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#insolent little brat
cinnamon-grump · 2 years
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I feel like I’ve come to understand how my idiot cat comminicates well enough to distinguish different meows n shit…
He’s really pulling that fucking “mum… mumm… mummy! Ma! Mama!!!” bit EVERY DAY. Bitch doesn’t even WANT anything he doesn’t already have, istg he JUST wants to get me up and pissed off and keep me awake
#its also kinda that game kids play of throwing shit on the floor so u HAVE to fetch it#like no fuck you#insolent little brat#eat your food and shut the fuck up#i am as good as i can be to this little bastard and all he does is scream and destroy things and climb where he shouldn’t#he thinks going UP NEAR THE CEILING FAN IS A GREAT WAY TO GET MY ATTENTION#YEAH BUT NOW IM SCARED AND MAD MARVIN#and he ALWAYS does this shit when i NEED to sleep..#and the times where he just reeeaaally wants me to scrunch him on the rug???#first of all FUCK YOU for ONLY liking to be pet in this one particular spot of the house#i literally cannot be on my knees there all the time iT HURTS ME#secondly ??!? do i fucking do this to you when YOU are sleeping??? i think the FUCk not#ahHHHHHH#shit man fuck#shut up ashwyn#the thing i hate most about it is how i HAVE to pet him or he wont stop#but he makes me SO f C ing angry that im SHAKING and have trouble controling my strength#so im pissed off and frantic and at the same time terrified im gonna break his stupid little cat bones with my big dumb human hands#the end result is almost always that i gotta get fUCKEC up high and cry into my pillow until i can pass out for MAYBE 4 hours before work#and trying not to kms for being rough with this stupid masochistic cat#like its well established he WANTS the nastiest most violent petting sessions u can manage.. but i still feel so guilty#the Anger in ME when it happens is probably the main culprit…#and/or whatever cocktail of mental illness my brain is sloshin aroun in#anyway… sorry..#i think i will delete this within the hour i just.. im so tired n i needed to get this out of my system..
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anotherdarkiboi · 8 months
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List of Astarion's Terms of Endearment
This is for the fanfic writers haha. Tell me if I'm missing any so can add it in!
Darling (his most used)
My love, love
My sweet
“You sweet, generous thing”, “you sweet little thing”
Lover
My dear, a dear, dear
Beautiful
Cheeky little pup
My little treat ("-with their cheeks all flushed")
Sweetie
Pet
You wicked little thing (affectionate)
"You're a sweetheart", "you sweetheart"
Delectable little pet (not directed towards Tav but it easily could be)
My friend (yay, we're his friend)
My favorite traveling companion (not a pet name but it's nice to be his favorite)
My leaking blood-bag (technically you refer to yourself as that first and he calls you his one after, but it counts)
You little scoundrel
Edit: Thank you everyone in the comments for adding the Dark Urge ones!
Bhaal-babe (I'm dead, this silly pun I swear)
My sweet, bloodthirsty friend
My precious little Bhaal-babe
My conflicted villain
My dagger-happy friend
Bonus: Ascended Yandere Astarion
My pet, pet
Little love
Precious thing
My treasure
My consort, My Dark Consort
My favorite spawn
Insolent little- (the Dev's notes say that the full line is "you insolent little brat" which, um...)
Insolent little pup (the line was in EA, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s Ascended Astarion. Full line: “you are an insolent little pup, aren’t you?”)
"You ingrate" (When you try to break up with him. It's not really a pet name, but-)
"Property I cherish, but still my property" (his thoughts)
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corollaservant · 27 days
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jjk men react to you giving them hickeys
suggestive / quick drabble (bc my ex hated that shit)
Gojo: He doesn’t notice when you start sucking a specific spot on his long neck until he feels a sharp pain. Your plump lips turn him on and he doesn’t really give a fuck about the mark, which he knows will be more than visible especially since he’s so pale and his shirts always show collarbones. He’s too into it to tell you anything though as he grabs your hips and moves them on his clothed bulge.
Geto: He’s reserved and levelheaded. Plus he’s also a grown man so he groans when you start biting and sucking on his neck. He feels turned on but urges you to slow down, ‘’sweetheart..stop’’ he’ll tell you but will eventually let you do your thing, he knows how stubborn you get. He also needs a reason to punish you later on by thrusting harshly in you for being a disobedient girl. 
Nanami: He is not a fan of hickeys as he thinks it’s not very professional to sport love bites to corporate the next day but he is also the type to give ones himself so when he hears your complaints ‘’but..baby.. you do this all the timee’’ as you slowly kiss and bite his neck, he just goes along with it, his cock twitching when you divert your attention to his earlobe and suck on it too. 
