandoned the spur of the moment idea for longevity on track.
It didn't help that he had been jumped at the start by Lando, but he could have pulled it back if his tyres weren't dying a slow, painful death. He sounded less than impressed when they asked him to let Carlos by, and it wasn't a good sign when he said they should 'Talk after the race'.
To pin the nail in the coffin, they asked him to come in to change the tyres. You couldn't show any emotion, or cheer him on from where you were sitting. You just had to remain silently seething. You couldn't help but chuckle as he yelled that that would 'fuck up his race' and he just wanted to try. 
That was something you admired about Charles. He always tried, even when things were tough like they were right now. When he crossed the line in fifth, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Fifth wasn't bad by any means, but he was hoping for a podium, and so was everyone. 
You had to go and get into position, ready with your microphone in the media pen. Drivers rolled around, one by one, and your heart dropped when you saw Charles walking over. You thought he'd be angry, you thought he'd have that scowl of annoyance on his face. 
But, he just looked downright dejected. He could barely look you in the eyes as he stood there, really not in the mood to answer your questions. "Charles, you had a tough race out there. How were you initially feeling about the one-stop strategy?" You asked as he listened to your voice. 
It was soothing to him in some regards, hearing your voice could lull him into calmness for a short while. However, he wished you weren't asking those goddamn questions right now. "It sounded like a good plan, since George and Lando were on it, but we should have changed when everyone else did," he said, clearly not wanting to elaborate more than necessary. 
"How do you feel about the race as a whole?" You asked, this time he was actually making eye contact with you. As he answered, he just had that glint in his eye that was begging for a hug and a kiss, just any form of comfort that he could get. 
He didn't care that there were people everywhere, he didn't care who saw. He just wanted to fall into your embrace in search of solace. Just getting to touch you would put him at ease somewhat, but he knew it could cost you your job. Resisting the temptation was more difficult than he could have imagined, though. 
You were struggling too. The urge to wrap your arms around him and make the pain go away was becoming unbearable.  He needed you right now, but you weren't able to be there for him like you so desperately wanted to. 
While he answered your final question before George came through, your job didn't seem all that important anymore. If getting to sit in the Ferrari garage every week, and getting to be with him in public meant you lost your job, then so be it. 
Your heart ached for him, and you were struggling to remain a neutral interviewer. It was like it was being ripped out of your chest as you questioned him. Before you could break the facade and embrace him, Charles thanked you and moved on, probably going to have that aforementioned talk with Xavi. 
Later on, you arrived back at the hotel before he did and got changed into more comfortable clothes as you waited for him. After what felt like hours, the door quietly clicked open, and Charles trudged through the room.
Neither of you said a word as you stood from where you were sat on the bed, and walked up to him. He fell into your arms, clasping onto you for dear life. You ran your fingers up and down his spine as you kissed the top of his head, glad to have him with you. 
Charles was just glad to have your arms wrapped around his weary figure, feeling some of his worries melt away slightly. He had you now, and it made the stress and disappointment he felt somewhat bearable. You made a stormy day sunny for him, and his was pleased that he had found someone who could bring him that consolation.  All he wanted to do after that absolute shitbox of a race was crawl into bed, and cuddle with you. "Do you want to order room service for dinner?" You broke the silence, pulling away from him so you could look at his face. 
His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were looking drowsy. They didn't have that usual brightess about them, the glowing joy being replaced by a tired dullness. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled, pressing his face back into the crook of your neck. You weren't too hungry either, so you decided you'd just deal with it. Charles needed you, and nothing was going to take you away from him. "How about you go and have a shower, and then we can just go to bed?" you suggested, as he nodded and hummed in confirmation. 
He reluctantly detached himself from you, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. It was time to play the waiting game one more time, but not for as long. It wasn't often you saw him this melancholy and dismal, but even then he was usually more talkative. 
Then again, he didn't need to talk to tell you how he was feeling. You could read his face and body language like a book, and it was clear he was very upset. The shower turned off, and a few moments later, the bathroom door opened and Charles emerged. 
He clambered into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest. He breathed heavily as he held himself as close to you as he possibly could. 
You hated seeing him like this, and you wished you could unfuck the fuck ups that had happened. Anything to make the pain go away. "It's OK, baby, you did amazing. There was nothing else you could have done," you reassured him, but he didn't respond. 
