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eternityofend · 22 days

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Another type of milk.

PAIRING: Francis Mosses x Female!Reader ( Slight Doppelganger!Francis Mosses x Reader. )

Requested: Can I request something for Francis, the Milkman? Like the scenario is: Y'all be talking then, they do it under the desk while the reader is working?

MDNI +18, NSFW.

You scroll through your phone, time ticking with each passing second as you get even more bored. Your job as a doorman was nice however the hours needed to work were plenty enough of time for you to wish you had never taken up such a job in the first place.

You hear a tap on the window as you see Francis in front of you, holding a carton of milk in his hands, his movements were sluggish and his eye bags were darker than when you last saw him.

You ignored the concern building in you and tried to find your wallet to pay for the milk you ordered from Francis, keyword: tried. You frantically searched your pockets and the drawers but there was no sign of a leather wallet in all of the places you searched.

Francis stares at you with a blank expression, completely minding his own business as he didn't question the amount of time it took for you to find your wallet.

"Hey.. can I pay you up in a different way?"

Francis raises his eyebrows, skeptical about your request but nods his head; far too kept up with how much time this delivery was taking. He wasn't used to social interaction anyway, he just wanted to get out.

You motion for him to come into your office, opening the gate for him and closing it once he went through.

A few minutes later, Francis knocks on your door and you let him in, he's still holding onto the carton of milk which you help him put on your desk.

"Mmmm.. so what's this different method of payment are you talking about?.." Francis mutters, his voice husky with the tiredness he felt from his job, tone as curious as ever.

You walk up to him, putting your hand on his chest while smiling innocently.

Francis looked at you with a curious expression, gulping as he was nervous about what you were going to do with him.

Francis looked at your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes, trying to distract himself from the weird thoughts he was thinking; perhaps he was watching too much inappropriate stuff, he should limit himself on that.

"Do you live alone?" You asked, knowing well what his answer would be.

Francis tore his gaze away from you, now staring at your wall. "Yes.."

He hears a small laugh come from you, and his body feels tingly with extreme nervousness. Why were you laughing? Did you expect him to have a roommate or something?

"So you have no one to milk you at home then?" You whisper in Francis's ears, watching him tense up as he caved in to your voice and touch.

You saw the way his knees trembled to hold onto his body, cheeks turning redder than the scarlet milk he frequently delivers.

You put a hand on his cheek, making him look at you with a smile on your face. "Let me help you, that's my payment." You utter, watching his eyes widen as he came across a conflicted statement-- not knowing what to choose.

You really didn't have to wait long.

Francis stares up at you, hand on his mouth as he leans against the wall, ears flushing with blush as he attempted to conceal his noises from you, afraid of someone hearing.

You rubbed your shoe against his bulge, looking at him with a mischievous look on your face, wanting to make him cum from a dry orgasm before you fully fuck him.

"Ah~ Hnn~ Ngn~" Francis moans out, his sounds muffled by how hard he was biting on his hand, throwing his head back at how lewd your method to pleasure him was.

His eyes were teary and his cheeks were flushed, he looked as if he already got fucked by you even if you hadn't advanced that fast yet.

You grin, pressing on his erection with the heel of your shoe-- enjoying the way he stuttered, gripping onto your leg with his free hand.

A tap on the window stops you from admiring him longer, and Francis panics. He couldn't run out because it would be suspicious if the visitor were to see someone come from below your desk, he didn't want to spread rumours as well if someone recognized him.

So he just sat there, both hands covering his mouth.

Wait.. what were you doing?

Francis bites onto his hand, heart pulsing as he felt your shoe rub more against his dick, you were crazy! Why were you still continuing?!

You grinned, twirling your hair as you faced a doppelganger of one of the visitors, not even having to check the ID to know it was a doppelganger.

You had to admit, it sure mimicked the resident properly, but if it weren't for the real Francis already being below your desk, you would've let the doppelganger of Francis in, there were barely any differences as well.

"Oh? My appearance..? I don't quite follow.." The doppelganger muttered, trying to keep calm as he felt rage from how fast you figured out he was a doppelganger.

You were not only a pretty doorman but a smart one too, the doppelganger held back on transforming, wanting to see if he could still convince you that he was the real one.

You chuckle at the doppelganger's confused expression, adding a bit more pressure to your shoe as you pressed on Francis's erection, hearing a small moan come out of him.

The doppelganger's eyes widened, looking around as he was confused at where the noise came from.

What a shame, you'd so tease the real Francis using the doppelganger if only you weren't allowed to spread the fact that Doppelgangers existed.

"I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I can let you in."

You rang the DDD and let them handle the situation, completely forgetting about Francis beneath you, trembling at how much pressure he was receiving.

By the time you remembered about him, you were already finished with the doppelganger situation, seeing him all teary and red just from your shoe.

You laugh, lifting his face up as you stop rubbing your shoe against his dick, grinning at him with a new idea in mind.

"Let's start with the milking process now, shall we, Milkman? But first, why don't you eat me out first?"

You catch his flustered expression as he nodded, moving his hands all the way to your thighs as he got rid of your panties.

Francis moves closer to your pussy, licking on it as his eyes widened from the taste, it was much different than the milk he was used to.

You let out a breathy moan, spreading your legs wider as you felt Francis shove his tongue straight into you, eating you out as if he was a man that was starved for years.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you let out a full moan, suddenly closing your thighs around Francis's head, he didn't seem to mind however.

"Shit... you sure know how to eat pussy.." You mumble, biting on your lip as you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his cold wet tongue.

Francis's hooked nose makes you moan as it pressed against your pussy because of how close he was.

You moan, throwing your head back when you feel Francis's tongue licking on your clit, lapping it up as if it was water.

Your grip on his hair tightens, clenching down on his tongue as you orgasmed.

Francis moans beneath you, the vibration running across your entire body making you shake and tremble.

You breathe out, your pussy pulsing while Francis explored your insides, eager to drink up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.

You pull Francis away from your dick, and your pussy twitches at the sight. His eyes are half-lidded, staring at you while his tongue and mouth were filled with your cum.

Francis smiles, and swallows your cum right in front of you, making you bite your lip from how aroused you were.

"We aren't done yet, Milkman." You grin.

But apparently the story is done! I hope you enjoyed the story, this is my second time writing smut :)

#milkman x reader #milkman #francis mosses #Francis #francis mosses x reader #x reader #female reader #reader #x you #you #smut #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #doppelganger francis mosses

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months

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Begin Again

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

Genre: Fluff 😇🎉 (bc i love happiness, ur welcome)

Warnings: misunderstandings, lovesick!James <3

It's not James's fault he's been head over heels in love with you for longer than he can remember. And it's really not his fault either that he's spent years acting like a complete and utter fool just to have a sliver of your attention.

Talking the loudest in any room you're in? Easy.

"Accidentally" flying too close to where you're sitting in the Quidditch stands while he's supposed to be playing just so he can flip around obnoxiously? He's done that over three times now.

So, when he hears you'll be at the Three Broomsticks this evening, it isn't surprising to anyone that he convinces Sirius and Remus to accompany him.

The moment they walk in, their loud demeanor makes everyone turn their heads. It's no secret James, Sirius, and Remus are the handsomest guys in your year — so no one could blame you when you look up too.

Your friend digs her elbow into your side when James sees you looking and struts to your table. You sit up, taking a long sip of your pumpkin juice as James leans in and crosses his arms.

Sirius and Remus stand behind him, amused. "Ladies," James winks, his eyes focused only on you. "What brings you here on this lovely Friday evening?"

You turn your head, avoiding his gaze with a small smile that makes James lose his mind, "Nothing that concerns you, Potter,"

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, unfazed by your bluntness as he motions to your empty glass.

When you stand, James smoothly moves out of the way and you send him a look behind your shoulder. "Mm, no thanks. But if you want you can walk with me to order my own drink," you joke, not thinking he'll actually want to.

But, if James was a puppy, he'd be your puppy. You have him wrapped around your little pinky and the only person who doesn't see it is you.

"Gladly," The boy smirks and his arm brushes yours as he walks next to you. You frown a little but don't say anything. You've never minded James's attention, and you know he's been after you for years now, but still you can't wrap your mind around him being serious about it.

In your mind, the attention was always bound to fade with time, and you wouldn't be caught as the fool who'd fallen for it.

However, as you lean against the bar to order another pumpkin juice and you feel James's eyes glued on you, you start to wonder.

"So, when's the expiration date for this little game?" you ask, looking at him seriously.

James leans against the bar too and completely turns his body to you. "Hmm? What?" he asks with a smile. He tucks the loose strand of hair from in front of your eyes behind you ear, seemingly proud of himself when he can see you clearly again.

"This," you point at him, and then throw your arms up dramatically, "Whatever it is that you're doing."

James just smiles. He's not really catching on as his hand slides closer to yours on the bar counter. "What am I doing?" he whispers, leaning in. He has that look in his eyes, the one that makes your stomach flutter.

You move your hand away from his. You sound exhausted, "All this flirting! Aren't you done yet?" you say it a little loudly and the woman who hands you your drink sends you a glare. Your cheeks heat up and you mumble a small sorry as you slide her your money.

James catches your other arm before you can turn around and walk away from him. "Hey wait, what do you mean am I done? Do'you want me to be done?" he sound unsure and you can see his confusion on his face.

Now you're confused. "Are you not planning on being done?" you whisper.

James can't hear you over the loud music and chatter inside so he moves you outside gently and you don't have to time to wonder why you let him.

It's slightly dark but the air is warm and James can hear you now when you ask the question again. He looks you over, still extremely puzzled by the entire situation.

"Wait, done with what?" he asks.

You blink at him. "What?" you feel like you're losing your mind.

"Am I done with what?" he asks camly and you roll your eyes.

"Done with flirting with me!" you exclaim, running a hand in your hair, "I- I don't understand, James. Why haven't you moved on? Sure, it was funny for a while but it's been years, even you must find the joke stale by now?"

James mouth opens and closes like some kind of fish and then he stares at you like you have lost your mind. "Joke? What joke?" he says and walks a little closer to you. He sounds even more confused. "Y/n, do you want me to stop flirting with you?"

You bite your lip, "I mean, yes? Because, it's not really funny anymore. I didn't mind it, Potter, but —" you pause and then hold the drink in your hand tighter. "Okay, here. What if I say I like you too? Can we just have a good laugh about it and then it all be over?"

James's frown deepens and he waves his arms in the air. "Wait, you think I'm joking?"

You blink at him again. "You're not?"

James runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief, "Of course I'm not joking," he walks even closer and you feel his presence as your skin tingles. You look up as he brushes his thumb on your chin and then smiles warmly, "I'd never pursue anyone as a joke. If you said you like me, then I would say thank Merlin and then I would kiss you until you couldn't feel those gorgeous lips of yours," he says it so calmly but you almost drop your drink.

"Wait, so you actually, no-jokes, like me?"

"Oh yeah. Why would you think I was making that up?" James moves his thumb to brush over your lips now, a look of adoration in his eyes, "I'm not that committed to my jokes," he teases.

He pauses to think, "you think a twelve-year-old boy would write you cheesy love notes every class and actually send them if it was a joke? Or likewise, a sixteen-year-old would spend all of 6th year reading every single book you borrowed from the library just in case he had the chance to impress you? Or lose sleep over the way you wear your hair, or know that you change your nail-polish every week but you rotate the same colors since 4th year," James blushes a little at the admission and pauses, "and now I just sound like a creep, don't I?"

You laugh and the sound makes James grin. You hesitate but touch his cheek, tilting your head, "So, you meant every over-the-top gesture and every hilariously stupid pick-up-line?" you ask, "ever since 2nd year?"

James nods, leaning into your touch. "Mmm yeah, but we can pretend that I was joking about the pick-up-lines that way it's less embarrassing for me," he says sheepishly.

"But I liked your pick up lines," you pout with a smile, your shoulders relaxing.

James's eyes sparkle, "Yeah? You did?"

You smile at him. "No, but now it's funnier that you were serious about them."

James looks at you and he laughs. He throws his head back with a grin and your chest tightens even more. Has he always been this handsome or have you just never let yourself fully admire him? James looks at you again and his next words almost cause a heart attack. "Merlin, I've never wanted to kiss you as much as I do now,"

Your eyes flicker to his lips unconsciously and you realiz ehow close he is. You're nervous now and James can tell. Gently, he takes the drink in your hand and sets it on the small ledge of the building. It might fall but that's the least of your worries. For now, you need to focus on remembering how to breathe.

Something must be different in the way you're looking at him because James asks you if he can kiss you. Years and years of flirting and he's never asked you that.

You don't answer him and just when the silence starts to become awkward you take his cheeks in your hands and pull him towards you. Your lips hit his clumsily and you gasp into his mouth when his arm swoops behind you and he pulls you closer. James kisses you hungrily and you start to wonder why you hadn't done this years earlier.

When James disconnects his lips from yours and looks at you sweetly. "I didn't think you'd say yes," he whispers, "even less that you'd say it like that," his cheeks are tainted pink and your lip-gloss stains his lips.

"Neither did I," you admit and look away a moment. Goosebumps run across your arms and, because you don't know where to put your hands anymore, you put them in your jacket pockets. You frown and pull out the galleons you'd used to pay for your drink with your left hand. You look back at James and he looks guilty. "What's this?" you ask.

"I paid for your drink when you weren't looking. I knew you'd most likely say no again but I couldn't resist. I'm sorry," he holds his nape and sways on his feet.

You stare at him, slightly annoyed but also impressed that he'd put the money in your pocket without you noticing. You outsrech your open palm for him to take the money. "You'know, you make it very hard for me not to fall head over heels in love with you, James Potter."

James grins and closes your hand around his. "That the point, love," he says.

You roll your eyes, realizing if he'd gone behind your back to pay for you he'll never accept your money now. "So, are you gonna ask me out properly or what?"

James smirks, "Are you going to say yes this time?"

You grin, "You'll just have to find out now, won't you? Tenth times the charm?"

"I don't think that's the expression—"

"Just ask me already, you idiot," you giggle.

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vanteguccir · 1 month

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Left alone | Matt Sturniolo | part 2

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the weight of Matt's actions gets the best of him, and he tries everything to receive his girl's forgiveness.

Warning: Fighting, cursing, crying, smut (mdni), slight praise kink. Angst with a happy ending!

Requested?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt sighed deeply as he parked his car at an abandoned gas station. He closed his eyes tightly as his index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his own nose. His body was completely tense, as if someone had thrown a sack of potatoes over his shoulders and hadn't removed it until now.

The boy reopened his eyes seconds later, looking vacantly at the pitch black surrounding him before seeing out of the corner of his eye his phone screen light up for the thousandth time, alerting him of a new notification. He picked up the device, unlocking it and scrolling through the notifications bar.

His heart seemed to stop pumping blood to his body instantly, his face taking on a pale color as he saw more than 20 new messages and thousands of missed voice calls coming from Chris.