Toji: Absolutely not a fan. He thinks this is behavior of silly little insolent brats. Each time you’ll try to continuously suck on one spot, he’ll slap your ass with vice, he wants you to behave and do your usual business with him. One thing he never admits though is how fucking good your soft tongue feels on his neck, it gives him chills sometimes- but you never notice so he doesn’t ever tell you.
Sukuna: He wouldn’t mind if it didn’t drag on for toooo long, he needs more action and less teasing so he doesn’t prefer it, but it’s never an issue of appearance with him. ‘’You’re being slow’’ he’ll say as you tease the crook of his neck, ‘’move on’’. 
Higuruma: He would never allow it in any previous relationships he had. He has a name to maintain and is not fond of territorial marking and all that ‘’teenager stuff’’. You’d be the one to change his mind, whispering seductively in his ear ‘’please Hiromi, let me kiss you’’ wiggling your hips as he’d slowly groan and comply. ‘’I’ll ride your face, if you let me’’ you promise him and he- well..he will just let you.
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Class clown
class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always
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"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"
"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."
You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?
But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."
You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.
"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.
Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.
Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.
You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.
But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."
"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.
"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.
"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.
"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.
"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."
"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.
"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.
"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.
"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.
"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"
He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.
Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.
"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."
"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.
"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.
"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.
But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."
You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"
"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.
You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"
You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"
"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."
You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."
"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."
"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"
"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.
"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.
"Baby, please, slow down?"
"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"
"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.
"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"
You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."
"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.
"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.
He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."
"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."
"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"
"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.
"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.
"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.
"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"
It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.
"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.
"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.
But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"
"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"
He really is insane.
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augusgus · 1 year
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what turns them on (m.)
pairings: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna x reader
tags: god complex, humiliation play, monsterfucking, voyeurism, predator prey kink, fear play, brat breaking taming, degradation
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☆ GOJO ☆
honestly, he has it all. He's talented, he's good-looking, he's charming. He's got you wrapped around his finger and the look of pure devotion whenever he has you kneeling in front of him gets him going like nothing else. C'mon, little cock whorshipper, no need to be so eager to get him in your pretty mouth. He's got you, don't you worry, and if you're all good and compliant he might even let you get off on his boot while he paints your face with his cum.
☆ GETO ☆
has the fantasy of having you fucked by his own cursed spirits while he watches, getting off on how they treat you, how helpless you are in face of such depravity and perversion and that ultimately he's the one in control of the whole situation as he's the one who controls the curses. And don't you like being good for him, all pretty and messed up like that? He only gives you a gentle smile when you search for his gaze with tears in your eyes.
☆ TOJI ☆
loves the hunt, the adrenaline coursing through his veins when he gives you a headstart to get away from him and sees the wide-eyed look on your face. He can be a patient man, he'll give you a taste of how it feels to escape, to run, but in the end he'll always find you. Look behind all you want, it only gives him the opportunity to see your expression when he grabs you by the neck with a wild smile and mounts you.
☆ SUKUNA ☆
he's used to obedience, he expects obedience. So when you try to keep your dignity around him, he finds immense joy in breaking you. He might be annoyed at your insolence and pride but it only makes him want to see you grovel at his feet all the more. You have no choice but to submit, and he loves seeing the dread on your face when you eventually realise. You're nothing without him, know your place little slut.
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Do consider leaving feedback or a reblog if you enjoyed it <3
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bitchiswild · 2 months
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You’re Mine
G!P Huh Yunjin x F!Reader
Words Count: 3.5k
Warnings: rough, mean girl yunjin, slapping, choking, creampie, hair pulling, etc.
A/n: im yours yunjin 🧎‍♀️
Requested
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"Move, you slut," the voice hissed before a forceful shove pinned you against the locker. Anger surged through you as you turned to confront your attacker, only to find yourself face-to-face with your long-time tormentor, Huh Yunjin.
You were no stranger to the elite atmosphere of your private college, where only the offspring of the privileged elite could gain entry. In this exclusive world, Yunjin reigned as the undisputed "Queen Bee," her status bolstered by the influential positions held by her parents among the upper echelons of society.
Despite the luxurious facade of the institution, its halls harbored the harsh realities of social hierarchy and power plays. For you, navigating these treacherous waters meant enduring relentless bullying from Yunjin and her clique, who wielded their influence with impunity.