He simply hid his face from you, holding onto you even tighter. "You can talk to me, you know," you prompted, hoping he would open up. It might have made him feel better. "Tomorrow," he said, and you could just about see his eyes closing. 
"OK, sweetheart, I'm here if you need me. Do you want a water or anything?" You asked, looking down at him. "No, I just want you to stay here," he said, and you were happy to fulfill his request. Having to wait that long to hold him was agonizing, but you were glad to have him in your arms now. 
Maybe one day you'd be able to embrace him in the paddock, or after an interview, but that time wasn't now. Now, Charles needed you, and you would always be there for him.
A/N - Another request ticked off the list! Requests will be probably be taking a bit of time, since I will be writing the two Halloween Specials, but still feel free to drop them! I haven't gotten any Lando or Max ones... So they might be appreciated if you catch my drift. Have a wonderful day/night, and I love you 💖
|masterlist|
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touhoutunes · 5 months
Text
Title: MOVE ON
Arrangement: 鈴丸
Album: NIGHT AIR
Circle: SNUG SPACE
Original: Locked Girl ~ The Girl's Secret Room
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highladyandromeda · 10 days
Text
Shadows of the Heart
Prologue
Azriel x Reader
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Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 
Y/n’s powers are inspired by Scarlet Witch from Marvel. She is a sorceress living in Vallahan, with her family hailing from the night court. 
Word count: 1k-ish
Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, but nothing particularly graphic
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Azriel stood off to the side, quietly observing the cozy scene in the House of Wind's living room. There was Feyre, nestled comfortably on Rhys's lap, her giggles echoing softly as she leaned in to catch his whispered words. In the corner, Amren made an art out of lounging, a smirk playing on her lips as she peered over her wine glass. Cassian had wrapped an arm around Nesta, her head bent together with Gwen and Emerie, engrossed in a lively discussion about their latest read. The ambient buzz of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses filled with Rhys's impressive wine, created a backdrop of contented harmony.
Azriel tried his best to shove aside the twinge of jealousy that crept up on him, watching his brothers and their bliss. He didn't want to feel like just an onlooker, basking in the warmth of their happiness, yet here he was. His mind wandered to Elain, who had opted for an early night. Would her presence have allowed him to drift away from this feeling, to find solace in her gentle smiles and tender gazes? It seemed chasing fae after fae with hearts as bright as the sun was his lot in life. Yearning for a sliver of light in his shadowed existence, a beacon like Elain, or Mor, someone to take him out—that's when he noticed it—his shadows, usually so still, began to stir anxiously around him.
In danger, in danger, they whispered, urgency threading through their murmurs.
In pain. Falling, falling, the ones closest murmured, their voices escalating into a desperate shout.
Springing to his feet, Azriel scanned the room, brushing off the puzzled glances thrown his way. Then, a sharp thud echoed, quickly followed by a cry that cut through the relaxed chatter. In a heartbeat, he was dashing towards the balcony, with Rhys and Cassian hot on his heels, all three propelled by the sudden urgency to uncover the source of the disturbance that had just intruded upon their peaceful evening.
Bursting through the balcony doors, Azriel was met with a scene that defied all expectations. Chaotic runes smeared across the floor in hasty, overlapping strokes forming an intricate magical circle. At its heart lay two figures: a faerie kneeling, her skin so pale it shimmered with almost ethereal light, ebony locks sprawling untidily about her. Her eyes, aglow with an intense crimson, matching the runes surrounding her, pierced through the night. Dark stains marred her robes—wounds, he realized, still seeping blood from her arm and leg. She cradled Mor’s head in her lap, their gazes locking in a moment so profound, that Azriel felt the world around him come to a standstill. He swore he felt his heart stutter, a memory long forgotten trying to urge its way out. Mor, his attention snapped to, was equally pale, her lips tinged a sickly shade of blue.
“What did you do to–” Just as Azriel began, he saw the female look behind him, exclaiming, “Rhys! 
“Y/n?” Rhys ran to her, his hands frantic, unsure of whether to hold her or lean for Mor. 
“Rhys” She began again, her breaths coming out in spurts. She grabbed his hand as he leaned down to hold her, “Poison…she’s been poisoned, needs tonic–”
Barely finishing her sentence, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, Rhys’s hands halting her from hitting the floor. 