His brain seemed to go on red alert as his mind screamed Y/N's name, and then he finally revisited the memory of what he did to his own girlfriend just over an hour ago, the smoky fog finally dissipating from behind his eyes.

Matt felt like his chest was burning while his heart accelerated strongly. His arms momentarily lost strength, almost dropping his phone.

His eyes flicked through the messages before tossing the device onto the passenger seat, turning the key in the ignition and driving back.

He stepped on the accelerator with full force, exceeding all permitted limits and passing all red lights. He knew he would wake up the next day with a new ticket - or several -, but that was his last concern at that moment.

His orbs were fixed on the road, his brow furrowed as his mind rattled off the words he threw at his girl, his precious girl. If he could, Matt would go back in time right then and there, so he wouldn't break his promise to never hurt and abandon her.

Matt turned his steering wheel abruptly when their house appeared on his eyesight, slamming the break in front of the garage door, wasting no time in parking correctly. His hands quickly unlocked the doors, throwing his body out of the driver's seat and slamming it behind him, the dull thud echoing through the lonely night.

The boy's hands shook as he fumbled for the front door key, cursing under his breath each time it seemed to slip through his fingers.

Finally, after a few long seconds, he was able to open it, closing it slowly so as not to wake Nick, not wanting to involve another person in his huge mistake.

His steps were quick down the stairs, stopping in front of the familiar white door. The boy took a deep breath before turning the handle, pushing it slightly.

Matt's eyes met Y/N quickly, pain hitting his heart like a stake at seeing her in such a vulnerable state; Her eyes - despite being closed - were swollen and her face was wet from the last tears she shed before falling asleep.

A rude sound caught his attention, his gaze meeting Chris's, who stood up from his chair abruptly. His eyes held a fury that Matt didn't remember ever seeing before, while his shoulders were tense with nervousness.

Before Matt could utter a word, Chris pulled the collar of his shirt, bringing his face closer to his own. Chris's nostrils were flared from his heavy breathing, hitting Matt's face.

"If Jimmy was here, you'd be dead. That's no way to treat a woman." Chris rasped, his voice low but full of anger. "Fix your mistakes, or I'll end you."

He pulled away, roughly letting go of Matt's shirt, watching him with his right eyebrow raised and crossed arms, waiting for his next move.

Matt swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip hard, feeling the sensation of crying rise through his veins. He quickly turned his back on Chris, walking over to his brother's bed with tentative steps.

His hands lightly pulled the duvet down, exposing the fragile body covered in the pink sweatshirt set. Matt hooked his arms under Y/N's neck and knees, pulling her up carefully, watching her eyes move beneath her eyelids quickly. A sign of a nightmare.

Matt hugged her closer to his body, walking past his brother with his head down in shame, leaving the room and going up the stairs slowly, not wanting to wake her with every movement of each step.

Upon arriving in their respective bedroom, the boy took her to the bed, placing her body gently on the soft mattress.

"M-Matty?" The fragile voice echoed like lightning in Matt's chest.

Matt sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he crouched down, getting into a squatting position. The boy rested his arms on the mattress, bringing his face slightly closer to hers, watching her eyes slowly open.

"You came back. I thought you left me." Y/N whispered, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Would you really leave me?"

Matt felt his heart being crushed by her words, his cheeks burning, as if he had been slapped. He swallowed hard, mentally calling himself every worst name possible.

"No, no, no, baby! I would never leave you-" He shook his head repeatedly, his brow furrowing in such a way that he was sure it would leave marks.

You already did.

"But... You said you'd stay forever, and then you left me out in the cold, alone." A sob escaped Y/N's lips, her weak body shaking incessantly. "What did I do? Why would you do that to me?"

Matt felt his own eyes filling with tears, blinking them quickly to ward off the tears. The boy bent over his girl, hugging her head gently, stroking her hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love. I fucked up. Badly." An ugly sob escaped Matt's throat, cutting off his sentence. He closed his eyes tightly, the taste of his tears touching his tongue. "I love you so much, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that this doesn't change my actions, and trying to find a plausible explanation for why I acted that way won't erase what I did." His eyes travel across Y/N's features, seeing an ocean of hurt in her eyes. "If I could, I would go back and remake our day all over again."

He paused momentarily, swallowing hard.

"All the work we are getting with the 6 million and the new things on the channel has taken a toll on me. I missed you so much, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don't know what's gotten into me, I just got so upset because I wasn't seeing you as much as before. God, I was so selfish." Matt shook his head, biting his bottom lip hard. "I love you, and I never want to hurt you, not again. I was on the wrong, I fucked up with you."

His hands shook as they found her cheeks, caressing the wet skin.

"I'm so sorry." His voice now was a mere whisper, pain present in his tone.

"I-I understand. I also made a mistake, I should have warned you that I had to work overtime and... Give you space, I know I can be a lot sometimes. I never wanted you to come pick me up out of pity or obligation-"

Matt shook his head repeatedly, silencing her by guiding her head slightly so that she looked him in the eyes. His fingers working to brush the loose hair from her face.

"Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. I love taking care of you as I take you to work and pick you up... It was my fault. I was an asshole, a terrible boyfriend, I- fuck..." He presses his lips into a thin line, stopping the sob that was about to come out. "I left you alone, what the hell was I thinking?"

"It's okay." Y/N whispers, lowering her eyes to the mattress, feeling her chest burn in pain from seeing him so distressed.

"Shh, no. It isn't okay." Matt denies it, his fingers touching Y/N's chin lightly, forcing her to look at him again. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness." He was pleading with his eyes for her to understand that she was not the one to be blamed.

Y/N nods while sniffling, closing her eyes as she feels her fingers caress her face as if she were made of porcelain.

"I love you. So much." Matt says. His hands cup her face, bringing his own closer, touching their noses in an eskimo kiss. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeated it like a mantra, sighing when he felt his girlfriend's ragged breaths so close to his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry."

Their faces were equally wet with tears.

"It's okay, I'll forgive you at some point. Just... Don't ever do it again. Please." Y/N plead in a vulnerable whisper, half opening her eyes, before closing them again as she feels Matt's lips caress hers.

"Never, I'll never do anything like that again. I promise. I'll take care of you forever." He assured, nodding his head. "What can I do? How... What can I do to make you forgive me?" His tone was full of despair.

Y/N pondered momentarily, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Her hands snaked across the duvet until they reached Matt's wrists, wrapping her fingers gently around them. She pushed her head forward, lightly bumping her nose against his, touching their lips almost imperceptibly.

"Make love with me. Show me how sorry you are. Show me how much you love me, Matt. Please." She begged softly, her eyelashes caressing her cheeks as her eyelids fluttered, hiding her orbs.

Matt felt his breathing stop, his mind seeming to process what she asked. He curved his spine higher up the mattress, sealing his lips on Y/N's quickly, before pulling away, but not enough to lose the warmth of his face against his own.

"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability." His tone, despite being anxious, had hints of hesitation, not wanting to invade his girl's space after such a traumatic event.

"Please, Matty. I need to feel you. I need you to love me." Thick tears rolled down Y/N's cheeks, her tone full of anguish and lust, a strange mix, but one that matched perfectly at that moment.

Matt didn't blink, pushing himself up off the floor before kneeling on the mattress, helping Y/N lift her upper body.

He rested his right hand on the bed while his left one gently held his girl's jaw, as if she was made of glass and could break at any moment.

The boy brought his face closer to hers again, taking her lips in an intense kiss. His blue eyes closed at the sensation, his warm tongue caressing Y/N's bottom lip, asking for entry, which was quickly granted.

Their tongues started a beautiful dance, the taste of tears mixed with saliva. Whimpers escaped Y/N's throat, her hands flying to the back of Matt's neck, lightly tugging at the curly strands.

Matt moved nimbly onto the duvet, kneeling between his girl's legs and using both of his hands to guide her down, squeezing the spot below her breasts, just above her ribs, so that her back lay against the mattress again.

He bent his torso over Y/N's chest, keeping his weight supported on his right hand while his left one caressed her cheek, never once breaking the kiss.

Y/N snaked her hands around Matt's shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles caused by his position, desperate for contact.

Her fingers went down her boyfriend's abdomen like warm water, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slowly. Matt broke the kiss for a second, allowing her to pull the piece of clothing off his body.

His large hands worked on ripping off Y/N's hoodie gently, admiring every bit of her exposed skin, and mentally thanking her for being braless.

He dropped the heavy piece to the floor, lowering his spine again and sealing her lips, their tongues now in a slower pace, pain giving way to love.

Matt ran his right hand down Y/N's breasts, caressing her nipples just momentarily, before moving further down, trailing his fingertips across her stomach and navel, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

He touched the waistband of her sweatpants lightly, breaking the kiss momentarily to draw in air, which filled his lungs like water on dry ground. His eyes wandered over the girl's hopeful expression, taking that as a go-ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the mattress slightly, pressing their mouths together again, craving the contact.

Matt smiled against her sensitive lips, finally running his hand through the layers of clothes, moving down until he found Y/N's pleasure point.

His fingers rubbed circles around the already swollen clit, receiving nasal sighs from the girl below him, who raised her hips in search of more contact.

He took his fingers further down, slipping a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move better. He gathers a bit of it before slowly introducing two digits.

Matt pulled his lips away from Y/N, his blue eyes traveling over her features contorted in pleasure as she felt his long fingers going deep inside her. He felt like he could admire her like that forever; cheeks flushed from all the crying and pleasure, mouth slightly open - from where gasps and sighs escaped -, brow furrowed and eyes closed.

That was his private paradise.

"Matt, please." Her voice came out in a faint whisper, a silent plea for more.

The boy didn't take long, lifting himself onto the mattress to have greater access, dragging the sweatpants and panties down his girl's legs slowly, not wanting to hurt or rush her.

He removed his own pants and boxers, returning to his initial position between his girlfriend's legs. Matt lowered his torso, spreading small, wet seals across her belly toward her breasts.

His hands gently held Y/N's heels, pushing them so that she bent her knees and placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, opening her legs wider.

A breathy moan escaped the girl's lips as Matt gently kissed one of her nipples, the slightly chilled air of the room hitting the saliva on her hot skin, goosebumps rising through her body as a result.

"Is it good, baby? I'm making you feel good, hm?" Matt questions knowingly. "Y'so pretty. Even when you cry. My pretty girl."

He stroked the skin between the valley of her breasts with the tip of his nose, before moving up further, managing to see Y/N nod her head repeatedly in response, her cheeks wet from her tears.

Matt pressed his forehead to hers, their heavy breaths mixing as he looked down momentarily, taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times, a wince escaping his lips at the sensation.

His blue eyes met hers, silently asking if he could continue. In response, Y/N's right hand snaked up his torso towards the small of his back, pressing down lightly, while her left hand squeezed the biceps of his occupied one.

Matt lowered his hips, brushing his red tip between her folds. He moved his hips gently, slowly pushing into her. A unison moan escaped both of their lips, Y/N closing her eyes tightly at the feeling of invasion while Matt kept his open, taking note of her every expression.

The boy eventually started picking up his pace, going with slow and shallow thrusts, sighs escaping his mouth, accompanied by breathy moans from Y/N.

"Matt- Oh." Her mouth opened in a perfect O as she felt Matt hit a specific spot inside her that made her see stars. "D-don't stop. Please."

"I won't, my love. I'll never let you go. Never again." Matt promised, his hips moving to deepen his thrusts.

Tears fell from Y/N's eyes due to the overwhelming sensations, the weight of the previous events still hurting in her heart, mixing with the immense pleasure that the boy was presenting her.

Matt sealed each of her tears with his lips, whispering sweet nothings and little apologies, along with huge declarations of love.

A sob escaped Y/N's mouth, her teeth working to clamp down on her lower lip in an attempt to stop the loud, ugly sounds from keep escaping.

"Hey, hey, sweet girl. I'm here for you. You're so important, the best girl out there. I love you so much... M'so sorry." He murmured against her lips lightly, his own heart aching with each tear that fell her pretty eyes. "Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?"

"N-no, please. I need you, I need to feel you." Y/N responded desperately, shaking her head, lifting her head off the mattress and sealing their lips in a messy kiss.

"It's okay, it's alright." Matt responded gently against her mouth. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

His movements never stopped, Matt alternated the rhythm between slow and deep, reaching places inside Y/N never reached before, feeling her hot, spongy walls pressing him into a delicious tightness.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N moaned against Matt's chin, their faces moving messily against each other from the now faster movements. "P-please." She cried.

"I love you so much, so fucking much." Matt panted back, fucking her with a little more urgency, chasing her and his own orgasm.

It didn't take more than five thrusts, and Y/N felt her entire body tremble, her legs instinctively wanting to close - being blocked by Matt's hips - while her belly contracted. Her chest rose slightly from the mattress as her spine arched from the intense pleasure that hit her.

Her eyes saw little stars as she rolled them tightly, Matt's name escaping her lips like a mantra.

The sight and feeling of his girl's body shaking against his brought Matt's orgasm to the surface, hitting him hard. A moan escaped his throat as he buried himself deep inside her pussy, feeling his cock throbbing against the walls that seemed to want to crush him.

Matt pressed his nose against Y/N's cheek, breathing in her scent as he felt the sensations of his orgasm slowly subside.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Y/N whispered, still in a post-orgasm trance, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged, her legs still having small spasms.

Matt kept his eyes fixed on her face, watching her come down slowly, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her.

"Y'with me, babe? S'all for you, my love. Always." Matt slurred, pressing his lips against his girl's warm, flushed cheek. His left hand went up her body to her face, wiping away the traces of tears. "I'm so sorry, petal." He asked again, his chest still aching.

"S'okay, I forgive you." She nodded, kissing his left shoulder lightly, her eyes heavy with sleep from exhaustion and excessive crying.

"I'm going to fill the bathtub and give you a relaxing bath, okay? M'gonna take care of you, sweet girl." Matt spoke softly, moving his hips slowly, taking his cock out of her, receiving a small sound of discomfort in response. "Shh. I know baby, I know." He whispered. "I'm gonna grab some snacks from the kitchen, so you can eat while I wash your body. How does that sound, pretty girl? Hm?"

"S'good. Please." Her voice came out in an almost incomprehensible whisper, her eyelids serving as curtains for her heavy eyes. She could feel her head floaty and her heart beating in a rhythmic rhythm, her skin warm with euphoria.

Matt sealed her forehead with his lips for long seconds, closing his eyes and breathing in the natural scent of Y/N's skin.