As you squared your shoulders and met Yunjin's gaze with defiance, you steeled yourself for yet another confrontation in this battleground of prestige and entitlement.
With a defiant smirk, you pushed yourself off the locker, refusing to let Yunjin's intimidation tactics hold sway over you any longer. "You're the one who needs to move, Yunjin," you retorted, your voice laced with equal parts irritation and disdain. "Last time I checked, this hallway wasn't your personal runway."
Yunjin's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and fury at your boldness, but you held your ground, reveling in the taste of rebellion. "Oh, look who's finally grown a spine," she sneered, her tone dripping with condescension. "But don't get too ahead of yourself, darling. You're still just a peasant in our kingdom."
You rolled your eyes, refusing to let her barbs penetrate your armor. "Please, spare me the melodrama," you shot back, your words laden with sarcasm. "I may not have your pedigree, but at least I have the decency not to treat people like trash."
Yunjin bristled at your insolence, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" she seethed, her voice tinged with venom. "Well, let's see how long that mouth of yours lasts when I'm through with you."
But you merely smirked in response, relishing the opportunity to ruffle her feathers. "Bring it on, Jen," you taunted, your bravado masking the flutter of nerves beneath the surface. "I've dealt with worse than you."
With that, you sauntered away, leaving Yunjin seething in your wake, a small but satisfying victory in the ongoing battle for dominance in the cutthroat world of elite academia.
As you defiantly turned to walk away, determined to leave Yunjin's petty antics behind you, a sudden vice-like grip seized your arm. Startled, you stumbled backward as Yunjin yanked you forcefully into an empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind you with an ominous thud.
Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, you found yourself face-to-face with your tormentor, her features contorted with rage and something darker lurking beneath the surface. "You think you can just walk away from me, like you're better than everyone else?" Yunjin spat, her voice low and dangerous.
Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you refused to show any sign of weakness. "Let go of me, Yunjin," you demanded, your tone firm and unwavering. "You're not worth my time."
But Yunjin's grip only tightened, her nails digging into your skin with painful insistence. "You're going to regret crossing me, you little brat," she seethed, her words dripping with venom. "I'll make sure you pay for every insolent word that's ever come out of your mouth."
Your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and anger as Yunjin's threats hung heavy in the air. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you refused to show any sign of weakness.
"Now get on your knees," Yunjin commanded, her voice a sharp whip of authority slicing through the tense silence.
Your defiance blazed hotter within you, fueled by indignation at her audacity. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'll bow down to you," you shot back, your voice trembling with suppressed fury. "I'm not some pawn for you to manipulate at your whim."
Yunjin's smirk twisted into something cruel as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. "Who says you're bowing to me?" she taunted, her tone dripping with contempt. "No, princess, you're sucking my cock."
Your eyes rolled instinctively at her words, a mixture of annoyance and disbelief simmering beneath the surface. "Oh, please," you scoffed, your voice laced with sarcasm. "As if I'd stoop that low for someone as pathetic as you."
Ignoring her, Yunjin roughly pulled down her skirt, her movements fueled by a potent mix of anger and arrogance. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again at the dramatic display, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips despite yourself.
But as her cock sprang into view, hard and angry, a different sensation washed over you. Despite your bravado, an undeniable thrill coursed through your veins at the sight of it, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, a futile attempt to suppress the traitorous desire that threatened to consume you.
Yunjin's smirk widened at the sight of your reaction, a smug satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "What's the matter, princess?" she teased, her voice dripping with derision. "Cat got your tongue?"
You fought to maintain your composure, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. With a defiant toss of your hair, you shot her a disdainful look, determined to play the brat to the bitter end.
But deep down, beneath the layers of bravado and defiance, you couldn't shake the unsettling realization that Yunjin's cruel games had stirred something within you, something dark and forbidden that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed facade you wore like amor.
With an exaggerated eye roll and a scoff that bordered on theatrical, you watched as Yunjin brought her cock closer to your mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. Despite the tension crackling in the air, you refused to let her see any hint of weakness, maintaining your bratty demeanor with unwavering determination.
"Oh, please," you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you leaned back against the nearest desk, crossing your arms defiantly. "Is this supposed to impress me? Because let me tell you, it's doing the exact opposite."
Yunjin's lips curled into a sneer at your defiance, her grip tightening on her cock as she hovered tantalizingly close to your lips. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. "Well, let's see how long that smart mouth of yours lasts when it's wrapped around my cock."