“Call for Madja” Rhy yelled. “Mor’s been poisoned and perhaps Y/n as well.”
Before Azriel could react, Cassian stepped up, carefully lifting Mor, while Rhys carried Y/n, both moving swiftly back into the sanctuary of the house.
They found a bedroom with two twin beds, laying one on each. 
Madja, a whirlwind of expertise, raced around both, focusing her skills on stabilizing Mor's precarious state. Meanwhile, Rhys was tasked with a grim duty, pressing down on Y/n's wounds, which despite the salves and a plethora of cloths, continued bleeding relentlessly.
"It's the runes," Amren interjected, her voice slicing through the turmoil like a blade. All eyes, save for Madja's, who momentarily lessened the fervor of her tonic mixing, turned to her.
"She utilized ancient magic," Amren stated, her declaration hanging in the air, dense with implications, yet devoid of further explanation, prompting Rhys to press for clarity.
"And that means?" 
The urgency lacing Rhys's voice caught Azriel off-guard. Who was this female, who seemed so familiar and why was she so important to Rhys? He felt a spark of anger at the way Rhys held her, despite knowing Rhys's heart belonged to Feyre.
"It means she offered her blood as a sacrifice. Likely to transport herself and Mor here. Inspect Mor for runes," Amren directed without pause.
Before Amren's words could fully settle, Madja cut through the sleeves of Mor’s dress, revealing an arm ensnared by crimson runes, mirroring those that marred the balcony. 
It was then that Azriel's senses sharpened, recognizing the scent that pervaded the air—a metallic tang he had initially overlooked in the chaos. Blood. Those runes, those symbols, all wrought from blood. Recollections of the massive circles they had traversed to enter this scene played back in his mind, causing his stomach to churn. It was reflected in Feyre's gasp as she rushed to aid Y/n, while Rhys was overtaken by a wave of nausea.
The room, already tense with fear and uncertainty, was engulfed in a silent horror as Madja's voice, though trembling, broke through the silence. "She's correct. The blood serves as an anchor for Morrigan's soul. The runes must bind Morrigan to..."
"Y/n's," Rhys provided, his voice steady in the thick silence.
"Yes, to Y/n's very essence," Madja concluded. "This means Y/n will continue to suffer, to bleed, until Morrigan shows signs of recovery. In exchange.”
A heavy silence settled over them, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of Madja grinding her herbs, as the gravity of their situation unfolded.
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Author's note: Hi everyone! I’ve been a lurker in the acotar fandom for ages, this is my first time writing, so do let me know what you think. I'm not totally sure how far I want to take this series, but I do have longer chapters planned ahead.
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mamayan · 4 months
Text
★SWEET★
Yandere! Dabi x Fem! Darling
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Secret Santa 2023 Event!
Word Count: 4k+
Welcome to the Secret Santa Event, hosted by @ectologia (thanks for throwing this together ♡)
My Secret Santa is… @wilderuby ♥️ I hope you enjoy your Christmas present even if it’s not really Christmas themed~
cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Yandere Themes • Stalking/BNE • Dubcon • Dabi • PIV • Fingering • Praise/Degradation • Kidnapping • Psychological • Dacryphilia
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It keeps happening.
No matter how many times you’ve visited the local police station, or how often you knock on the door to your neighbor’s home, you keep finding them.
Innocently resting beside your head when you wake up, whether you sleep in your room, the living room, or even your bathroom, is a single red rose.
Never intact either, the delicate scarlet petals singed in one way or another, to the point now it seems to have become an art form. The dark veins running along inside the thin petals blackened until the rose takes on nearly a new color of ashen burgundy.
You went to the heroes, the police, your friends and family, and yet nothing has come about stopping it.
“It is odd but maybe it’s nothing?” Your friends had said, claiming it was seemingly harmless.
How could it truly be though? You locked your doors, all of them, from the front door to your bedroom door to putting padlocks on the windows. You’d awake to everything intact how you left it, not a single thing out of place… except the addition of a single burnt rose.
It was breaking you down mentally and emotionally at this point. Seemingly being haunted by a ghost, faceless and voiceless, no physical form to blame and scream at. You do scream though, after a year of it occurring despite all efforts—even moving to a new home in a different city. No matter what, when you wake up, there’s a rose. Whether you sleep in a hotel, your friend’s home, your parents, even on the damn subway.