He still felt the guilt eating him alive, promising himself he would never again let his emotions get the best of him. He would take care of her, his best girl.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @iammattswife @ilovethesturniolotriplets @disturbedwoodelf @sturnzsblog @mattsneezing @sillyfreakfanparty @firexovni @iloveneilperry @jlb20416 @strnlsblog @twdfjhsdjk

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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a lazy day in bed with reiner that’s really not so lazy at all….curtains drawn, blankets strewn about and your bodies tangled limb in limb. Fluffy pillows and nightwear alike strewn across the floors. Your wooden bed frame smacking against the wall as the force of the rocking bed drives it there. Joining the chorus of loud moans and pouring rain from the outside. The shift in weather had made it far cooler than either of you were used to but he knows just how to warm you guys up. His much larger frame practically swallows you whole as your smaller hands curl around his back. His tanned back that you’ve laced with deep red scratches because he can’t stop thrashing around inside of you like a man unhinged. Pounding that core relentlessly with primal grunts arising from his throat. He doesn’t mean it to hurt you, but to make sure you know that you meant the world to him. His one and only desire at the moment. He whispers in your ear, nibbling gently at your lobe whilst telling you how soft you are, how warm it feels inside of you and how he never wants to let you go. “Yer’ so tight….fucking squeeze me, baby..” uttering in a rough groan. “Mmph, just don’t stop fucking me..” His cock is nestled between your plump lower lips, buried to the hilt..it’s his favorite place to be. There’s nowhere else in the world that would make him happier. Feeling as if he’s touched the hand of God himself each time he goes in and out. It’s as if time comes to a complete halt when you’re together….nothing else matters. Especially when he can feel you contracting around him..allowing your juices to flow like the waters of a river. He’s so grateful for it. Grateful that he gets you all to himself with no interruptions. Going for hours until neither of you can take another second. Making love to you in every position imaginable. From slow side strokes to wake you both up, intense backshots to where you were at the moment…gentle, passionate kisses amid being fed deep strokes. He’s worked up a sweat, you’re both a little spent, sure. But as far as he was concerned, it’s an off day well spent.

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steddielations · 9 months

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Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in.

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans.

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?”

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.”

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.”

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes.

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.”

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.”

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth.

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this.

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle.

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.”

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty.

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

#behave boys taste testing is a Very Important job #steddie #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fluff

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noras-dc-shenanigans · 10 months

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Adoption | Learn

“So let me get this straight.”

Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.

“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”

If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.

“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”

A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.

After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,

“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”

… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.

Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.

Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.

So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.

But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.

At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.

The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.

‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’

Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.

Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.

#DPxDCFamilyWeek #Danny Felton #Batfamily #Danny’s drama was inherited #Danny is a little sh*t #you tell ‘em Danny!

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lalacliffthorne · 9 months

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⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my swords and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the begin of the battle had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses seemed to be close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and bloodred eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from north, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were screwed.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one of the beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his hand and Truthteller in his other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart falling out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now´s the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier´s neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and Threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, flying at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can'´t wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him, shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged the next blow, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me, so close I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips opened, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “It's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you, something that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier! Where I didn't have to hide!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow. “And it scares the fuck out of me, but I don't care!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt. “Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel as the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn´t seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my breath to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a chicken!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped; Azriel pulled me around, and his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder, I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I could have fallen asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel´s eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel´s other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #lalacliffthorne

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coryosbaby · 3 months

Text

ʟᴜᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴀ ᴍʏ ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !

Fandom: ‘House of the Dragon’

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister! Reader

Synopsis: You seek solace with your brother in his chambers after a humiliating incident with Aegon.

Content warning . mild mentions of misogyny and rape, canon-typical incest, nsfw. 18+, MDNI

Your body shakes as you wander the empty halls of the Targaryen castle desperately. Tears stream down your cheeks, your face on fire, as you make your way to your brother Aemond’s chambers.

Thankfully, the guards to his room have been dismissed and so have the servant girls. Your fists rap against the door, once, twice.

When Aemond opens the door, you fall into him.

Your arms wrap around him, your teary eyes burying into his chest. He tenses against your hold, confused, but after a moment his hands rest on your waist and he pulls you into his room. Closing the door behind him, he guides you over to the thick armchair sitting in front of his desk. Your ripped skirts trail across the stoned floor, your eyes red and puffy. Aemond gently pushes you down onto the cushions.

He’s silent, but his eyes are concerned and you hold your face in your hands. He reaches across to his desk and pulls out a handkerchief. His fingers gently grab your chin, and he wipes away your tears. You avoid his gaze as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“What has our brother done now, sweet sister?”

Your bottom lip wobbles as you try to keep from sobbing again.

“He humiliated me,” you say quietly, recalling the events from earlier. “He ripped my c-clothes in front of all of his friends. He called me a—“

You let out a choked sound, tears filling your eyes again at your husband’s cruelty.

“A what?”

“…A whore.”

Your voice cracks. Aemond’s jaw clenches, and his fingers tighten on each side of the armchair.

“Leave him to me.”

He moves to his feet, but your tiny fingers wrap around his much larger ones as you jump up to meet his towering height.

“Please, do not cause conflict with him at this hour. I beg of you.”

He looks at you through narrowed eyes. However close Aemond and his brother are, it doesn’t compare to your shared bond with him. Any ounce of disrespect aimed towards you may as well be directed at Aemond himself.

“Aegon needs to be held accountable,” he says sternly. His hands rest on your waist, and they’re soft. Not angry or violent like his raging thoughts at the given moment. He will always be gentle with you. “I’m sick of his antics. You are not some— some prize. You are the princess. You are to be respected.“

“Aemond,” you cry, your fingers gripping his forearms. “Please. Another night. Not now.”

He wants to ram a sword into his brother’s head delectably slow. But he mustn’t utter those words to you. Instead, he tries his best to stay calm and focus on your current state instead. Your dress— a purple thing with lace at the sleeves— is torn to shreds. Aemond takes note that this is your favorite dress. He will go to the seamstress tomorrow to have it remade from completely new fabrics, and then he will wring his brother’s neck with the old ones.

But for now, with you, he will be soft, gentle— he knows you like him best this way.

His thumb brushes against your neck, and he mumbles softly.

“You left your night dress in your chambers, sweetling.”

Heat flares in your cheeks at your brother’s nickname for you, one that he has called you since you were both teenagers. You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I know.”

“I can have someone fetch them for you, if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” you assure, rubbing soft circles into his wrist. “I would.. would it be okay, if I —“

“Borrowed something of mine?”

You nod, embarrassed, although you’ve slept in Aemond’s clothes many times. Being wrapped up in things of his makes you feel comforted, protected. Safe.

I would let all of these men fuck you if they decided it.

It was something Aegon had uttered drunkenly into your ear as he presented you to his friends, blatantly humiliating you. You swallow down the bile rising in your throat at the thought. How could one be so cruel? How could one treat their sister, their wife, as if she was some object? Some whore?

You shake the thoughts out of your head when Aemond takes hold of your hand and pulls you towards his bed. You don’t take a seat just yet, watching as Aemond disappears for a moment only to reappear with a cream colored sleep shirt in his hands.

“Let’s get you out of this, shall we?”

You nod to him, blushing, and his fingers nimbly slide against your back as he turns you around. He begins to unlace the corset back of your dress, sliding the fabric off of your shoulders and down to the floor. Next comes your underthings— cushion-ey soft fingers trail down your spine as all of it drops off of you, and you’re on fire.

You’ve been naked around Aemond before— this is no different from other times. He’s your your best friend— your big brother, after all, and sleepovers are not new. But regardless, you still quiver with nerves and something else you can’t quite place.

After this, Aemond grasps the sleep shirt and slides it over your head. It drops down to your knees, and his large hands pull your hair out from underneath the neckline.

“There,” he murmurs. “All better.”

You turn around to face him, and for the first time tonight your face twitches into a small, happy smile. Aemond presses a kiss to your head.

“Sleep, little one.”

You slide underneath the covers, piling underneath Aemond’s large comforter. He begins to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of his shoulders and unbuttoning his pants. Next comes his eye patch— his uttermost insecurity that he feels no shame for when he’s with you and you only. He slips it off and places it on the nightstand. He slides in next to you, clad in his undergarments. He presses into your side and wraps a strong arm around your stomach. You sigh, relaxing and basking in the man’s warmth. Tiredness takes over you, and Aemond presses a kiss to your neck. It’s so utterly soft, his lips pillowy and plump. Your lashes flutter.

“Aemond,” you breathe. “Avy jorrāaelan, lēkia.”

(I love you, brother.)

He pauses, breathing heavily against you. He doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t have to. You already know that he loves you, too.

Your drowsy body moves of its own accord, and you turn over to face him.

You admire him in the low candlelight. His perfectly tousled hair, the curve of his cheekbones, the turquoise jewel in replacement of his eye. You wonder how different it would’ve been if he had been your betrothed.

Your lips press against his, soft and passionate. It’s the first kiss you’ve ever shared with each other, and Aemond sighs against your lips, finally giving in to your sweetness. His hand finds purchase on your hip, and yours move to his hair. He doesn’t let anyone touch his hair but you.

Shy touches soon give way to the exploration of the each other’s bodies. Your hand trails across his chest, down past his navel. You don’t touch him there— not yet, though the bulge in his underwear makes it incredibly tempting. His fingers travel across your collarbone and skim over your breasts. When you pull away from him, your face is incredibly hot.

“I need you.” you say to him, doe eyes staring up at him. Aemond holds back with a heaving chest and a form of self taught control. He almost gasps for breath as he grips your waist.

“Tell me again.”

It comes out a lot more demanding than expected. He growls it, needy and desperate. You whine, your cunt aching.

“I need you,” you say. “Take me. I am yours.”

He can’t deny you this request. He lifts your leg, places it over his own so your back is pressed against his and you’re still spread out for him. He lifts your his night shirt, exposing your cunt that he had left unclothed. His fingers slide against your swollen clit, making you mewl and clench desperately for him. He rubs slow, deliberate circles, getting you perfectly slick and pliant for his cock. When he’s pleased with how wet you are, he pulls out his thick length. He presses his cockhead against your folds, groaning at the wet heat of you.

“Seven…” He sighs, and can’t help but press into your hole, his cock dribbling precum as he makes his way inside your gummy walls. “Such iā ȳrda, needy riñītsos”

(Such a tight, needy little girl.)

Your mouth drops open, emmiting angelic whimpers and moans as he fills you. He starts slow, deep, moving his hips at a steady pace, savoring the feeling of your hole sucking him in. His balls hit your ass, heavy and filled to the brim with cum that he’s oh so desperate to fuck into you. Your tiny fingers curl against his hip, forcing him to stay inside, to keep you safe and sane. He grunts into your ear, feeds you delicious affections and promises.

“You have such a perfect cunny, sweet sister,” he praises hotly. “You mustn’t worry anymore. I’m going to take care of you,” and then, with a gasp emitting out of him, “You are my light, my darling girl.”

You can’t say anything, only arch against his gentle thrusts and grind against him with affection in your heart. He holds you like you’re made of glass, and he fucks you just the same.

It isn’t long before his fingers find your pearl again, drawing a sob out of you as your orgasm unfurls. It’s strong, nothing like the weak, untouched ones you get from Aegon. No, this is powerful— white hot heat curls up in your tummy, spreads down to your toes, and your ears ring with the force. The sound of you coming undone is what has Aemond reaching his peak thereafter. His hips stutter, his balls draw up tight, and he spills inside you with a loud moan. He rides out his high with your name tumbling from his lips like an adulterated prayer.

When he stills, he makes no move to pull out of you. He lays, breathes against your skin, his platinum blonde locks spilling over your shoulder. Your hand finds his, post orgasm haze taking over your psyche. After a moment, Aemond begins to speak.

“Our brother is a fool, sweet sister.” He mumbles. “He will burn eternally for what he has done to you.”

Your fucked out mind agrees. You smile, basking in the after glow of sex, of Aemond. You press yourself against him and dream of sweet nothings, of a different, familiar husband and children’s feet pattering softly against tile stone.

All the while, Aemond’s seed sits heavily inside your womb and the baby inside you begins to grow.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#aemond targaryen #aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond Targaryen x fem! reader #aemond Targaryen x sister! reader #aemond Targaryen smut #aemond Targaryen fanfic #dom! Aemond Targaryen #sub! reader #Aemond Targaryen blurb #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond house of the dragon #Aegon Targaryen

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gojoidyll · 2 months

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There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 1 | All Must Begin and End

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, you own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

Warnings | age gap (y/n is around 20 - 22 yrs old), y/n stages an accident, y/n gets hurt, jing yuan is mean in the beginning, y/n is referred to as princess and with she/her pronouns, implied that jing yuan messes around with maids, grammatical errors, etc.

Fic Masterlist

“The only thing granted to all is an unfair reality, and I promise, by surrendering to me, you can guarantee a long prosperous life.”

The emperor held his weapon to your father’s throat with a steady hand. Your father, in his weakened state, could only kneel to the ground. All the while, you, dressed in your frilly dress, could only peek around the corner of the door and into the thrown room as the scene unfolded. You see, your kingdom was originally at war with the Emperor and his grand nation. However, five years later and your nation was nothing but dirt and corpses as the Emperor let lightning rain down and scorch the ground.

There was nothing your nation could do to annex yourselves out of the Emperor’s tyranny, and any little freedom you did have was now squashed underfoot.

“A long and prosperous life,” your father muttered out, “let’s face it dear Emperor, the only thing left for me and my people is death now that you have laid out your judgement.”

Jing Yuan let his blade fall from your father’s neck, “then how about we come to an agreement?”

Your father finally looked up and Jing Yuan continued, “your nation’s land, trade, commerce, and wealth all belong to the Xianzhou, and all you and your people have to do is live peacefully and quietly under my rule.”

Your father scoffed, “that is basically the same deal as before this war was started!”

Jing Yuan glanced over to where you were hiding behind the corner, the moment your eyes met, you made a small, surprised yelp before hiding fully behind the wall. Jing Yuan looked back down to your father, “then how about a marriage proposal. You have a daughter, don’t you? With a marriage between the Xianzhou and your nation, you can guarantee that you and your people won’t fall to despair and resort to another war. And I can promise you, if you decide to rise up and rally your forces against me again, then this nation truly will be no more.”

“You- you really expect me to give away my only daughter?”

“The choice is yours.”

Your father bowed his head, his lips quivering, “Alright, but what type of life will my daughter be living?”

“As of today, your land, your wealth, and even your daughter is no longer yours to concern yourself with. The moment you agreed was the moment you let everything go.”

Everything after that was a blur. A complete and utter haze that has left you wondering how it all came to be this way. When the war started five years ago you truly thought everything was going to work out as your father has promised, but now? Five months after the war and you find yourself preparing for a wedding with a man who doesn’t even want to speak to you or acknowledge your existence.

“Princess?”

You glanced away from your window, the room you were staying is was vast. Your bed was filled with fuzzy, warm blankets with pillows as fluffy as can be. The carpet was soft and expensive looking. The dresses in your closet smooth as silk and. Your dresser filled with various jewelry that you didn’t even know existed. It was a luxurious room.

“Yes?”

The one who had entered your room was your own personal guard. His “name” was Blade. You knew that that wasn’t his real name, and when you asked about it, well, he didn’t seem too keen on sharing anything with you. So, you were forced with calling him that tacky name.

“Do you plan on staying here all day again?”