You fought to suppress the shiver of anticipation that threatened to betray you, maintaining a facade of nonchalance even as Yunjin's cock loomed closer, the heat radiating from it palpable against your skin.
Rolling your eyes yet again, you tilted your head to the side with a dismissive huff. "Is that the best you've got?" you taunted, your voice laced with false bravado. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to impress me, sweetheart."
But beneath the surface, a tempest of conflicting emotions raged within you, a heady mixture of defiance and desire warring for dominance. In this twisted game of power and manipulation, you knew that maintaining your bratty facade was the only defense you had against Yunjin's relentless cruelty.
Yunjin's patience wore thin as she grew tired of your defiance. With a swift movement, she grabbed your head, forcing her cock through your lips, her grip firm and unyielding. The sudden invasion left you momentarily stunned, your breath catching in your throat as she began to fuck your mouth with a forceful rhythm.
Despite the initial shock, you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you submit so easily. With a muffled grunt of protest, you struggled against her hold, your bratty attitude flaring to life even in the face of this humiliating act.
"Mmmph!" you managed to protest around her cock, the sound muffled and garbled as she continued to thrust into your mouth with increasing intensity. Each movement was met with resistance, your jaw clenched tight as you fought against her, determined not to let her break you.
Yunjin's laughter echoed through the empty classroom, a cruel symphony of dominance as she relished in your futile struggles. "That's it, princess," she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. "You're going to learn your place one way or another."
But even as Yunjin exerted her control over you, a flicker of defiance burned bright within your chest. With every fiber of your being, you vowed to endure this humiliation with your pride intact, refusing to let her cruel games crush your spirit.
As Yunjin's thrusts grew more forceful, your resolve hardened, a silent promise to yourself echoing in the recesses of your mind. No matter what she threw your way, you would never bow down to her, not now, not ever
Despite your best efforts to resist, a wave of conflicting sensations washed over you as Yunjin's relentless thrusts persisted. With each forceful movement, an involuntary moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the cock that filled your mouth.
The sensation of her cock sliding in and out, coupled with the tight grip of her hand on your head, sent sparks of arousal coursing through your veins. Despite the humiliation of the situation, a shameful heat pooled low in your belly, betraying your body's undeniable response to her touch.
As Yunjin's pace quickened, driving her cock deeper into your mouth, you found yourself succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. The friction between you, fueled by a potent mix of desire and defiance, sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy.
Yunjin's laughter mingled with your moans, a twisted symphony of dominance and submission that filled the air around you. With each thrust, she exerted her control over you, relishing in the power she held over your body and mind.
Despite the shame that threatened to consume you, a part of you reveled in the raw intensity of the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that coursed through your veins. In this twisted dance of dominance and desire, you found yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, your body betraying you even as your mind fought to maintain a semblance of control.
Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and a strange undercurrent of arousal. Despite your attempts to suppress them, they flowed freely, betraying the complex emotions swirling within you.
Yunjin's hand moved from your head to gently wipe away the tears, her touch oddly tender against the backdrop of the dominating act she was performing. "There, there, princess," she cooed mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're so much better with my cock in your mouth."
Her words struck a nerve, a mixture of shame and defiance bubbling up within you. Part of you recoiled at the degradation of being reduced to this, while another part burned with an unspoken desire that refused to be extinguished.
Despite the conflicting emotions warring within you, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Yunjin's piercing eyes. In that moment, as she held you captive with her gaze, you realized that this twisted dynamic between you was far more complicated than you had ever imagined.
With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met her gaze head-on, a silent challenge burning bright in your eyes. Beneath the layers of humiliation and submission, a spark of rebellion flickered to life, a silent vow to reclaim your power in this twisted game of dominance and desire.
As Yunjin's thrusts intensified, her grip tightening on your head, a primal urgency infused her voice as she gasped, "God, I'm gonna cum in your mouth. You better swallow it all."
With a surge of desperation, she released into your mouth, her essence flooding your senses. The bitter taste of her release filled your mouth as she emptied herself, each pulse a reminder of your submission to her will.
As she withdrew, a surge of defiance surged within you. With a defiant flick of your tongue, you spat out her cum, the act a rebellious assertion of your autonomy in the face of her dominance.
Yunjin's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and anger at your defiance. "You insolent little brat," she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "You'll regret that."
But even as she glared at you, a spark of triumph flared within you. In this moment of rebellion, you reclaimed a fragment of your dignity, a silent declaration that you would not be reduced to a mere pawn in her twisted games of power and control.