There’s always a fucking rose. Every. single. morning.
It’s to the point where you stopped sleeping, staying up to see with your own eyes if you’re truly insane. You blink and it’s just there, even when you search, and search, and search. A rose, a little crispy, rests in front of you without fail.
It was possibly a new method of torture, but soon enough your nervous system no longer perceived it as a threat. You’d awake to the rose, roll over, and start your day. You stopped mentioning it to family and friends, and eventually it became as normal as breathing. You’d place the roses in a vase, comical at this point, and change them out weekly. A few you even preserved, out of sick humor more than actual appreciation. You’d be certain to mention you wanted no roses at your funeral, at least not red ones, and especially not scorched ones.
You became complacent, as you set your keys down upon entrance to your home, to see an entire bouquet of flowers resting on your kitchen counter. Singed red roses, and one singular black rose in the middle… this time there’s a card. A small folded note about the size of your palm, attached to a silken ribbon wrapped around the thin neck of the vase. Condensation slowly slid down the side of the intricate glass, and for some strange reason, your heart felt dread seeping into its core. Your blood felt icy and your farthest appendages chilled as you shakily lifted the delicate paper up. Several seconds ticked by as perspiration dotted your brow before you eventually sighed and unfolded the note.
Ready to come home, doll?
It was motionless in your home. Deathly silent and still but nonetheless your body shook as tears welled up in your eyes while the foreboding words registered with you. You were home, weren’t you? You knew that much. You also knew you’ve never been called the nickname doll a day in your life, at least by no person you knew.
Was it a joke? Your instincts screamed it wasn’t. You did a pathetic job of staying calm, dropping your keys noisily on the floor as you trembled and dropped to pick them up. You’d leave, stay somewhere else tonight and figure it out in the morning—
“Going somewhere?” You hadn’t head even a footstep. You could see in front of you now a pair a beat up leather boots. Dark jeans lazily bunched up around them with a few nicks and tears in the denim fabric. Your eyes continued up until you were staring at a man.
Bright blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, stared down at you. His skin was like patchwork, staples actually pierced through healthy looking flesh while connecting what looked like chard leather to it. His skin you realize after a moment. Some healthy, some burnt, while he stood casually over your crouched form with his hands shoved into the dark trench coat he wore over some ratty band t-shirt. You didn’t watch the news often, hardly ever since your stress was high enough dealing with your own issues, but you knew who this was.
What villain this was.
“Dabi…” you barely even breathed his name, almost inaudible despite your close proximity, but it seemed he heard just fine as a slow forming Cheshire grin spread his lips wide open, revealing his white teeth and sharp canines.
“What’s that doll? Y’look like you’ve seen a ghost, speak up, can’t hear ya down there.”
You were right to feel dread. This was likely the worst scenario possible, one you truly hadn’t even thought of. A notorious villain leaving roses for you? Who’d believe such a ridiculous thing? Even you were struggling to believe it.
“Th-the roses…?”
“Hn? Thought I said speak up.” The waning of his smile shouldn’t have your blood pressure spiking as it did, but you scrambled to speak louder as those violent blue irises blazed.
“Did you—uh, a-are the roses from you?” You slid back, nervous as he stepped forward, eye lids growing heavy as he settled for a smirk on his lips.
“Bingo.” He confirms, not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his laxidazical tone.
You heart hammered against your ribcage, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the bouquet on the counter, mind running faster than a hamster in a wheel. He seems fine just staring at you, expression unreadable besides shallow amusement. He’s giving you time to think, and something in your gut is telling you to tread with caution.
What does it mean to leave roses for over a year for you, every single day? No matter how difficult it was made to do?
Someone in love or someone with a grudge. He doesn’t look the part for either, but the bouquet and strange note having you leaning towards some kind of affection for you. However disturbingly he shows it.
Swallowing thickly, nails scraping on the tile floor, you give a wobbly smile.
“T-they’re very pretty… thank you.”
His eyes briefly widen, head tilting as he observes you with a keener interest than before.
“Yeah? Y’like ‘em, doll?” Doll, that nickname again, you wonder if that’s how he refers to you in his mind. You never likened your appearance to a doll.
You nod with a short jerk, smile still plastered even as your bottom lip wobbles minutely.