“I do.”

“Fine, then I will be off training. If you want to go somewhere, call on me to escort you.”

“I will.”

He left without another word.

And you did feel a little sad when he left, but only because he was one of the few people in this country that ever talked to you. Everyone else always kept their lips shut anytime you would pass them by in the halls.

It was a luxurious life, but you couldn’t help but to miss everyone back home.

“Maybe it’s time I try to break out of this engagement…”

In the past five months, you learned that Jing Yuan was as cold, distant, and cruel as the rumors made him out to be. He didn’t care for you at all. Not to mention that anytime you did run into him or speak to him he always had a beautiful and busty maid by his side who was all handsy with him. Your mother, of course, warned you of this. She warned you how men would prefer the excitement of being with someone they couldn’t have. So, it was no surprise to you when you would catch a maid being too close and familiar with him.

Not that it mattered.

Because you had a plan.

It was dangerous, and it would hurt, but it would be worth it.

Calming your nerves, you stood up from your windowsill, the gardens below becoming too boring to look at any longer.

Your plan consisted of accidentally running into one of the maids and falling down the long flight of stairs and that led into the main hall. There was no doubt in your mind that you will get hurt. But you were counting on it. In fact, what you really wanted was to either get amnesia or fake getting amnesia. Which is exactly why you were thankful Blade was already gone. Because before, the silent man would always be by your side, if you so much as trip he would already have an arm around your waist in order to steady you. It was annoying. So when it became apparent that you would stay in your room all day for the past two months, Blade gradually started to leave you alone which was exactly what you had wanted.

“Now, if I remember correctly, today is laundry day and the maids will be rushing around with big baskets around this time. If I time it perfectly, then…”

You smiled, it took a lot of time to get the schedules down, but you were sure this was going to work. Getting injured, faking amnesia, it was the only way you could think of breaking the engagement off. Well, it was that or running away. However, Jing Yuan made it clear that you would be executed if you ran away…

Steadying your heart, you opened your door. Blade was nowhere in sight and the maids could be heard down the hall.

“Perfect!”

You put your plan into effect.

The moment you hiked up your dress and started running down the hall, you were glad to see the maids already rushing about. But you couldn’t run into one of them right now. No, your goal was the stairs. Running a bit further, you could already see the railing making you smile.

This is really going to hurt, but I would rather be hurt than being married to that man!

“Excuse me Princess!”

“Watch out!”

“Ahh! Princess!”

And soon everything went dark. Your vision, your mind, you could feel the first fall and the way your head slammed into the first set of stairs, but other than that – you were swiftly knocked out. Though, before you fully lost consciousness, you could only hope that you wouldn’t have to fake amnesia when you woke up. Because you knew Jing Yuan was sharp. And acting wasn't your specialty at all.

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair taglist | @danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @howtiring @thechibifoxcub @n1ghtmare-2 @fabi23zuni @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @vash-yuu @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @gilbertisbestboi @moon-taffy @sylockk-m0ndsch3in @leaf1224 @butt44rr @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @kuraichycoochie @isa-l0v3r @rymrum @its-astrotea-love @unstable-kuro @toki-mekii @angelofdarkness2 @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @hanabanananana

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

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

Note

the idea of the whole school of Casper high judging wes´s flirting skills and then being horrified that they still somehow kinda work is gold!!

also i feel like somewhere in the future someone in the batfam will ask baby dami how he got the "demon" name since hes a clone and hes just going to look the person in the eye and say "my brothers pet stalker gave it to me"

"MY BROTHER'S PET STALKER GAVE IT TO ME" that's now the only way Damian refers to Wes - that and 'Weston'. And just imagine Danny walking into that room in that moment as he says it, and then perking up and going "Oh are we talking about Wes?" and he walks over to ruffle Damian's hair and affectionately goes, "and he's not my pet, Dames." But he doesn't deny the stalker bit.

(And you know if Wes was there he'd be denying it up and down that he's a stalker - he's an investigator. A detective! Quit calling him that!) And the batfam present all exchange slightly concerned looks with one another and someone -- lets go Dick or Tim or Bruce, goes "Stalker?"

Danny just waves it off with a huff and goes "it's not that serious, don't worry i've got it handled" before changing the subject to something else. Or talking a little bit more about wes without bringing up that he thinks he's a vigilante (which he is).

and also yesss imagine the first time dany goes to bother wes during the middle of lunch and danny says something mildly tame compared to what he normlly does because wes is with a bunch of friends -- maybe he decides to do the "hey Weston, I heard you spreading rumors about me being Phantom?" thing, and he's wearing this bewildered smile

all of Wes' friends are giving Wes this LOOK like 'way to go genius, you got his attention, now what?' and instead of Wes stammering or backtracking, instead he doubles down on it. All of his friends are looking at him like Velvet from Trolls 3 when Veneer revealed that they were phonies. Just utter betrayal.

just. just this face. the entire table is making that face at Wes as he (to them) fumbles the bag so badly that he may as well have tossed it into a gutter. They all watch as Fenton is weirded out by Wes, and the two of them have this back-and-forth with Fenton poking holes at Wes about him being Phantom and Wes just keeps saying he is Phantom, and he should stop denying it.

When Fenton finally leaves, Wes' best friend turns and thwacks him hard in the shoulder and hisses at him what the hell did he just do? He didn't just miss the basket, he missed the entire damn court entirely! he threw the ball into the stands!

And Wes hisses back at him that he has no idea what he's talking about. Wes' friend calls him an idiot. A big dumb idiot. And then Fenton goes and bothers him in the hallway a few days later. And everyone else?? Flabbergasted.

And then it keeps. happening. Fenton keeps?? approaching Wes? And he sometimes he seems vaguely delighted by their conversations, like Wes is saying some of the funniest things in the world? -- and okay, maybe it is funny that he keeps getting accused of being a vigilante, its funny in a weird way. And Wes looks completely annoyed by his existence -- and you know what somehow this tracks because Fenton was dating Valerie for a time and she was completely annoyed by him when they first met. Maybe Fenton has a type???

Either way, nobody knows how to wrap their head around how Wes's cringefail "flirting" techniques are working. By all means, Fenton should be hating this guy because he keeps accusing him of being his parents' worst enemy (self-proclaimed by the Fenton parents), but instead he just appears bewildered but mildly entertained by Wes' antics.

#dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #clone^2 #danny fenton is not the ghost king #sO ngl i had this finished and written like. the day it got sent in i just didn't post it because i had nothing to say in the tAGS #and i have my best thoughts in the tags /j

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oharaslover · 4 months

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could you make a miguel x chubby reader where he’s the readers mortal enemy as he’s the ruler of a much larger kingdom but he wants an alliance for some totally random reason and the reader is completely oblivious to the reasoning behind his actions?

ik it’s dead specific but yh

yes, your majesty

pairing: king miguel o’hara x chubby princess reader

contents: mirror sex, doggy, breeding kink (if you squint), and arranged marriage

author’s note: so this wasn’t exactly like the request (i’m sorry) but i hope you enjoy regardless :)

word count: 4.7K+

Sounds of screaming and agony awoke Miguel up from his slumber, springing up in his bed covered in a cold sweat. If he tried hard enough, he could usually hear the word 'help!' escaping from his brother's mouth. The sounds had been engraved in his mind for so long that he could usually fall asleep soon after the dreams, but the sweet relief of sleep didn't hit him no matter how much he tossed and turned. He'd been so lost in his mind that he'd forgotten about the woman laying down next to him, her presence providing no comfort towards the situation.

"Sire, sorry to disturb your sleep but your father wishes to have a word with you," one of the maids called out, her fingers gently tapping against his door. "I'll be right there," Miguel responded, rubbing his hand over his eyes as the sun peeked through the white silk curtains. He got up from his bed, pulling on the first pair of pants that he could find before taking out his wallet. "How much do I owe you for the night?" he asked the woman laying on the bed, her eyes barely getting adjusted to the light. She looked visibly disappointed that he was pushing her away but she was quick to hide her reaction.

"Two hundred," she responded, brushing her hair off to the side as she zipped up the dress she'd worn last night. "I trust that this won't get out to the press," he warned her, passing her three hundred dollar bills before walking back to his closet to get a shirt. Once he finished making himself presentable, the woman had already left without another word. Miguel walked down the halls of the palace, the portraits of him and his brother haunting him as he walked to his father's office. Before he had the chance to knock, his father had already told him to come inside.

The walls of the room seemed to be closing in as Miguel looked over at his father, meeting his sharp green eyes. "Sit down, we have a lot to talk about," his father motioned him to the seat in front of his desk, Miguel’s feet begrudgingly taking him to the spot. "I hope you know how expensive these little habits of yours are getting. You think that you're being sneaky but you're not," George started off, not bothering to look over at Miguel anymore as he started reading off a report. "I don't see how it's a concern. The press doesn't know anything about them," Miguel responded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back on the chair.

"It will be a concern when you're engaged," his father deadpanned, finally looking up from the report at him. Miguel couldn't help but start laughing at the absurdity of the situation, his chuckles dying down after he saw the look on his father's face. "Engaged? And to who?" Miguel decided to entertain the situation, even if he was certain he wouldn't go through with it. "The youngest princess of Nova Atlantea," George responded, his disgust evident at the way that he even uttered the words. Miguel took a couple seconds to let it register in his brain, laughing once more as he stared at his father. You can't expect me to marry her. The kingdom has Gabriel under captivity if you recall."

"Which should be enough incentive for you to get married to my daughter," the king from Nova Atlantea bellowed, King James, walking in and sitting next to Miguel. Miguel glanced over at him, motioning him to continue with the statement. "Your kingdom has plenty of resources to offer, from military equipment to natural resources, while we have your brother. I’d say it's a pretty even deal," the king added, a devilish smile appearing on his smile after he finished speaking. Miguel’s teeth grinded together, looking back at his father for some kind of backup to no avail.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about what the two men were telling him, looking down at the floor like he wished for it to open and shallow him up. “I do have one request for the marriage. I’d like for my daughter to remain blissfully unaware of what's taking place here. Make her believe that you've been longing for her since you first saw her or something," the king spoke up, making Miguel look up. Even though the idea of marrying his rival filled him up with inexplicable rage, he was also aware that it was his fault that Gabriel had been captured. "I suppose that sounds like a fair arrangement then."

Miguel hesitated to sign the treaty that was placed in front of him a couple minutes later, his hand shaking as he held the pen in his hand. His handwriting came out sloppy as he essentially signed off his freedom, locked down to the duties of the kingdom. "How do you feel about coming to dinner later? I’d love to have you as a guest," the king told him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. It was more of an order than a request, but Miguel still found himself nodding along to what the king was saying. He waited for the heavy footsteps to fade away, going off to his chamber to analyze the situation in a more clear light.

Miguel had spent most of the day in his bed, tossing a ball up at the ceiling as the wheels in his head turned to figure out a way to get out of the situation. Unfortunately, the whole arrangement was bound by printed words thus bounding him as well to fulfill his part of the deal. Even if he was doing this to free his brother from the prison he'd been forced in, he couldn't help but think about what you would think of his deception. He got up when one of the servants came in, putting a suit down on the corner of his bed for the dinner. He begrudgingly got out of bed, running a hand through his hair while he walked into the bathroom to get ready.

You were in the middle of getting ready for the dinner, your father telling you to dress up beforehand. One of the servants came in, almost buzzing with the news that she had to share with you. "Your majesty, King O’Hara from Nueva York’s going to be at the dinner. Just so you're prepared," she told you, buttoning up the top of your dress while you viewed your appearance in the mirror. You'd never been too interested in the whole diplomacy of the kingdom, being the youngest out of your siblings, but you were aware of the fact that the kingdoms hated one another.

Your mind was running on overdrive as you walked down the stairs, seeing the king already standing there and holding his hand out for you to grab. "Your majesty," Miguel greeted you, his sultry voice melting like butter in your ears. You returned the acknowledgment, walking with him to the dining room. Your father had been frustrated after you ran off every possible suitor that he presented to you, but you never thought of him to be so desperate to seek out an alliance with the kingdom of Nueva York. The dining room was a paradox in itself, a massive room with more than thirty seats but yet only you two and your father were present in the room.

"Pass me the salt, please," your father told Miguel, thanking him once he'd gotten what he'd requested. You looked over at Miguel, the only tell that he was annoyed was the vein bulging in his forehead. You decided to break the silence, wondering why your father and Miguel were acting so cordial around one another. "Excuse me father, but why is the king of Nueva York here?" You spoke up, taking the white cloth from your lap to wipe your mouth. "I'm glad you asked, actually. He's here because the two of you are scheduled to get married by the end of the month," your father responded, your face immediately dropping at the bombshell he'd dropped.

While you'd heard about your siblings getting along with their arranged suitors and some of the romance novels you'd read presenting the idea that love was possible in those arrangements, the idea wasn't something that thrilled you in the slightest. "I thought the kingdoms hated one another," you elaborated, hoping that your father had a temporary lapse in judgement and would be reminded of their positions. "I'm aware of the previous rivalries that there might've occurred. But me and the king are willing to push those aside and unite the kingdoms as one," your father responded, speaking to you like you were one of the multiple news reporters he had to deal with rather than his daughter. "And what if I say no?"

Your father placed the fork he was holding down with force, glaring at you while Miguel was busy cutting into his piece of steak. "The deal is signed. There's no room for you to say no without a bloodshed that you'll end up being responsible for," your father told you, a finality to his voice as he spoke. You decided to remain quiet for the remainder of the dinner, your eyes occasionally drifting off to look at Miguel. You could see that he wasn't exactly eager to go along with the marriage either, but he was playing the facade very well for your father.

You headed out to the balcony after dinner, looking out as the stars shone throughout the night sky. It was the one place in the kingdom where you could see the clarity of the night, no light pollution affecting the view. You jumped a little when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder, turning around to face Miguel. He stood next to you, watching the stars by your side before turning to look at you after a while. "I'm sorry that this marriage isn't exactly what you wanted, your majesty. But I think we can get through this whole ordeal much easier if we try our best to just get along," he spoke up, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I suppose. But you'll have to stop calling me 'your majesty', my name works just fine," you responded, looking over at him. The way that the moonlight shone across his features and the way that his eyes almost seemed to compete with the stars made you realize that maybe falling in love with him wouldn't be the worst thing in the universe. At least, from the physical aspect. "What do you like to do? Just so I have an idea of what to do for our date tomorrow," he told you, his hand snaking its way down to your waist as he held you close to him. "Most of what I do is solely for the purpose of benefiting the public view of the royals. But I’d like to go out for a picnic with you if that's something you'd be willing to do."

The two of you kept talking for most of the night, simply getting to know one another and you found yourself not hating the encounter completely. While you weren't head over heels for what he shown you today, you were interested in uncovering more details about him and his life. He left the castle after the lights had been turned off, leaving you out in the balcony with your thoughts. You looked down at him as he walked through the castle grounds, waving over at him once he turned around. If his eyes didn't beat the splendor of the stars, his smile while he waved back at you certainly did.