Yunjin's grip tightened on your hair as she dragged you up from your knees, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. With a rough shove, she pushed you over the desk, the cold surface biting into your skin as you landed with a thud.
Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation as Yunjin wasted no time in yanking down your skirt and underwear, exposing you to her ruthless gaze. A shiver of vulnerability coursed through you as her fingers teased your entrance, tracing agonizing circles around your slick folds.
Before you could gather your wits, she thrust her fingers inside you with a brutal force, eliciting a whimper of both pain and pleasure from your lips. The sudden intrusion left you reeling, your body straining against the onslaught of sensations crashing over you.
Yunjin's hand came down hard on your exposed ass, the sharp slap sending shockwaves of pain rippling through your body. The sting lingered, your skin flaming red under her punishing touch as she asserted her dominance over you.
"Take my cock like a good girl," she commanded, her voice dripping with cruel authority as she positioned herself behind you. With a brutal thrust, she buried her entire length inside you, the sensation overwhelming as she claimed you as her own.
Your breath hitched in your throat as she filled you completely, every inch of her cock stretching you to your limits. Despite the pain and humiliation, a shameful heat pooled low in your belly, your body betraying you with every desperate gasp and whimper that escaped your lips.
In this twisted dance of dominance and submission, you found yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, your body yielding to the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain inflicted upon you by Yunjin's cruel desires
Yunjin's grip on your hair tightened, her fingers tangling in the strands as she thrust into you with a relentless force. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, the rhythm rough and unyielding.
With a savage intensity, she pulled your hair back, arching your spine and exposing your neck to her hungry gaze. The sensation of her fingers digging into your scalp ignited a primal need within you, a desperate craving for more of her dominating touch.
Your skin burned under her punishing grip, each slap leaving a fiery imprint on your flesh as she marked you as her own. The sting of her hand against your skin mingled with the throbbing ache between your legs, the sensations blurring the lines between pleasure and pain.
Through gritted teeth, Yunjin's voice reverberated with a raw hunger as she growled, "You like it rough, don't you, you filthy little slut?"
A shiver of arousal coursed through you at her words, your body responding to the raw dominance in her tone. "Yes," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate whimper. "Harder, please."
With a primal grunt, Yunjin obliged, her thrusts becoming even more forceful as she claimed you with a relentless ferocity. Each collision sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, your senses overwhelmed by the raw intensity of the moment.
Amidst the chaos of your entwined bodies, a symphony of dirty talk filled the air, a primal exchange of desire and dominance that fueled the flames of passion burning between you. In this raw, unbridled moment of carnal ecstasy, you surrendered to the primal urges consuming you, lost in the savage rhythm of pleasure and pain orchestrated by Yunjin's command.
"Take it," she commanded, her voice a husky whisper laced with authority. "Spread your legs wider for me."
Your body responded instinctively to her commands, yielding to her dominance as you obeyed without hesitation. With each directive, she exerted her control over you, guiding your movements with a commanding presence that left you powerless to resist.
"Look at me," she demanded, her voice a sharp command cutting through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. "I want to see your eyes as I take you."
Yunjin's grip tightened around your throat, her fingers exerting pressure as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "Feel good princess?" she growled, her voice a husky whisper laced with dominance.
A whimper escaped your lips as her words sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you. "Yes," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate plea. "Yes it feels so good.”
With a primal hunger, Yunjin complied, her lips trailing down your neck with bruising force, leaving a trail of fiery marks in her wake. Each bite and suck of her lips against your skin elicited a whimper of pleasure from your throat, the sensation of her teeth sinking into your flesh sending shivers of ecstasy down your spine.
As she marked you as her own, the sound of her hand meeting your skin echoed through the room, punctuated by the symphony of moans and gasps that filled the air. "You're mine," she growled, her voice dripping with possessiveness as she claimed you with each punishing strike.
With each thrust, the desk beneath you creaked and groaned under the force of your shared passion, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room with a primal rhythm that echoed through the empty space.
Amidst the chaos of your entwined bodies, your moans mingled with hers in a symphony of ecstasy, the raw intensity of your shared pleasure reverberating through the room. In this raw and uninhibited moment of carnal desire, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations consuming you, lost in the intoxicating dance of dominance and desire orchestrated by Yunjin's commanding touch.
"God, Yunjin, I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, your voice filled with a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. Despite the intensity of your impending release, Yunjin's thrusts never faltered, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless movement.
The table beneath you began to scrape against the floor, the sound of wood against tile adding to the cacophony of pleasure filling the room. With each collision, the friction between your bodies intensified, fueling the flames of desire burning within you.