“I-I do,” it’s more nerve wracking to be staring up at him from the floor, so you make a show of moving incredibly slow, standing on fawn like legs as you reorient yourself with your own feet again. “You gave me a bouquet this time…” even standing you’re forced to tilt your head back to look at him.
“I did.” He confirms, and the sweat sliding down your spine begins to cool as you shiver. You keep wetting your dry lips, struggling to truly grasp how you’re supposed to get the hell out of this situation.
He seems to visibly enjoy your panic and nervous ticks, watching you pick at your nail bed while he makes you stew in confusion and unanswered questions.
What do you do when the country’s top villain stands in your kitchen? You don’t have a quirk that can compete with him and you sure as hell regret squandering the times your friend encouraged learning some self defense.
He’s not in a hurry it seemed either, leaning a hip against your counter while he continues to observe your every movement. His presence made the space around you appear smaller, like he was sucking the energy from the room.
“Are you…” you look down at your feet, “…going to kill me?”
He snickers, catching your gaze again as it flicks up briefly.
“Nope.” He pops the p with a smile.
You don’t feel relieved.
“Are you going to hurt me?” A better question in all honesty.
“Maybe, probably.” He admits casually, shrugging as if it can’t be helped.
Then the best question for the evening, one still festering in your mind, “Why me?”
The air shifts, the scent of smoke like a campfire, wafting over to you.
“Asked myself that question a lot,” he stands up straight, removing his hands from his pockets. He ignores your flinch, coming closer even as you backed up into the counter. “Asked what the fuck is so special ‘bout you,” he jabs a finger into your chest, eyes flaring as he immediately flattens his palm and lays it over your heart. “To make me like this.”
He smells like campfire and something with chemical undertones, his breath held traces of menthol and tobacoo.
“Y’know what conclusion I came to sweetheart?” The way he said sweetheart was laced with venom.
He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.
“W-what?” You don’t really have an option but to ask. He looks manic, languid expression sharpening into something dark and terrifying as he smiles.
“That it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. That I can do whatever the fuck I want, when I want, how I want. Not you, the heroes, or the shitty cops can do a damn thing to stop me.” He leans back, face melting again into something akin to pure satisfaction.
“Why you? It’s your own fault, doll, should’ve tried harder not to catch my attention, don’t’cha think?” It’s like he’s mocking you, eager to get a rise from you as anger and humiliation burned in your soul.
You shook in rage. Fists clenched at your sides as you urged the tears in your eyes away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry like this.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” He laughs as you bite out the insult, a deep belly laugh, nearly doubling over as if you’d told the funniest joke possible.
“Wrong move,” he fakes at wiping a tear, eyes crinkling at the corners before your scalp is suddenly on fire, a gasp yanked from your lips as you're hauled up and back to the floor. “Said I’d probably hurt ‘ya, didn’t think you’d sass me so early. That’s okay, I’m good at breaking people, fix that mouth real quick.” He murmurs, as if he’s not using your hair like a lead and making the tears you’d fought back so hard earlier fall.
“Hurts!” You grunt, now putting up a decent struggle as you fight back.
He ends that quick with a flick of his palm, blue flames lighting up your darkened kitchen and striking horror into your soul as he waves it around in your face.
“Think I won’t do it ‘cuz I won’t kill ‘ya?” He asks, his eyes matching the flames he produces, filled with a sick sort of glee.
“I’ll make your face look like mine if you keep acting up.” That shuts you down quickly, going limp even as he releases your hair to grip your arm, dragging you through your home with confidence to where everything is, going straight to your bedroom.
“W-wait—! Dabi please, I-I’m sorry,” he stops in your doorway, looking down at you with over-exaggerated sympathy.
“Poor thing,” he coos, no less gentle as he drags you to the bed and pushes you down. It’s a gentle landing, but your panic gives you energy as you try to quickly crawl away. He grips your ankle, his palm heating so quick you hardly realize you’d been burned until you screech, teeth clenched tight as you struggle to even breathe. It hurts so much.
Your will to fight ends as he climbs above you, shrugging off the trench coat and yanking his t-shirt over his head while grinning at you.