A loud knock on your door awoke you the next day, one of the servants poking their head through your bedroom door. "Your majesty, sorry to disturb your slumber but King O’Hara is downstairs waiting for you," she announced, shutting the door after she finished speaking to let you get ready. You got up from the comfort of your sheets, walking into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Your mind began running through all the different possibilities of what was the king's intention through going with this, your mind going back to the fact that his brother was a prisoner in the castle's gallows.

Miguel ended up taking you to the lakeside in his kingdom, a blanket set up with some food on it. You figured that you would disclose the information about his brother's whereabouts, not wanting to force him into the marriage despite the document your father mentioned. "You're agreeing to this because my father promised you Gabriel’s freedom, correct?" You inquired, watching as his brows furrowed before he schooled his expression to return back to normal. He didn't say anything to confirm or deny your suspicions, but he didn't really need to.

"I can show you where's located after we're done with the date, I don't feel comfortable holding someone's life on the line just for the sake of marriage," you told him, pouring in a bit of the champagne he brought into the glass. "You don't have to do that," he spoke up, his voice drifting off with the wind with how quiet he was being. "But I want to. My father tends to make agreements without going through with it," you added, handing him a glass of champagne. Though the conversation from earlier lingered, you ended up enjoying the rest of the evening with him by the lakeside.

The two of you ended up at the palace a couple hours later, your heels clicking on the stairway down to the basement. Miguel followed behind you, staying as quiet as possible just in case that the guards were present. You knew that the guards were out on their break but you couldn't help but be amused at the sight of the giant of a man sneaking around like a mouse. You grabbed the keys from one of the drawers, guiding him to the cell that Gabriel was currently being held. While most of the people that were captured in the castle deserved their fate, Gabriel had been caught for running around in the kingdom as a teenager.

You opened the door to his cell, watching as Gabriel’s gaze adjusted to the lights turning on. He jumped up to his feet when he realized that it wasn't the guards bringing him food, his arms wrapping around Miguel once he saw him. "Mi hermano. Cuánto te extrañé," Gabriel whispered, engulfed in Miguel’s body by the tightness of the hug. (my brother. how i missed you) "Lo siento por dejarte tirado," Miguel’s voice cracked as he spoke, his voice sounding raw from the sheer shock. (i’m sorry for leaving you behind) You stood guard as the brothers had their moment, looking out through the door just to make sure that nobody was coming nearby. "Aorry to ruin the moment but the guards are scheduled to come back in about five minutes," you spoke up, leading them out of the castle.

"Gracias. I appreciate the times that you brought me food and now for freeing me," Gabriel spoke up, turning to look back at you with shiny eyes. You'd taken the responsibility of giving Gabriel food when the guards forgot, which was most of the time since the viewed the prisoners as something less than the corpses underneath the castle. Miguel turned to look at you, a softness in his eyes as he took you in. "Thank you for everything, your majesty," he told you, walking out with Gabriel afterwards. You couldn't help but feel bad as you saw Gabriel limping alongside Miguel, Miguel’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as he helped him maintain his balance.

You were awaken from your nap after the brothers left by your father's screaming, his hands in his hair as he paced throughout the halls of the palace. "What did you do with the prisoner?! There's no way in hell he's going to get married to you now!" Your father bellowed as you walked out of your room, shaking your shoulders out of anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," you tried to deflect from the accusation, pushing him off you when your father was called by one of the maids. He turned to give you a dirty look, walking off with the maid to do what he was beckoned to do.

A week passed by since the last time you saw Miguel, expecting him to end the marriage arrangement but it was still on. You were expecting that he end things after what he wanted, but the announcement was still set for the union of the two kingdoms. Your father was still wary behind every single one of your actions, keeping guards lingering behind you despite how sleek he thought he was being. Now it was time for the two of you to announce your engagement to the world, every member of the press surrounding the kingdoms invited to the party. Your father was stressing out over the party, making sure that everything was up to standards and that every important person had rsvp'd.

Your maids helped you to button up the dress you had on, the dress making you look like a princess from a fairytale. The red dress clinged to every single one of your curves as you headed out to the ballroom, seeing that everyone had already come inside. Miguel came over to you, offering you his arm to wrap around before he lead you inside. The reporters began taking pictures of the two of you, the flash of the cameras almost blinding you as you walked through the crowd. You sat down next to your father on the throne, Miguel standing next to you. your father welcomed the crowd, his voice echoing throughout the room as he got to the point of what the party is about.

You spent the party talking with Miguel, spending most of the afternoon by his side. "So.. why'd you keep the arrangement going despite you getting what you wanted?" You asked him once the reporters were out of earshot, taking a sip from your glass of wine. "I have my reasons, your majesty. Plus, I've been liking getting to know you," he responded, waving over for Gabriel to sit down in front of him. You saw through the corner of your eye that your father was scowling, his eyes full of bitter venom as he saw Gabriel interacting with Miguel. You turned to look back at the boys, talking to them about the things to do around the kingdom and what your favorite views were around to diverge from what your father was doing.

"May I have this dance, your highness?" Miguel asked you, extending his hand out for you to grab. You took hold of his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed one of your hands on his shoulder, the other still in his grasp as he moved you with elegance and grace to the rhythm of the classical song playing. "I thought i told you to stop calling me your majesty," you whispered in his ear, his face contorting into a smile as he twirled you around. "Yes, but you never did say anything about your highness," he responded, the dimples on his face only deepening with the way that you grumbled.

"Where'd you learn how to dance?" You asked him, watching him as he moved in synchrony to whatever song was playing. "My mother taught me before she died. She used to say that the two most important things as a potential suitor were knowing how to dance and how to treat a woman correctly," he told you, his hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close to his body. You leaned in when he dipped his head down, pressing your lips against his. The cameras started surrounding the two of you but you couldn't think of anything else apart from how good and how right his lips felt against yours.

The rest of the party was uneventful, though Miguel managed to keep it interesting with his stupid jokes and remarks. One of the things that you liked the most about him was that he found a way to be funny, without even putting that much effort into the jokes he was making. He got up when his assistant came over, announcing that it was time for them to depart. He dipped his head down, his lips pressing against the back of your hand. Gabriel let out a small wolf whistle to tease him, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he made his way out of the ballroom. "I'll see you at the wedding, your highness."

While you weren't looking forward to the wedding at first, you could say that you were slowly falling in love with who and what Miguel presented himself to be. The wedding ceremony had been short, mostly just for the sake of getting the two kingdoms united rather than the unison of the two beings involved. You'd convinced your father not to do a huge party afterwards, wanting to keep it as discreet and short as possible. The ride back home to the castle was quiet, Miguel’s hand lingering on your thigh as the ring sparkled from the sun's rays. You waved at some of the citizens that had come out to see the ceremony from the outside, watching their faces light up when you acknowledged them.

"I don't think you should do that," you told Miguel just as soon as he made the motion to carry you up the stairs, feeling a bit embarrassed as you looked over at him. "And why not? You're my wife now," he responded, his brows slightly furrowed in confusion. "I just think that maybe you'll struggle too much getting me up the stairs. It's fine, I can walk," you assured him, letting out a small yelp when he took you into his arms. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he led you inside the castle with ease, his footsteps remaining even as he took you up the stairs. You were aware of the fact that he was strong, you could practically see the way his muscles bulged underneath the suits he wore but few people had done this before with you.

"Don't ever insinuate that I can't carry you around because you're too heavy. Never that, mi vida," he told you once he set you down on the bed, his lips trailing down from your chin to your neck. He left little marks in his wake, soft moans escaping from your lips as you gripped onto his hair. He stopped for a moment, holding your hips as he looked down at you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he assured you, his hands gently squeezing your hips to accentuate his point. "I want you to fuck me, please."

He brought over the mirror that you changed in front of, putting in front of your bed before he went back to kissing your neck. "Look at how pretty you look. I’m gonna fuck you until your little head gets rid of those stupid ideas that you're heavy," he whispered, his teeth gently biting onto the side of your neck as he left his mark. You simply nodded in response, your mind struggling to compute the right words to respond to him. He brought you over to the bed, placing you down on your back as he pushed the skirt part of the dress up. "Such pretty white panties, are these all for me?" He asked you, his finger curling around the band of them. "All for you."

He slid them down with ease, his mouth trailing up your leg while his hand massaged the other one at the same time. He left open mouthed kisses on his way up, his lips wrapped around your thighs as he kissed the inner part. "I wanna taste your pussy so bad, but we have plenty of time for that later. The only place you'll be coming on tonight is my cock," he whispered into your skin like a promise, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants down. He helped you with the process of taking off the wedding dress once he finished undressed, leaving you only in the garter and veil.

He pumped himself with one hand, gesturing for you turn around with the other one. You were face to face with your reflection, being able to see everything that Miguel was doing as he slowly pushed his cock inside. Though your cunt was wet from the time that he took kissing you, it still felt like he was stretching you past your every limit. Your grip on the sheets below you tightened as he pushed his cock deeper inside, your velvet walls engulfing his cock every time that he moved. He bottomed out after your pussy had opened up a bit more for him, his hand gripping the bottom of your veil to make you look up.

"You see that? You look so pretty when you're all stuffed up with my cock. I wish you could see yourself the same way that J do you," he told you, looking straight at your face in the mirror. And for a moment there, you could see yourself the same way that he saw you. You looked past the imperfections that usually tormented you, seeing yourself as someone that's worthy of everything that's happening. Miguel took his cock out and you were about to protest, his cock coming back inside killing the words in your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror as he slowly thrusted into you, his hands now gripping the globes of your ass.

Your juices flowed down from your thighs down to the sheets as he sped up and you found yourself unable to break the gaze with him that held through the mirror. Your mouth parted as he pushed deeper inside, the tip of his cock almost near your cervix. Not only was his cock big, but the girth that it held was only providing you extra pleasure. "Such a gorgeous pussy, tightening up all around me like that," he babbled, your mouth contorting into an 'o' the faster he thrusted into you. His heavy balls slapped against your pussy every time he went inside, the angle allowing for them to hit your clit.

You brought your hand down to your clit, rubbing small circles around the nub as he thrusted into you, his pace unrelenting. While you had expected for this to be an exchange of love between the two of you, it turned out to be the result of just sheer desperation for one another. You didn't mind it though, not with the way that your back was arching as you pushed your ass back into him. You felt your vision start to blur from the tears streaming down your cheeks, his claws slightly digging into your ass. The pain contorted with the pleasure, the coil inside of you threatening to snap with how tight it was becoming.

He brought his foot up on the bed, the new angle allowing for him to hit your g-spot every time his cock went back inside of you. Your nails were digging into the sheets, your forehead covered in sweat as he fucked deeper and faster into you. "Oh fffuck, right there. Please don't stop, I'm so close," you whimpered out, your mind completely blank from anything but just coming around his cock. Your walls clamped around him tightly, the coil inside of you snapping once your walls unclenched. Your juices coated his shaft completely, some of it dripping down to the silk underneath the two of you. Miguel continued to thrust into you as he fucked you through the orgasm, his thrusts starting to get sloppy and more vigorous.

His cum painted your walls white as he came, his seed shooting deep into your cervix with the hope that you'd end up bearing his child soon. He took his cock out of your pussy, looking at your blissed out expression through the mirror before turning you over. He leaned down, giving you a small kiss on the lips when you felt his cock already starting to harden up once more for the second round. "I did say I was gonna fuck you dumb, mi amor," he whispered, his lips coming down to your neck as he sucked on the skin there.

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kquil · 27 days

Text

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS

+ MOODBOARD IMAGINES

SET. : in between chapter 3 and chapter 4

LENGTH : 3.4k

A/N : do you darlings remember this (↓) moodboard? well, i thought it would be a good idea to write the scenarios i featured in it just cause... hehe~ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope you darlings enjoy the read!

On his break, Sirius has a routine, one that involves lighting a cigarette. Usually he would have the decency to step outside but his schedule was stressful for the day and all he really wanted to do was just sit by an open window, slumped into a chair smoking his cigarette until there was nothing left to smoke. Thankfully the rest of the work day wasn’t going to be as packed so he could finally start taking it easy.

Grey eyes drifting over to the clock on the wall, Sirius hums thoughtfully. Almost lunch time. He’ll need to cut his smoke break short if he wants to have enough time for a decent lunch. It’s another ritualistic practice for him to not pack anything for lunch; he was a horrible cook and usually prioritises sleeping in over eating breakfast and preparing a lunch, it’s the same for James and Remus too. Thankfully there’s a pretty good fish and chip shop down the street. Or maybe he could get a medium pizza for himself at the pizza local place? Maybe get a large pizza for the whole group?

Propping his ankle up onto his opposite knee, Sirius drags a slow breath in and waits a moment before releasing the smoke. He tries to aim the fumes out the window as much as possible but the air is a fickle thing and stubbornly lingered around him. Nevertheless, he takes the time to admire the swirling fumes, artistic and free to take any form they so pleased. It was one of the small pleasures in smoking that he could bask in.

“Siri–!” Sirius promptly snaps out of his daze with your call and the opening of the break room door. One step into the room and you were already having a coughing fit. Hurrying to stand, Sirius smothers his cigarette in an ashtray and reaches for a nearby folder of generic designs to fan the smoke out of the open window.

“You okay there, sweets?” he calls, brows furrowed into a concerned crease as he watches your struggle for air slowly calm.

“I-I’m okay,” another slight cough slips past your lips despite the assurance, “sorry for disturbing you,” as most of the smoke escapes the room, pliant to Sirius’ frenetic fanning, you manage a small smile that he shyly returns, ashamed of his inconsiderate actions. Though he truly didn’t anticipate you returning to the shop. His shame doesn’t linger for long, however as he keeps the window open and makes his way over with open arms, pulling you into an embrace.

“What a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here, Doll?” he looks down at you, admiring your sweet face as it scrunches up in slight distaste and his heart drops. What’s upset his sweetheart?

“Y-you smell like cigarettes…” you utter without a single thought and immediately clasp your hands over your mouth, muffling a gasp of realisation. That was so rude!

“Shit–”

“I-I’m so sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean to be ru–” but your apology was cut short when the tattoo artist steps away and begins pulling his shirt over his head and hurries about the room, looking for something.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he gives up on his search and turns to you with a bashful smile, his toned torso and idiosyncratic tattoos on full display. Your mind goes completely blank as you admire the chiselled contours of his muscles and the beautiful tattoos that decorate his skin.

“U-uhh…”

“I guess I’ll have to ask James if he has a spare shirt or something…” muttering to himself, Sirius looks up and finally catches your eye, immediately noticing your admiring gaze. Naturally, a devilish smirk tugs at his lips, “or not~”

He has the face of an angel and the body of a jock with the eyes and lips of a demon.

Over time, you’ve come to visit the boys at their parlour more often and the guilt of distracting them from their work has chewed away at you. They were always quick to say that they adore having you around the parlour so your discouragement quickly dissipates. Nevertheless, you wanted to do good by them and started going on snack duties, not only to provide refreshments for them but also for their clients.