Yunjin's grip on your throat tightened, her fingers digging into your skin with a possessive force as she growled in response to your cries. "That's it, princess," she snarled, her voice dripping with dominance. "Cum for me, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up so good," Yunjin groaned, her voice thick with desire as she thrust into you with renewed fervor. Each powerful thrust drove you to the brink of ecstasy, the promise of her impending release sending tremors of anticipation coursing through your body.
With each collision, the table scraped against the floor, the sound a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing through the room. Yunjin's grip on your throat tightened, her fingers leaving bruising imprints on your skin as she claimed you with a possessive intensity.
You moaned in response, the sensation of her cock filling you completely pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Yes, please," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate plea. "Fill me up, Yunjin, I need it."
With a primal roar, Yunjin surrendered to the intoxicating pull of pleasure, her body tensing as she reached the brink of release. With one final, powerful thrust, she buried herself deep inside you, her seed flooding your senses as she emptied herself completely.
Pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy, leaving you trembling and breathless in its wake. As the echoes of your shared climax faded into the air, you lay spent and sated beneath Yunjin's commanding touch, your senses ablaze with the raw intensity of your shared passion.
In the aftermath of your passionate encounter, a heavy silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint creaking of the table beneath you. You lay spent and tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, as the remnants of your shared pleasure lingered in the air like a hazy mist.
Yunjin's grip on your throat loosened, her fingers trailing lightly over the marks she had left behind, a silent testament to the intensity of your connection. Her eyes met yours, a rare vulnerability shining in their depths amidst the fading fire of desire.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your shared experience hanging heavy between you like a tangible presence. In this moment of quiet intimacy, you found yourself caught in the delicate balance between desire and vulnerability, the boundaries of power and submission blurring into a tangled web of raw emotion.
With a soft sigh, Yunjin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch surprisingly tender against the backdrop of your heated encounter. "You're mine," she whispered.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie Mean Charlie .. do you see the vision?
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I just KNOW you were thinking of her demon form when you sent this. And more power to you because, GOD DAMN. Stay away Verbalase, Charlie Morningstar is for the girlies. So mean Charlie is such an interesting idea because, with the right smartass attitude, I don’t think it’d be as rare as everyone would think. Like say, for example, you’re constantly giving Charlie shit, sarcastic comments, snarky attitude, annoyingly pessimistic thoughts. All things she deals with literally everyday for her job. So, up the stakes a bit. Make it targeted. More than just an overall attitude, make your smartass retort’s constantly directed to Charlie and only Charlie Don’t even let her finish her optimistic little speeches, refuse to partake in any activities. Really drive her to her breaking point. And then, fuck yeah you got yourself a mean Charlie. She would try to be the bigger person and stay positive for the longest time. But at a certain point your uselessly pessimistic jeers would get to her and she would freak out at you. Like the “fuck you, you old bitch!” directed at Susan in episode seven. But this would be much more severe because there would be buildup. Her hair would come undone her eyes would go red and her horns would come out. All while she yells at you and scolds you for being such an insolent little bitch. Can’t you just listen for fucking once? Do anything she says, even suggests? This would obviously shock you because Charlie is usually a very apologetic, passive, sweet person. And here you have her fucking fuming over your meaninglessly rude words. The princess of hell was screaming at you for, what, being a brat?
I consider myself a dom…but Charlie Morningstar could have me any day. Just her though. She is my only exception. Mean Charlie in a smut kind of way is very interesting because she absolutely has an animalistic side she’s not even aware of. Usually, she’s a fan of gentle sex but when you piss her off and get her all worked up I literally don’t think she could control herself. Look at her, that woman eats pussy like she’s been starving for years. I JUST KNOW. She laps it up like a hungry animal it’s so fucking crazy. Pull her horns while she’s doing that too, just to piss her off more. Maybe she’ll even dig her nails into your thigh. Got a little carried away in the end there but, yes I see the mean Charlie vision. LOUD AND CLEAR. Anyways like I said I’m a dom and this is a dom reader blog but— Top Charlie does something too me sorry not sorry.
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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months
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A FINE LINE (BETWEEN LOVE AND HATE).
Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader
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"I would rather feed my sons to the Dragons, than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a King." Your husband’s words still lingered in the back of your head and drove you mad with fury. 
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; non/dub-con, canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, size kink, choking, size difference, oral (fem receiving), darkish Daemon Targaryen
WORDS: 1.9 K
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“I would rather feed my sons to the Dragons, than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a King.” Your husband’s words still lingered in the back of your head and drove you mad with fury. 