“Too early for cryin’ doll, that one won’t even scar.” He looks disappointed by that fact. “Now, I can be nice ‘n sweet if you’ll be good for me…or I can push your fucking face in the mattress and take you like a filthy whore. Pick or I’ll pick for you.” His shift in tone as he tells you to choose how he’s going to rape you instills a strange sort of hopelessness inside you.
He doesn’t care when the water works start up again, rolling his eyes as he watches you weep and tremble like he’s done anything worth crying over yet to you.
“Well babydoll? I’m so fuckin’ hard right now you won’t like the choice I make for you.”
“Sweet…” you’re all curled up like a kitten doused in water beneath him.
He’s unbuckling the belt around his hips, tugging the denim down and his boxers along with it as he grunts.
“C’mere” he all but growls, yanking you up again and pulling at your clothing, quick and efficient in stripping you despite your actions mimicking the nickname he’s given you. Acting like a doll in his embrace as he tosses each article of clothing you wore off to the floor until you were down to your bra and panties. He’s yanking at your bra first, eyes greedily drinking you in as he leaves your top bare finally.
You sniffle pathetically, any attempt at hiding yourself useless as he uses his knees to knock yours open, fitting himself in between as he messily licks two fingers and shoves aside your panties to rub at your folds.
“Hgn!” Your eyes open wide as he crassly works two fingers into your dry cunt, his saliva barely enough to grant him access to the tight confines. “D-Dabi—,” your nails are digging into his arms, tearing at a seam of staples and causing a few small trails of blood to stream, but he’s too focused on you to truly mind.
“Y’asked for sweet doll, means you need to relax and let me in,” he explains, like he’s not stretching you open and jabbing his thick digits inside you despite your weak protests and groans of pain.
Your body gives way to the intrusion after a few minutes, adrenaline fading and leaving you almost exhausted as your cunt lubricates itself to ease his passage.
“There ‘ya go,” he murmurs almost hoarsely, letting you go when he sees you’re being obedient enough and using that freed hand to grip his leaking cock.
Your eyes track his movement, watching him grasp the thick appendage hanging heavy between his legs.
You note before even his size the piercings, not just one or two but a multitude lined his cock like a weapon more than a sexual organ.
Dabi notes the hitch in your breath and where your eyes lay, proudly running his thumb over the ladder of piercings up the spine of his shaft to the tip where two small stainless steel balls rested.
“Scared?” He teases, relaxing himself as he jerks his cock and relieves a little of the ache which had been building in his balls. Curling his fingers up, you gasp in surprise at the pleasant feeling which accompanies the action.
“Nah, you ain’t scared, doll. Not a coward, y’would’ve run a long time ago but you stayed ‘cuz you like this. You like knowing someone is out there willing to do anything to have you,”
“I don’t—,” he cuts you off with a sharp thrust up, pressing into the rough textured spot along your gooey walls.
“Shh, y’should know I don’t like liars, especially not ones who get exposed by their cunt dripping all over the bed.” His smile is filthy, lecherous gaze running along your sweaty exposed skin as he just keeps hitting that spot inside which makes your toes curl.
“P-please stop, Dabi I can’t—,”
“Still lying?” He asks, more amused than angry as you try your best to twist away from the pleasure now wracking your body.
“How’s this doll? You drop the Dabi bullshit n’say Touya when you’re about to cum, okay? Y’listening?” He stops working himself over, freeing his hand again to tap your cheek and catch your clouded watery gaze.
“Try it out.” He orders softly, sweetly, like he’s trying to be gentle but the way his fingers fuck you is anything but sweet or kind. The loud lewd squelching exactly as he said earlier, a confession to how much your body at least enjoyed his careless attention.
You huff, mouth opening to choke on a moan as he adds another finger, fingers wrapping around his wrist where they attempt to halt the sudden oversensitivity inside you.
If anything he jams his fingers inside you harder.
“T-Touya!” You hope he’ll stop. Hope he ends this strange psychological torture as your stomach coils up tight.
He doesn’t, Dabi merely groans in delight and chuckles over you, leaning down to slot his lips over yours in a kiss as messy as he’s making you down below.
His soft top lip is contrasted by the rough feeling of his bottom, but his kiss is hot and you can taste the menthol now. His scent is strong, and you catch a hint of his natural odor beneath the smoke and tobacco. Your cries are silenced by his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you open to complain. You shiver as you feel the drag of a piercing on his tongue, the light touch somehow more erotic. He parts sloppily, saliva connecting your lips for a moment before you flinch as he spits in your mouth.