As a group and as a business, they agreed it would be a good investment to provide complimentary food and drink for their clients and themselves; getting tattoos was just as exhausting as giving them, especially for the big order clients. Therefore each room was fitted with a mini fridge and basket to host an array of snacks and beverages for anyone to have as they pleased.

The accumulated bill cost a pretty penny but one that the boys were willing to pay, they even managed to strike a deal with the vegan specialty store across the street to provide their best snacks for customers as a form of free advertising. It warmed your heart but it didn’t come close to the butterflies you felt when you found that the boys were first attracted to the shop for their regular donations to a local dog shelter.

You just came back from your trip over to help restock the fridges and snack baskets in each room. Remus was manning the front desk and handling clients and prospective customers. There was a stack of paperwork piled up next to him so he could multitask and stay preoccupied when there was a lull in business.

Meanwhile, Sirius was tending to a client and their massive back tattoo. You remember him telling you that this was just their second session and that he still had one or two more sessions left to go. You managed to slip in and out of the room without distracting him or his client too much; both were very busy, except for the emotional-support friend the client had brought along, who appreciated the restock of snacks and raided the stash even as you were restocking. The two of you giggled at that together as Sirius chuckled under his breath, shouting an appreciative ‘thank you’ while his client grumbled playfully, apologetic about their glutton of a friend. Their interaction made you giggle while slipping out the door and making your way to James' room - you don’t believe he’s with a client right now so you weren’t as anxious over potentially disturbing his flow. Though he was expecting one to arrive soon, according to his calendar.

“Snacks restock,” you call through the door with a knock before stepping inside.

“Thanks, angel,” James was in an all-black attire today. Black jeans, heavy leather Doc Martens and a black, compression shirt that accentuated his slim waist, broad shoulders and sculpted muscles. That along with his black latex gloves and the beautiful collage of tattoos weaving up his forearms stops you in place. It’s undeniable how attractive these men are but, as James sits in his artist chair, posture relaxed but oozing with confidence, dressed like sin with his boyish grin and adorable round glasses on, an antithesis to his dangerous attire, you stop in your tracks and stutter embarrassingly. It has to be illegal how divine he looks right now…

Using the wheels and mobility of his artist chair, James moves to sit before you as he examines the contents of your bag through the opening at the top and mutters about which ones he’s eyeing for himself. However, your stock-still, frozen figure doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s soon staring up at you. His hazel eyes shine with curiosity and thinly veiled mischief.

“Something wrong, Angel?” the pleasant drawl of his voice draws you from your obvious daydreaming and you’re stuttering out a pathetic, incoherent answer as he chuckles quietly, “Have you fallen for me?~”

The fucking tease!

It’s a hot summer day and Remus was sweating buckets up in the office. The heat was torturous and he silently begged for the winter cold to rush back with an icy fever, his desperation for a cool breeze evident in his dishevelled state.

It was common for James and Sirius to go around topless in their shameless, over-confident ways but Remus was stubborn about keeping a shirt on. They had been warned about the rising heat thanks to earlier weather warnings but preparing with a breezy linen button up wasn’t enough for Remus to keep to his strict dress code. For once, you were seeing him half-naked (almost) and like you were with Sirius and James the first time they surrendered to the heat, you stood in shock as an additional heat tormented your cheeks.

You didn’t know what to expect.

Clearly James was the muscular one of the three, Sirius was skinny but it didn’t mean he didn’t have any muscle – his arms and abs were especially defined, his thighs too, probably from his motorcycle. Remus was tall so, as the stereotype went, you didn’t expect him to have much muscle definition. However, as he laid back in his seat, his linen shirt unbuttoned but still tucked into his trousers and draped over his broad shoulders, you’re able to observe significant definition in his chest and the ridges of washboard-abs along his torso. Your eyes almost bulge out when you see the cuts of a V leading into his crotch area.

Remus despaired over feeling like a sweat-drenched dog, foul-smelling and unsightly with clumpy, sweaty hair when, in actuality, he couldn’t look better. Ths sweat made his skin glisten and helped keep his hair pushed back in the most attractive way. With his head slumped backward, his adam’s apple prominent, his tattoos on full display along the toned expanse of his torso, Remus looked heavenly. Especially with the sun shine pouring in from the open window and showering him in specs of gold.

So caught up in your silent admiration, you don’t notice when Remus peeks one eye open and spots you with a soft smile.

“You alright there, Dove?” he asks, chuckling as he sees the exact moment you were brought back to the present, “I see you’ve gotten my water for me,”

“Oh! Y-yeah,” you shyly walk up to him and hand over the chilled bottle of water from the mini fridge downstairs.

“You really are an angel,” he accepts the bottle and kisses the knuckles of your hand in thanks before taking a thirsty gulp. His sweet action of gratitude makes you want to squeal out loud but you bite your lip, not wanting to expose yourself. It was already embarrassing enough having to be caught staring.

It was then, however, that you took notice of a small, faded tattoo that didn’t match the gallery of inky art collaging Remus’ torso, “That tattoo looks different,” you say without thinking as you point towards the slightly faded crescent moon on Remus’ chest.

“Oh!” Remus chuckles and caresses his inked skin gently, fondness swimming in his chocolate-pool eyes, “This one is quite special actually,”

“Really?”

He nods and launches into the story when observing the curious look in your eyes, “When the guys and I finally graduated secondary school, we all got drunk off our asses and went to a hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlour to commemorate the occasion,” you both share a laugh at their reckless but typical behaviour as teenagers, “each of us got a silly little tattoo and the next day, when we were hungover, half-naked in James’ room – James on the floor, Sirius in the bathtub of his ensuite and me leaning against his bookcase, nobody on the bed –” you both laugh again, “we all found out we got different tattoos and from that, came our nicknames,”

You brows raise in interest, “You mean–”

“I have a moon so I’m ‘Moony’,” Remus confirms as your eyes sparkle with delight, a sight that Remus adores more than he’d ever admit aloud, “Sirius got a dog paw–”

“So that’s why you call him ‘Padfoot’, makes sense. What about James?”

“A stag head so he’s–”

“Prongs!” you cheer and giggle at finally discovering the reason behind their peculiar nicknames. It all made so much more sense now!

“My Angel calls for me?~” James’ voice sings through the door before he’s sauntering in and opening his arms, expecting you to fall willingly into them. It was tempting, considering he was shirtless and you’d love nothing more than to be held against his muscles but today was already swelteringly hot so you politely decline, to which smug expression James’ drops into that of a pitiful puppy’s.

It’s not a secret that the boys adore you, not only were you kind and sweet and the prettiest little thing they’ve ever laid their eyes on but you also cook like an absolute angel and they can never get enough, especially when compared to their own mediocre cooking skills. After being spoiled by you so often, they can no longer fathom eating their own inferior cuisine. They’ve expressed this to you multiple times so, whenever you could, you would cook dinner for them and you’d all eat together at their flat. It usually happened over the weekend and they always offered to pay for the ingredients needed.

Tonight, you had something special in mind to cook for them but weren’t well stocked on ingredients so it was agreed that Sirius would pick you up on his bike when you were finished shopping at the store. You made sure to text the tattooist a predicted time for when you would be finished with your shopping, remaining faithful to your shopping list so that you didn’t keep him waiting too long out in the overcast, chilly weather. Typical England.

Hurrying to get past self check out, you smile at the singular bag of ingredients you held in your hand, excited to spoil the boys with another night of good food. You aren’t shy in admitting how attractive Sirius was but it was unfair how sultry he looked when on his bike, wearing his all-black, leather outfit, his huge helmet and fingerless gloves. The many eyes eating him up were evidence enough of his ethereal beauty. And with his helmet on too. Perhaps it was the mystery of who he was behind the mask that these strangers fawned over him so much. You couldn’t fault them though, you would be the same in their shoes.

Having made this trip multiple times already, you recognised him and his bike in an instant.. Behind the visor of his helmet, Sirius suppresses an affectionate coo over how you visibly perk up when your eyes land on him. There was no need for sun when Sirius had your smile to light up his day.

“You good, Doll?” Sirius’ voice comes out muffled by his helmet as he dismounts his bike and opens up the storage compartment under the seat. He exchanges the spare helmet stored in the hidden compartment for the bag of groceries in your hand, “You got everything?”

“Yeah, thanks for waiting, Siri!”

You don’t see it but he smiles happily at the sound of your twinkling voice, “No worries, Doll,” he mounts the bike once more and takes it off it’s stand, “hop on,”

At this point, he expected you to be able to put your helmet on by yourself but he doesn’t account for the slight delay as you make sure it’s fitted over your head properly. Unable to help himself, Sirius waits leaning forward with his hand propping his head up as his elbow rests on the body of his bike. The stance makes him look as though he was admiring you like some lovestruck, teenage boy. When you catch sight of him after finally getting your helmet on, you laugh and throw your head back with the movement but end with placing your hands on your hips - scolding his actions, almost, although it was all in good fun. His response was to blow you a kiss by, first, touching his fingers to the front of his helmet and then laying his hand flat towards you.

You clutch at your stomach to contain the giggles as your shoulders shake before finally deciding to play along and return the gesture, imitating a flying kiss that he catches and holds to his chest. Whenever the helmet was put on, the two of you always got into the habit of exaggerating your movements seeing as your facial expressions were obscured. But that mask gives you two such confidence that you’re more comfortable with being flirtatious with each other.

You don’t complain but it makes your heart thump with want and a desire you were too afraid to fulfil.

“Sirius loves his bike,” Remus explains, “and James loves his car,” both men were too distracted taking maintenance of their respective vehicles to listen to Remus’ explanation of their attentiveness. It was the weekend and you had arranged to have Remus keep you accountable for completing your upcoming essay. At some point, you two join James and Sirius in the garage as they do the regular checks of their beloved ‘rides’. Their vigilant focus as they mill about the engines and operations of their car and bike were a great motivator for completing your essay and now that you’ve finished, you observe them in their element.

Both men had their muscular, tattooed arms on full display, clad in only their tight tank tops, ones that already had stains to begin with so they didn’t mind staining more as their fingers blackened with motor residue.

“What do you love, Remus?” you ponder, needing a distraction from the beguiling display before you but also curious. Did Remus have a secret love for a particular motor vehicle like the other two as well? You were beyond curious, although you couldn’t think of any other motor vehicle he would likely obsess over.

“Can’t say,” the tall brunette shrugs, subtly peering down at you from his higher vantage point, “I’m pretty sure those two love it just as much as I do so it won’t count,” his answer leaves you curious but he doesn’t elaborate further. Was he talking about a motor vehicle or something else entirely?

Giggling beside Remus, you watch the exchange unfold before you with amused eyes and a warm smile hidden behind your fingers. Seeing James and/or Sirius become whiny and pouty wasn’t an everyday occurrence but it happened often enough that you were used to their shenanigans and didn’t give in as easily as you used to, especially with Remus at your side to keep the boys in check. Such as right now. If it weren’t for Remus, you’re sure James and Sirius would have continued to whine and throw a strop until their clients got impatient, left and then proceeded to write a very passionate review about the lack of service. Thankfully, the piercer shooed them away as efficiently as always, reminding the two of their responsibilities and scheduled patrons.

“Stupid Moony,” James mutters under his breath as he walks away with Sirius, “...always getting Angel all to himself…”

As soon as the two are out of sight, Remus takes his usual seat behind the front desk and pulls out a small paperback book to keep him occupied. With warm eyes directed at you, he smiles and asks, “would you like to join me for a good read, Dove?” as he speaks, he brings his hand down to rest on his thigh and, with your reeling mind, you mistake the gesture for an invitation that you couldn’t refuse.

Remus never expected you to look so adorable when approaching to sit with him for a read at the register but, other than that, he never expected you to sit on his thigh. You didn’t meet his eyes at first so you didn’t see his shocked state or the creeping grin tugging up the corners of his lips.

It was embarrassing but this isn’t the first time the boys had you sit in their laps. This was just the first time you were made to sit on your own accord. You don’t think your embarrassment could get any more drastic, however, until you finally look up to see the surprised look on Remus’ face and finally realise your mistake.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry!”

He laughs at how adorable you are and winds his strong arm around your waist before you could even attempt to hop off his thigh.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” unable to resist, Remus presses a soft kiss against your temple and pulls you even closer to him, “you’re welcome to use me as a seat anytime,” he smiles adoringly at your bashful demeanour, “in fact, I encourage it,”

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N : for those of you that don't know, the moodboard was requested by my darling moot @diputy on my 1k milestone event (now closed) but if you're curious, here are the links to the event and the request masterlist : 1k EVENT | 1k MLIST

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

#poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #poly marauders x you #poly marauders imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders #poly!marauders #hit series #hit series : +imagines #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders

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itsbuckytm · 4 months

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Envy and Passion (Pt. 2) / Coriolanus Snow.

summary : this moving forward, the romantic affair of Coriolanus and you began to blossomed ever seen its first meet. with a envy for lust and power, snow is relcontless to make you officially his. with a gesture not so normal, and to perhaps have your father finally accept the two love bird's relationship.

read part one first!! : part one

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you.

Your involvement with Coriolanus Snow persisted, concealed from your father who remained oblivious to the situation. Fortunately, Snow chose to invest a significant amount of time with you in the laboratory. This arrangement included the opportunity to assist him directly under the guidance of Dr. Gaul herself. Surprisingly, it never posed a challenge for either of you. Whenever Snow felt a desire or yearned to intertwine his warm fingers with your cold skin, he didn't hesitate to express it openly, especially when you pleaded with him to do so.

"Speak it aloud." He would insist, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the stark contrast of your dark pupils. He found this juxtaposition oddly unsettling yet captivating, especially as you exuded confidence despite the complete reversal of your family's name. Which contrasted oddly well, when you presented yourself before Snow, adopting a submissive demeanor, he ensured not to overlook it. "Say that you desire me." He commanded, and in that instant, his voice deepened. The soft gaze that he had employed earlier to pause shifted into something more intense, with his eyebrows furrowing, expressing a mix of dignity, pride, and a hunger solely for you.

Every time Snow expressed his feelings and unwavering commitment, a warmth would spread across your cheeks. "I desire you, Snow." You confessed, feeling palpitations resonating throughout your entire body, experiencing emotions previously unfamiliar to you. Despite your father's strict measures to ensure you remained free from romantic entanglements, the fear of him discovering your involvement with Snow loomed over you. Uttering Snow's name could potentially lead to punishment for both of you. However, in the present moment, neither of you cared about the potential consequences, dismissing any concerns about possible repercussions.

Upon your confession and Snow's acceptance of your words, he reveled in the opportunity to explore every inch of your skin visible to his eyes alone. Your gentle touch on his blouse, revealing a glimpse of his chest, was met with amusement as you feigned clumsiness, as if he hadn't witnessed it before. Chuckling at your playful act, he remarked. "You know, if you were eager to see me shirtless, you could have asked from the very beginning." Despite the confidence instilled by your father, your shyness intrigued Snow. It fascinated him to witness a strong, independent woman like yourself, who, despite her confidence, found herself pleading at his mercy. And he wasn't complaining one bit.