Two guards pushed the doors to the Chamber of the Painted Table open to reveal your husband standing in front of it with several members of your small council standing besides him, studying the map. Upon your arrival, everybody bowed their heads, muttering distinct “Your Grace’s” until your voice shushed them. “Leave us,” you announced, an unfamiliar sternness laced within your voice. 
Once the doors fell shut and everyone was out, there was no holding you back. 
You charged at Daemon, fury blazing in your lilac eyes. “You would do what!?” You all but yelled, and as if he was surprised by your outburst, the second son of Baelon Targaryen had to take a step back. “Feed your sons to our Dragons just to not have them at Aegon’s court?”
While the thought of Baelon and Viserys being present at the court of your half-brother was angering you, too, the thought of their father recklessly mentioning to feed them to Caraxes and Silverwing was frightening you. 
Deep down you knew he would never go that far, but just that he deemed it appropriate to say something like that made your blood boil. Especially in front of the traitor Hand, Otto Hightower. You had married the so-called Rogue Prince back then, yes, but that did not mean he had to show that demeanor towards his children. 
You stood between Daemon and the Painted Table, standing so close to him, your nose was almost brushing against the column of his throat with your head tilted upwards. 
“Have you lost your mind!?”
In an instant, Daemon had herded you against the large table, the edge of it pressing firmly into your arse. The gleam in his eyes was mischievous, indicating that–even though you were the Queen–he was your husband and secretly the one in charge. 
“Do not be an insolent brat,” chided his deep voice, sending a shiver down your spine. “You and I know we would never take it that far.”
You scrunched your nose in what one could muster as disgust at his choice of words and his demeanor towards you. “I dare you to speak about us in that consideration again,” your voice was sharp. “It was not I that said those things.”
“Gaoman daor care skoros emā vestās iā daor,” Daemon spat with venom laced within his voice, yet the slight twitching of his mouth indicated that he was amused by your fury. I do not care what you have said or not. “Nyke vestan ziry se nūmāzma ziry.” I said it and I mean it. 
“That Hightower cunt does not deserve the satisfaction of extinguishing your claim to the Iron Throne, and having our children run around court as that halfwits squires. Dārilarossa issi.” They are Princes. 
His large hands had made themselves at home on your waist, squeezing your flesh in a not-so-gentle manner to distract you from the topic at hand. But even though you gasped, it did not quite work. 
You released a dry chuckle, only for him to clasp one hand around your throat instead. If it wasn’t for the unpredictability of his actions and words, you would have found it charming how he switched between the common tongue and High Valyrian while he spoke. But there was little to no charm whenever the Rogue Prince stood in front of you.
“Bisa iksis daor aōha iderennon naejot mazverdagon,” you warned with a strained voice, though you made no attempt to free yourself of his grasp–something in you clearly enjoyed that side of him. This is not your choice to make. 
It seemed your words had hit something in him, because without saying anything else, he hoisted you up to sit upon the Painted Table, the warmth of the candles beneath seeping through your gown, and pressed your back flush down against the surface. 
“Gaomagon nyke jorrāelagon naejot ivestragon ao bona ziry olvie olvie iksis ñuha iderennon?” His looming presence leaned forwards, towering over yours. With his tight grip on your throat you were not able to move, pinned to the table. Do I need to remind you that it is very much my choice?
“Kostilus,” you retorted, the same mischief flickering in the lilac of your eyes, that previously shone in his. Perhaps.
A smug smirk spread across Daemon’s features, and soon enough, he covered your mouth with his, licking into yours and kissing you deeply, standing in stark contrast to his previous demeanor. He waited until you were short of breath, forcing air into your lungs. “You are just as desperate as the other whores before you.” 
When no response was forthcoming, Daemon loosened his grip on your throat slightly, letting you catch your breath. 
You bared your teeth at him, but as much as you had to say, eloquence was not a strength of you in that moment, especially when he put you on one level with the countless women he had taken before you, “Nyke vēdros ao.” I hate you. 
It was Daemon’s turn to chuckle, cocking an eyebrow at you. Deep down he knew you didn’t mean it, not when you always reminded him of just how much you needed and loved him. “Kesā vēdros nyke sīr olvie tolī istin iksan gaomagon lēda ao,“ he teased, raising an eyebrow at you. You will hate me so much more once I am done with you.
With one hand curled around your thigh–the skirts of your dress long bunched around your waist–he pulled you just a tad closer towards the edge of the table and into contact with his body, his hard member pressing against your clothed mound. 