“Open your fucking mouth.” The tone he uses and language are harsh, and you tearily do as instructed. “Stick out your tongue.” He murmurs a bit more nicely this time, humming in approval as you obey with shaky hesitation.
You won’t hesitate soon enough, if he has anything to do about it. He’ll make his words gospel in your cute brain and have you eager to listen to his every command.
Dabi lets his spit hit your tongue slowly, watching you pant like a dog with your tongue out as he brings you closer and closer to your release. The way your walls clamp around his fingers and constrict makes his cock weep to sink inside you already. “Touya—!”
You cum when he finally allows you to swallow, gushing and throwing your head back while he fucks you through it, laughing as you tense up and beg for mercy and try to escape the pleasure he’s delivering relentlessly.
“Good fuckin’ girl, say my name baby, let me hear it.” Dabi nearly loses it himself watching you shatter, eyes wide and wild as he keeps going. “Touya pl-please…hn!” You keen almost like you’re in pain, fingers digging into his shoulders now while your legs kick out.
“Y’asked for sweet, doll, means you get to cum as much as you want tonight.”
That wasn’t what you’d thought it meant, even as you choke and cum again, this time more softly as he slows his furious pace to something manageable now.
Dabi smiles at the fucked out expression you now wear, pliant in his hold as he maneuvers your body, hoisting your legs up and pressing them to your chest as you whimper in protest.
“You can stay nice ‘n pretty like this doll, doing so good f’me.” He’s not very assuring as he murmurs to you while positioning the weapon he’s armored on his cock at your dripping entrance, tapping his tip a few times on your puffy clit as you moan and twitch, view perfect to watch how he slicks himself up. “T-Touya…” he moans as he catches on your entrance only to slip up, eyes looking at your face as he licks his lips and tries again, enjoying the soft warm feeling of rubbing on your cunt.
“Yeah doll? Need somethin’?” He grins, his cock finally breaching that tight ring of muscle that lets him sink into your hot welcoming depths. “Fuck, been dreaming ‘bout this cunt for so long. Y’know how many times I’ve had to just cum on your sleeping face instead of fucking you? All the times I could’ve just woken you up and had you?” He moans, laughing at the horrified and almost strangled look you gave him, his chest vibrating with a laugh as you mewl like a cat in heat when the first row of piercings sinks into you. “Like ‘em baby? Fuckin’ looks like you do, they feel good in your little pussy?” He moans again when you accidentally bare down on him, the tightness increasing painfully as you whine when his piercings dig in too much.
“Easy doll, let me in,” he murmurs, dark hair falling into his face as he braces above you with one arm, lithe muscles taunt as he works his hips a little at a time into you, enthralled with how you fit around him enough not to slam himself inside all at once.
When the top balls of his piercings kiss up against your cervix, you’re ruined, face a mess as you struggle to adjust to the stretch and sensations.
“S’too much, Touya—” you can only cling to him, eyes drawn to where he’s sunk his entire fat cock into your depths, the way your body contorted giving you the best view.
Your words have the opposite effect though, his groan guttural as he drags himself out, drunk on the feeling of your pussy and lost to it.
“Keep sayin’ my fuckin’ name, lemme hear ‘ya scream babydoll,” you go to protest again, when he slams each inch back into you, the ribs along his cock now working in tandem with his thrusts, effectively shutting you up as you squeal and dig your nails into his shoulders for purchase.
Dabi fucks you hard and deep, speed unnecessarily to keep the air from your lungs as each thrust feels like it’s hitting up in your stomach, the pain and pleasure blending until you aren’t sure if it truly hurts or not.
He sets a steady rhythm, watching your body shake each time he lets his hips fall like a hammer, seeing his cock swallowed each time by your greedy cunt until he’s delirious at the sight.
“Pretty fucking slut, look how your pussy takes me.” He’s spewing filth at you, but when it should offend, it instead makes you burn hotter, his name falling from your swollen pouty lips like a chant.