"All I want is to wait for the perfect moment." Was your simple declaration. Yet, Snow, with his deceptive and unconvincing response to your second confession, couldn't help but see through the charade. He knew all too well that it wasn’t just a matter of time. This realization felt somewhat absurd to him, considering that from the very start of your love affair, it was you who ensured that your skin was exposed. This time around, despite the temptation to witness another captivating display, he found himself yearning for you to admire him, to experience the same emotions he felt whenever your eyes met his. “How about we change a little bit?”

"Change?" Your brows furrowed this time, a mix of confusion, anticipation, and eagerness, curious about what Snow had in store. After all, Snow was known for his penchant for surprises. It wasn't a coincidence that both of you were selected as Dr. Gaul's personally chosen students for her mentoring. Dr. Gaul was well aware of your relationship, and if it served to prolong the Hunger Games, she had a keen understanding of how to maintain loyalty between you and Snow. Whether the connection was romantic or not mattered little to her; as long as the two of you were working and following orders, Dr. Gaul was pleased.

Snow reached for your fingers, and as they entwined with his, he motioned for you to sit on his lap. You complied effortlessly, well aware that whenever Snow needed a break from paperwork while maintaining focus, a call for you to be on his lap was a common occurrence. It served as a distraction, allowing him to immerse himself in the scent of your presence. Despite his internal struggle to control his obsession and resist the urge to engage in more intimate activities right there on his desk, the desire to hear your submissive murmurings and witness your eyes fixated on him alone was always tempting. However, today presented a deviation from the norm. As you settled onto his lap, his back comfortably resting against the chair, his fingers intertwined with yours, prompting to unbutton his blouse, you could only utter. "Oh..." In disbelief at his prompt actions.

"Oops, I guess a few buttons slipped," Snow playfully admitted, revealing the subtle nature of his game. While he made it seem like his own oversight, the fact that your fingers remained intertwined with his suggested that he was not entirely innocent. It conveyed that, even if he were eager to take the blame, you were not hesitant to make his chest slightly visible. However, for Snow, it wasn't merely about a brief glimpse of his chest. He intended to shed everything – from blouse to coat – without hesitation, relishing the opportunity to hear the gasps and disapproval echoing from your own father.

A blush tinted your features, the same blush that had adorned your face during the reaping ceremony. It was a blush Snow relished, a sign that he was gaining complete control over you. Without hesitation, he took it upon himself to unbutton his entire blouse with a single hand. "It's getting a little hot, isn't it?" He casually remarked, using it as an excuse and subtly suggesting you might want to do the same if it pleased you. However, you resisted the urge to swiftly follow suit, observing as Snow confidently removed both his blouse and coat in one fluid motion. As you could’ve sworn to feel your teeth sinking the bottom of your lip. The tension between the two of you became apparent now. He wanted you. And you wanted him.

Before he proceeded, his fingers gently disentangled from yours, trailing along your thighs as your short skirt revealed more skin, much to his satisfaction. He couldn't resist brushing it against your lips, a desire he had been suppressing since he first laid eyes on you that morning. With genuine affection, he admired the skirt he loved so much, especially paired with the Academy's uniform blouse you had deliberately made a little looser this time. He took notice when he observed your cleavage being more pronounced that very same day.

"You can't fathom how much I've yearned to taste you. Don't pretend to be innocent, Princess. It's our little game, you know." Our Little Game. He declared, and the words echoed in your mind. However, in the midst of numerous affairs and the expression of feelings, the certainty of whether he genuinely meant it, whether his love for you was real, or if uttering your name was merely a distraction to maintain his sanity, became increasingly elusive. "Then, demonstrate your love for me.” You challenged. Without a moment's hesitation, your words caught him off guard, almost offended. "After everything I've done for you?" He countered.

You felt his lips brushed against yours, temptation of not wanting to kiss you on the spot. While you challenged him such deal, he became almost too offended by your question. Was it even obvious? Snow became a little persistent, and with his piercing blue eyes never leaving it’s gaze now his eyes began darker. Darker as his gaze became aware of his need for you. A need of you becoming his officially. And today, it was one of the few occasions he could at least do. “I will.”

His fingers delicately cradled your face, exhibiting a hunger to explore and savor every inch of your skin exclusively reserved for him. Starting with your lips, he pressed his plump lips against yours, reveling in the intoxicating taste of your cherry balm that drove him to the brink of insanity. This obsession was so profound that whenever he encountered a blossoming Cherry Tree, it inevitably reminded him of you. Not stopping there, he proceeded to confidently grip your backside, causing your loose skirt to flutter up. The chill from the brisk lab air made you flinch in response to the sudden exposure.

"Mine. Mine." His voice grew rougher, a tone that required a certain adaptation on your part. Your head tilted backward as you felt his lips trail down the crook of your neck, an area he longed to adorn with endless pampering and marks that, at least, could be concealed. Today, however, he made sure they were visible, intended to stoke the fires of your father's entire disdain. "Mine until the break of dawn." He declared, feeling the friction between cloth and underwear intensify, causing his arousal to surge. Snow could no longer contain himself when your soft fingers journeyed from his immaculate chest to the zipper of his pants. In a mere second, as you unzipped them, you teasingly grasped his now fully erect member and gently stroked it, bringing him undeniable pleasure.

"If you truly mean it." You approached him with a hint of seduction, taking control of the situation. In this game of chess, Snow had anticipated that one day the tables would turn, and today seemed to be that day. "Make love to me like you've never done before. Make me moan until the sounds echo through the entire lab, risking the chance of getting caught." To Snow's surprise, he tilted his head upon hearing your bold words, realizing that the desire you expressed mirrored his own. This opportunity was rare, the only time both of you could be together. If it wasn't for your father's protection; you would feel ashamed if he were to catch a glimpse of the two of you right now. Yet, love has a way of blinding reason.

“And make your father know, to who you belong to. Princess.” He lingered with a loving and lust of wanted to fuck you. This time although he enjoyed a quickie, he wanted to make it an experience for you, whether it was sloppy or messy. It did not mattered for the both of you, as long as Snow showed and declared his entire love for you. It was all it mattered.

After the surprisingly enjoyable encounter, you suddenly realized the time and the fact that you had completely forgotten about a meeting with Dr. Gaul and your father regarding the Hunger Games. You began to panic. "Shit, I'm going to be late!" You exclaimed, and Snow found it oddly cute, especially since you rarely used such language in public. "Don't forget this." Even though Snow was well aware of what he was doing, you hastily grabbed anything resembling a uniform. As long as you had your skirt back on, along with the coat and blouse, it should be enough to avoid arousing suspicion. Thankfully, with your hair strategically covering the hickeys, you managed to arrive late to the meeting, running at full speed without raising any eyebrows.

Upon finally arriving, you seized the chance to catch your breath, fortunate that your father and everyone else attending the meeting were engrossed in Dr. Gaul's presentation. However, upon laying eyes on you, she couldn't help but voice concern about your uniform. "Y/N, my dear. What is this monstrosity?" Swiftly, your father's gaze shifted to you, taking note of the alteration in your uniform. The blouse, that delicately hugging your curves, now appeared slightly larger, evident in your fingers poking through its sleeves. It became glaringly obvious that it wasn't yours but Snow's. You found yourself in a deeper mess. Vaguely recalling seeing Snow casually blending his blouse with yours before leaving, you realized it was another way for him to mark you as his own—a subtle yet effective gesture, particularly if it meant provoking your father into a boiling rage.

"And where might Snow be? He was supposed to be invited to this meeting as well," Dr. Gaul expressed her suspicion. Although you attempted to ignore your father's disapproving gaze, well aware of his concerns and mentoring about his feelings regarding Snow, you were preoccupied by Snow's unexpected actions. You weren't certain if he was indeed coming or intentionally delaying his arrival to avoid raising suspicion, only to later excuse himself for being late and have Dr. Gaul overlook his absence. “I didn’t know Snow was invited for today’s meeting…” Was all you could say, which wasn’t entirely false.

Dismissing her concern for Snow, she accepted your response. Despite being already aware of the possible relationship between the two of you, she simply smiled at you and suggested you join the audience. As you took a seat next to your father, he noticed your arrival. Quite annoyed at least. “Next time, try to cover the marks in your neck. For the love of god, Y/N.” Shit, your father had spot Snow’s hickeys. If it wasn’t to make it worse even noticed the slight change in your cheeks as it was still showing a flushed and pink shade from the climax you had encountered prior with Snow. Instead to not disrupt any further you obliged and apologize like the good daughter you were meant to be. “It will never happen again, I promise.” But did you?

As anticipated, Snow arrived late. Fortunately, he had the foresight to bring an extra blouse, fully intending to have you wear one of his. The expression on your father's face when he noticed the unconventional attire was exactly what Snow had anticipated. Doing his best to catch his breath after rushing to the meeting, he excused himself, saying, "Sorry, I am late." Dr. Gaul acknowledged his presence and gestured for him to sit next to you. A proud smile adorned Snow's face as he witnessed the exact expression he had expected from your father.

“Loving the uniform, sweetheart.” He casually said, whispering to your ear this time before quickly gaining his attention back to him but also making sure that you were aware of his meschibiosu little guess.

"Shut up, Snow." He hoped to hear from you as you were about to speak up. Instead, it was your father's voice that uttered those words upon realizing that it wasn't, in fact, your uniform all this time but Snow's. Anticipating a response from you after your father's remark, Snow waited, but instead, Casca continued. "Just be a little more secretive next time."

To your surprise, you glanced over at your father, intending to defend yourself. However, a mere gaze from him conveyed the unspoken message that if you attempted to object, he would ensure an end to the relationship. Despite his unwillingness to witness his daughter's unhappiness due to her father's unwarranted bias against the Snow family, he held on to the hope that, at the very least, Coriolanus Snow wasn't akin to his own father. Or... was your father not entirely wrong?

"We will."

Snow's voice lingered in the crook of your neck, indicating his satisfaction with your father's newfound approval of the relationship. Finally, he felt unburdened, no longer afraid to proudly show the world that you were his and his alone.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow #coryo #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagiens #hunger games imagines

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springcourtrose · 2 months

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Please, stop... | Part 1

Pairing: Helion x reader (x Nessian)

Warnings: abusive relationship and descriptions of SA - MINORS DNI

Prompt: you’re Nesta and Cassian’s mate and yet you are so different from them. From day 1 you tried to be a good mate and do as they wanted and liked but they like it rough and you just don’t. Not only is it not enjoyable for you it is actually painful. And not just in bed. You always excused their behavior as being overprotective but recently you started calling it something else: controlling. And one night, all changed as you uttered the words you had tried so hard never to say, but always thinking if you ever did they would listen. But they didn’t. And that night, everything broke.

(A/N: it's my first time writing for ACOTAR - English isn't my first language)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Please, stop.

You couldn't remember exactly how many times you had said it. It hadn't mattered. You weren't sure if they just didn't hear you or didn't care. You couldn't bring yourself to think they had just ignored it, ignored you. But you didn't know if the alternative was better. Maybe they just didn't care.

You cried and Nesta called you a brat. You asked them to stop the first time and Cassian shoved his large cock down your throat to shut you up.

You had almost passed out then. Not because of the way you were choking on his hard length but because you had asked them to stop and they hadn't listened. They had ignored you. They had kept going.

You were crying and begging and it just didn't register. Like it didn't matter. Like you didn't matter. All that mattered was them and their pleasure.

They had gone to bed after they were done, leaving you to care for yourself. And it was then, when you were sitting in that cold bath alone, that you realized. Your mates didn't love you. They loved each other, but you were nothing more than a sex toy to them. You who had tried so hard to be a good mate. Nesta had called you a brat and a bad girl. You who had tried so hard to please them and give them whatever they wanted. It hadn't mattered. They would have taken it anyway, no matter what you wanted.

Your heart broke. You wondered if they felt it through the bond. They didn't stir from their sleep.

You silently exited the bath and put on clean clothes. You packed lightly and quietly and didn't look back at your mates before stepping out of the bedroom.

You went to Azriel, because you really didn't have any other choice. Azriel never asked too many questions. It was as much a quality as it was a flaw. That first time he saw your bruised neck for example, he didn't say a thing. Nor did he mention it the second time, or inquire after your well being the third time. He never asked. Because it wasn't his business. But Mor never mentioned it either. Neither did Feyre or Rhys. Your friends, your family. They all had seen it at one point or another. The bruises. The look in your eyes. The flinching when either of your mate raised their voices or got anywhere close to you.

Nesta and Cassian like it rough. That was the end of it.

Azriel brought a dagger to your throat as you approached him. That didn't surprise you. You apologized for waking him up and asked him if he could do you a favor, no questions asked. You weren't sure he would. His loyalties would remain with Cassian. But, maybe it was the look in your eyes, maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the bruises, or the sound of your broken and desperate voice, but when you asked him to bring you to the Day Court in the middle of the night, he had just looked at you and your packed bag for a few seconds, then silently nodded.

Helion wasn't mad you had his guards wake him up at 2AM. No, Helion was concerned. Even more so when he saw you. You knew you probably looked exactly like you felt. Like complete and utter shit.

Helion had always been nice to you. What was there not to like? You were smart, gentle, caring and beautiful. You had similar interests and powers and had become good friends while doing some research with his healers when you were looking for a way to help Feyre when she was pregnant with Nyx.

Helion had become a true friend. The only one you had left after Nesta and Cassian had restricted your outings so much your old friends had more or less forgotten about you.

Helion made you feel safe. You had nowhere else to go.

He opened his mouth, but you spoke first.

"I request asylum."

Both males stilled. Your small and weak voice broke as you said the words but they had heard you loud and clear. You had never seen Azriel so surprise. You wondered if he would try and take you back to the Night Court by force.

"What?" was all Helion managed to say.

"I ask for refuge in your court, please," you said, voice trembling, tears filling your eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, hurrying towards you, checking you for any injury, eyeing you from head to toe, noticing the bruises on your face and neck.

"Please," you begged, falling apart, your knees giving up on you as you collapsed at his feet.

He knelt before you, taking you in his arms.

"What happened?" he asked again, but not to you.

Azriel's face was grave. He knew exactly what had happened. You'd had enough. You'd reached your breaking point. Like he knew this would happen. And yet he had done nothing.

You were sobbing in the High Lord's arms and he embraced you gently, running a hand up and down your back.

"Please," your voice nothing but a whisper. "I request asylum."

Helion's eyes landed on Azriel once more and the High Lord's silence had you panic.

"Please!"

"Granted," he said and you fell apart once more.

You buried your face in his lap, letting your cries and tears flow out of you. Helion looked at Azriel like he would tear him apart, as if he were the one who had hurt you.