“This cunt want me to breed it? Fill your pussy full until you can’t take anymore?” You shake your head in denial, unable to truly form words anymore as he picks up his pace, fucking you hard enough to make your headboard slam into the wall. Each thrust accompanied by a symphony of wet slapping, his balls tapping your ass each time his groin kisses your own. “Bet it does, huh doll? This greedy little cunt keeps begging for more.” He loves the dichotomy between your sloppy pussy and the way you shake your head. “No? Y’sure doll? Think it does. Don’t like lyin’ baby, remember? You want me to punish you?” You shake your head again, a bit frustrated when he slows, letting you feel all of him inside you like this, his weight keeping you pinned.
“Shakin’ your head ain’t an answer doll, I’ll be nice ‘n give you another chance, but I expect a fucking a verbal answer this time.” He’s like a light switch. Either on or off but much more terrifying when he flips it on, eyes and voice menacing as you cough and answer in a husky voice. You don’t want to test him on the punishment, truly you don’t, as your ankle still fully throbs in the back of your mind as a reminder of what he’s capable of and who he is.
“I-I like h-how you do it now…” he cocks a brow, sinking deep and then pressing even further so you whine and try to push back further into the bed.
“Y’like how I’m fuckin’ you now? That it, doll?” You go to nod before remembering his warning, swallowing thickly and voicing a soft agreement.
“Hmm… then y’oughta say it, right? Tell me how good I’m fuckin’ this pussy.” He growls, bright blue eyes lighting up as you moan, his pace increasing again as you blabber out whatever nonsense you can to satisfy him. Whatever would make him be sweet, because you have a feeling you don’t want him any other way.
“S-so good! Mhn, f-feels so good Touya, pl-please, ah,” he’s being too rough, your eyes watering and tears spilling as he drills into you, but even still you feel yourself close to coming again as those piercings rub perfectly inside you.
Dabi lifts up, letting your legs fall to either side of him as he grips both your hips tight and fucks you more aggressively. Jackhammering into your gummy walls like he’s eager to imprint the shape of his cock inside you, mouth open and brows furrowed while he groans feeling you tense up again, this time around his dick.
“T-Touya—! M’coming, oh fuck—!” You look painfully suprised when you realize how much it all becomes as you cum, the peircings becoming more prominent as you spasm and clamp down on him, eyes rolling back as your vision slightly blurs.
“Yeah y’are doll, fuck, that feel good? Looks like it did.” He chuckles, chest swelling with a deep satisfaction as he fucks you harder despite your weak whines, overstimulated cunt begging for a break despite how he bullies himself inside you.
“Tell me where you want it,” he’s close, panting and overheating even as he nears his end.
“N-not inside…” he laughs at the soft reply, thrusts only getting deeper as he resorts to simply humping into you for friction after you tighten up so much it hurts to go harder.
“Can’t pull out though doll, look how tight you’re gripping my cock.” You aren’t paying attention, mindlessly moaning as he finally gasps and cums, cock twitching deep inside you and filling you up despite your earlier request.
He nearly collapses on you, chest rising and falling quickly as he regains his breath and relaxes on your soft chest for a moment to recouperate.
When he’s caught his breath, he leans up, slowly pulling out and watching his heavy load immediately spill from your hole.
“Tsk,” he uses two fingers to scoop up what dribbled out, stuffing it back into you as you sleepily huff and press a hand against his chest.
You’re helpless to stop him, too exhausted to fight more and figuring it better to let him have his way than risk his wrath right now.
Once he’s satisfied he’d stuffed you back up well enough, Dabi is quick to leave the bed and begin redressing, speaking casually with you despite your lack of answering.
You watch the villain act as if nothing had occurred, face the same smug arrogant grin when you’d first spotted him.
It’s when he returns his attention to you that fear begins to trickle back into your blood stream.
He seems to notice too, smile growing with your apprehension.
“Now doll,” he crosses back to where you’ve sat up and covered yourself with a blanket, weary gaze locked with his.
“Ready to come home?”
Then it’s dark, your vision going out with your consciousness as Dabi catches you in his arms, dragging your limp figure from the bed and into his arms quickly.
He’s kind enough to wrap you in a sheet as he takes your house keys and phone, shoving them in his pocket as he leaves your place with you in his embrace.
He whistles on his way home, a bit eager to see your expression when you wake.
He figures you’ll learn to like your new home once you realize you’re never leaving it.
He even decorated for the season, the tree a little burnt but he’s sure you’ll appreciate the sentiment.
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Dividers/@cafekistune
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