"Y/N is now under the protection of my court. Inform your High Lord as soon as possible."

Azriel paused, as if considering not leaving you here, no doubt thinking about his brother, your mate. But, eventually, he nodded.

"Take care of her," was all he said before he vanished.

And as the spymaster disappeared, leaving you behind, your broken cries filled the halls of the Day Court.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #helion x reader #nessian x reader #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #azriel #helion #rhysand #rhys #rhys x feyre #Feyre x rhys

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spiderlyla · 3 months

Text

amable [gentle] (fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara):

cw: oral sex (f!receiving), praising kink, hair-pulling (miguel loves getting his hair pulled), make-up sex, overstimulation, p in v.

you can't for the life of you remember what made you so mad. all you remember is that you had a shitty fucking day. the entire day was nothing but a series of unfortunate events stringed together one after the other. first, on your walk to work, you were splashed with water from a speeding car that had stepped into a puddle, that you had to walk back home for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

you were obviously reprimanded by your boss for being late, and if that wasn't annoying enough, he had you re-do work for a colleague that had slacked off and then went on a vacation before anyone could revise what he'd done thoroughly. you were stuck almost all day in the office, bickering with men who wouldn't listen and doing work that wasn't yours. then just when you let your guard down as you were going home, one of your (extremly insistent) male co-workers offered to walk you.

he was so talkative, and so awfully flirty that he kept hitting on you all the way home. it is safe to say you were never this glad to see your apartment building before. all you wanted now was a nice hot meal and some peace and queit. that was apparently too much to ask for. your boyfriend came home a little early, bubbling with anger. it was evident on his features, his furrowed thick brows, his narrowed crimson eyes, the scowl on his lips.

"Why didn't you call me to come get you?" He shut the balcony door behind him, his spider-suit glitching, getting replaced by his regular attire, consisting of a black button up shirt and dress pants. "What are you talking about?"

"He walked you, ese idiota. What was it?Frank? Fred?" He made his way to where you were in the kitchen, you could see how angry he truly was, his fangs protruding just in the slightest, any hints of brown in his eyes completely taken over by the crimson swirling in them. "Fred, yeah. I told him no, mig, but he was really nagging me and I was already having a shit day, I didn't have the energy to tell him off."

"I could've come and get you myself. Why didn't you call me?" You were starting to get upset, you couldn't really handle any of this right now. "Because you were probably busy, Miguel. You always are, I don't call you because you're probably off saving some other universe that walking me home has got to be the last thing on the list of your worries." You brush past him, and follows you, face contorting with all sorts of emotions. "Aye, carino, you know I would've dropped it all if I knew that that pelotudo was gonna be with you."

"Oh, so there has to be another guy in the equation for you to pick me up? That's the only time it's valid to call you?"

Miguel frowns, confusion settling in as you try to avoid his touch everytime he tried to pull you towards him. "That's not what I meant." His eyes softened as he realised how stressed out and bothered you look, concern washing over his features. "¿Estás bien, amor? Te ves realmente—" [Are you okay, love? You look really—]

"Fuck—no, Miguel, I'm not okay!" You snap, frowning up at him. "I'm having a really shitty day, and I just—I need to be alone, okay?" He takes a step back, his surprised expression faltering to a neutral pokerface. "Yeah, okay." Your heart clenchs all of a sudden as you watch him walk away, and press a few icons on his gizmo, but to your utter surprise, a portal doesn't appear, his clothes change to a much more comfortable fit of a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. He walks off to his office, leaving you all alone in the living room.

You know it's not fair, snapping at him like this just because you had a bad day. You spend the next hour eating in silence, then as soon as your done, you make your way to the office. Hesitantly, you knock, and you hear Miguel beckoning you to come in.

He is sitting at his desk, monitor screens floating all around him, their orange hue filling the entire room. He looks up at you through the frames of his glasses, setting down the file in his hand when you approach him. Awkwardly, you stand infront of him with your hands infront of you, much like a child who's gotten into trouble and is too sheepish to admit it. He stands up, and suddenly you fling yourself at him, arms wrapping around his waist in a firm grip.

He lets out a slight chuckle, and pulls you into his chest, like he'd expected this to happen. You look up at him, the stress of the entire day and the guilt you felt from snapping at your boyfriend accumulating into tears brimming in your eyes. " 'm sorry, Migs, I didn't mean to–"

"Sh, No estoy molesto, nena." [I'm not upset, baby.]

Being in his arms comforts you, the way he envelopes you so fully, how warm he is was enough to calm your fried nerves. Minutes pass and you don't move from his embrace until he does. One hand remains on your waist, while the other one tilts your head up. He stays queit for a moment, then leans down and presses his lips ever so gently to yours. You gasp at the contact, but quickly kiss him back, your hands travelling up his abdomen to rest on his shoulders. A groan erupts out of him, but he doesn't pull away.

The room gets hot, fast, and if he kept kissing you like this, you were sure you were going to melt. "Mig—"

"How about I take your mind off things tonight..." He whispers, calloused hands running up and down your sides, tracing the curves of your ass. "And you make up for the little outburst you had, hm?"

It takes a moment for you to realise he's speaking to you, and you only notice because he stopped kissing you and your lips tingled, longing for the sensation of his mouth against yours. You nod, dazed and hot that you felt like you're catching a fever.

He hums, amused, his lips ghosting over yours just to tease you. Before you know it, you're on your bed, your clothes long discarded somewhere on the other side of the room, with Miguel buried between your legs, mouth latched to your clit, while his hands kept your legs wide open.

"Ah—Mig, please.." Your hands are in his hair. His beautiful, soft, brown locks. Every time you tugged, he'd let out a loud groan, the sound vibrating and coursing through your entire body. Your legs involuntarily kept moving, the intensity too much for you to bear, but Miguel refused to let you close them, keeping them wide open to give him full access. Everytime you start feeling the knot in your stomach unfurl, Miguel moves away and bites your inner thigh, leaving marks that are only for his eyes to see. "What is it, baby?" His smile is wicked, like he knows what he's doing, like he knows exactly when to stop. "Miguel, n-no more, too much.."

He hums, nodding, then moves up, his lips finding yours immediately. Tasting yourself on his tounge was almost enough to bring you over the edge, just almost.

His tip was right at your entrance, and the anticipation made you want to sink lower just for any type of contact. "Miguel, pleasepleaseplease—"

"Shh, be patient, honey. I'm gonna give you everything you want." He peppers kisses all over your face, his heavy body pressing against you. "You still need to 'be alone', nena?" A soft whine escapes your lips, and you shake your head vigriously. "N-No, need y—Need you, Mig, 'm sorry—"

And just with that, he slides in. It's hot, and so, so filling. Your eyes blow wide, and your legs wrap around his abdomen as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. "Fuck, you're so pretty..." He whispers into the nape of your neck, his fingers lacing with yours. He holds your hand as he starts thrusting, trying to keep you grounded.

Your mind becomes hazy, you could only focus on the sound of his voice and the pleasure brimming and coursing through your entire body.

"Que niña tan linda." [Such a pretty girl.]

"Such—" "—a hardworking—" "—little thing."

"Sólo querías que te follara, ¿verdad?" [You just wanted me to fuck you, right?]

"Don't close your eyes, keep them on me."

Your eyes flutter open to see his own maroon ones staring right back at you. The sight of his damp hair, the sweat beads on his forehead made you clench around him, and that was enough for him to pick up the pace just in the slightest.

His pace is steady, rhythmic. He kisses you, again and again and again. You become hyperaware of him holding your hand, and once he squeezed it, you could only see white.

Once you come down from your high, you notice that you're laying on dry sheets, covered in the fluffiest duvet you have. You feel warm, extremly so, and then you realise Miguel was still right next to you, still peppering small kisses up your shoulder blades.

"There you are." He hums quietly once your eyes lock with his, "Think you fell asleep right away, you were mumbling."

"What was I saying?"

He replies in a matter-of-fact way, mouth still hovering over your arm. "My name. Over and over again."

"It's hard to think about anything else but you after that."

"Hm, then I suppose I did a job well done then."

#lumi talks ♟#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

Note

plug!connie thinks it’s so cute when reader gets jealous. maybe he took her to a party so he could deal and make some moves and some girl tries to flirt with him and reader gets a lil attitude. he snatches her up real good in the bathroom and tells her that he’s only hers and send her off with a kiss, a smack on her ass and a “stop playing with me ma” 🤭

yessss! Y’all know how I feel about plug connie! 😩 so hey! We coming back to all the good requests this week.

cw: !black fem reader, drug mention, public (?) sex, backshots, breeding, choking, aggressive Connie

“We not gone be here long, lemme just go take care of this real quick and I promise we can go somewhere else..” the very sentence that Connie had uttered to you sweetly with a finger underneath your chin as you pulled up to a house party on the outskirts of town. it wasn’t the type of place you’d frequent on your lonesome but this was the life you had gotten used to since being on Springer’s arm. It wasn’t easy being the girl of a drug dealer..even though he tried his hardest to keep you out of his affairs as much as possible, it was sometimes inevitable. The two of you had planned a nice outing; grabbing some food and doing some shopping but that was all but derailed when he got summoned to do a drop. Unlike a DoorDash or Uber, it wasn’t optional..this was mandatory and his lick just so happened to be at this event. Now you found yourself in the midst of a crowded living room, surrounded by girls dancing and doing lines, dudes grinding up on them and knocking back drinks…it was utter chaos! You spotted a couple of familiar faces, even had a shot or two yourself in hopes to loosen up and not look like a complete fly on the wall. You had even begun to dance with a couple girlfriends you had class with and was smiling before long. However, that was all but shattered when you’d go back to your seat and spot your man chopping it up with not only one of his boys but another girl, who seemed to be lingering a little too close. The bad part was, he was smiling and enjoying it! Now you never made it your mission to trip or get jealous..hell, as far as you were concerned, if a nigga wanted to entertain someone else, they could have his ass. But you knew it wasn’t like that with him. He loved you more than anything..so why the hell were you getting so mad?! Maybe because you were being drug to this hellhole after the promise of a nice evening and instead watching some bitch touch all over him. You knew he was taking care of important business so you chose not to interrupt and instead bowed out to a backroom to clear your head. It wasn’t long before he spotted you angrily brushing through the crowd and followed suit. It was only when you found yourself at a bathroom door did you hear him calling out.. “(y/n)! (Y/N)….where you going, baby?” his words met with complete silence as you turned and kept walking. The walk had led you two down a dimmed hallway and you’d push open the first door you could find..anything not to see his face. But he wasn’t having it! Met with a mirror, sink, toilet and stand in shower, you’d corner yourself off there, trying to fight back tears until you heard the knob turn. He bursts in there with a less than friendly expression on his face, now mad that you have him chasing you. “Man, what’s wrong witchu? Why the fuck you running from me?” But you’re in no mood to answer his very obvious question. Pushing at his chest, you try to evade him but Connie just ends up holding you by your wrists until you tell him what’s wrong.

“..leave me the fuck alone, Connie…got me in this dumbass party so you can let these bitches play in your face.” blurting out in a low mumble without making eye contact with him. And he’s so confused at first that he genuinely doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. So he asks you to repeat and once you do, he just starts laughing..which reallly pissed you off! “..ain’t shit funny, Connie. The fuck is you laughing for?” And from there, he doesn’t try to explain a damn thing. Just spins you around to face the mirror..placing a hand around your throat as he grimaces in your ear. “Chill out with all that shit…I ain’t playing with you, (y/n).” Normally, it’d work to stop you from being irate but you decided to press his buttons since he wanted to play. “And what you gone do if I don’t?” Retorting back, only to be met with a slap to your ass and a pressing hand to your spine. The next thing you knew..your leg was hiked up on the counter and Connie was mounted behind you with his hands snaking up your dress. “..face that fucking mirror and don’t move.” a command you followed, merely thinking nothing of it. Tugging those panties to the side in the process. What you didn’t know was that he was about to fuck that little attitude right out of you!

in one other swift motion, Connie unfastened the buckle to his Amiris, letting them sway to his hips and expose that thick cock as he saddled behind you. Stroking himself in his palm and licking his hand to lubricate his tip..which was already very much seeping and erect for you. His wristwatch sitting idly on the small of your back whilst he prepared to enter you; not even bothering to easy his way in because he needed to teach you a lesson. But as always, you opened right up for him in a matter of seconds. That wetness swallowing him immediately after his first thrust, which made both of you emit a loud gasp. But he would garner his stance and rhythm, making sure you knew who was in control. Eventually, he’d begin to feed you a few deeper strokes, ones that had you making a mess of him in that short span. “Fuck…Connie. Yes, right there!”

looking back with a firm grasp on that sink counter, (y/n) cried out for more, begging this man to keep hitting your spot and place his claim on it. Which he did, as well as began choking you in the process to keep that head reigned in and your eyes on him. That heavy ass bouncing fiercely off of his pelvis. This was exactly what you needed..to be pounded into pure oblivion and made to understand that you were his one and only priority.

“You feel that dick, baby? The way I’m fucking on this lil’ pussy? Can’t nobody get that shit but you. This all yours..I belong to you. Ain’t no need to trip like that.”

the words making you soften a bit and realize just how foolish you were acting! He had no use for that girl or any other one when he had you by his side. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of competition there and he’d drill it into your mind…and body that you were the only woman he’d ever need. “It’s alright though..I know you only get like this when I ain’t been in it. But you know I love you, (y/n). Love the way you feel f’r me and shit. I ain’t never coming up off of you.” With your breasts bouncing around after spilling from your top half. Connie doubled down on those speeds, practically drilling your shit and making your legs quiver. He could also feel just how close you were for him and decided to send you into climax with a few more rough and sporadic thrusts. “I’m coming, fuck! Daddy, I’m coming..” tapping against the counter as a sign of submission and that you were sorry for behaving so foolishly. But he’d need your word that you’d stop the outbursts before allowing that to happen. “You gone act right? Quit acting fucking crazy?..” “..yes! Please, I’m sorry..” which seemed to have sufficed for him because before you knew it, you were gasping for air, desperate for that orgasm when he reached underneath and stroked your clit and clammy folds to bring you to your peak. Which in turn made you tighten and spasm around him. Those juices splattering the floor underneath you both but that didn’t stop him! He had a release of his own but he’d make sure that not one single drop would spill. Instead…

“I’m coming too, baby…nutting in that lil’ pussy.”

and next thing you knew..you were met with a loud grunt and his warm seed splattering the inside of your womb. Not stopping for nearly thirty seconds. Not until you were filled up with him. Letting you know he was all yours. Completely caught in the midst of the feeling, you’d find yourself spun around and greeted with a barrage of sloppy pecks. “C’mere..” muttering against your lips whilst his tongue danced around your mouth. Your eyes aglow with a sparkle that hadn’t been there before. Which made him all the more satisfied. That’s when you’d feel a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to jolt.

“Now quit playing, mama and let me handle this shit. I swear we can do whatever you want when we get up outta here.”

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