Defiantly, you buried your hand inside the tresses of his silver-blonde hair, dragging him down against your mouth. The kiss was sharp and hard, a scrape of teeth and the taste of blood which caused Daemon to growl against your lips. 
He deepened the kiss and allowed your other hand to make quick work of the laces in the front of his breeches, freeing his hard member from its confines as you pushed his breeches barely down enough to free his stones as well. 
When he withdrew his lips from yours, you couldn't stop yourself from pouting, followed by him tsking at you as if he was scolding a child. “Keligon bona.” Stop that. 
Without sparing you another glance, he all but tore your smallclothes off your body, exposing your slick core to the cold air of the large chamber. As his finger brushed your mound, you bucked into his touch. “So wet, so needy, and not so bold anymore, mh?”
You huffed in return, and when your husband leaned forwards again, trailing hot kisses over the exposed skin of your low-cut neckline, you clasped your arms around the back of his neck to keep him right there. 
The tip of his cock dragged through your folds in a teasing manner, barely pushing in only to pull out right away. 
You were desperate for him to take you right there, and with the heels of your feet coming up to dig into his arse, it was you who forced him into your tight core in one, solid push. As Daemon groaned against your skin, you shuddered, arching your back into his body. 
His cock stretched and filled you exactly how you craved, every notch and vein palpable and brushing the sensitive spot within your core. 
With him being entirely in your grasp, it was your task to move, rocking and rolling your hips against his to get the angle just right, to seek the place that made you see stars. His hands settled on your thighs, gripping hard enough to surely leave some bruises. 
Each of his grunts and groans was muffled by your skin, his mouth occupied with sucking and nibbling on it, leaving marks he would trace with his tongue in their wake. 
The thrusts of his hips were off rhythm with your ministrations, meeting halfway but still amplifying the pleasure you both felt. 
As he fisted your hair to tug your head sharply to the side to grant himself even more access to your neck, you gasped, the sound quickly replaced by a quiet moan.
“Nyke iēdrosa gaomagon daor shijetra ao.” I still do not forgive you. 
Daemon chose to say nothing in return, which angered you even more. Tugging as harshly on his hair as he had tugged on yours before, you dug your nails of the other hand into the back of his neck, claiming him in your own way. 
His other hand splayed across your belly, slowly grazing down to the apex between your legs, seeking your little bundle before his fingers started to circle around it. 
You were so close and ground your hips against his fingers, reveling in the way he seemingly lost himself in the pleasure, too. 
And then, a stinging sensation washed over you as Daemon pinched your pearl, the pain intense enough to have you peaking a few moments after. “Daemon!” You exclaimed a bit too loud, the following sounds shushed by his lips on yours. 
Maybe it was the way you spoke his name in such surprise and despair, or maybe it was his own desire for you and the sweet relief, but his peak hit him shortly after yours, hips arching up as he spent himself inside of you. 
Shards of pleasure, as sharp as the blade of Dark Sister, prickled through your body, intensifying with the twitching and throbbing of his cock. It shuddered through you like the repercussions of both your peaks, his panting just as loud as yours. 
With one hand braced next to your waist, he propped himself up and studied your features with his softened gaze turning back to something sterner in the blink of an eye. You reached to cup his cheek with one hand, gently squeezing it to remind him of what you had said, and he just scowled at that.
“Emagon ao ryptan skoros vestan?” You asked as there came no reply. Have you heard what I said?
“Eman,” he said in an annoyed manner, tilting his head sideways. I have. “Kostilus kesan ērinagon ñuha dāria toliot lēda bisa.” Perhaps I can convince my Queen with this. 
Daemon pulled out of you, tugging his flaccid cock back into his breeches, before he sank to his knees in front of the Painted Table—face on one level with your cunt. He admired the way his seed oozed out of your core, forcing it back inside of you with the pad of his thumb pushing it in.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him carefully, and the wink he flashed you sent shivers down your spine, more so when his mouth found your cunt. 
The chuckle he released as you gasped vibrated through your core, diminishing the uncomfortable feeling of the overstimulation and igniting a new heat to fill your veins.
His tongue swirled over your pearl before he closed his mouth around it to suck, and your legs were draped over his shoulders as his tongue sent a burning pleasure straight through your core again, making you desperate for more. 
Maybe his words were not as bad as you had thought after all.
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dollwrites · 7 months
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!princess!reader, king!stepdad!griffith, stepcest, cuddlefucking, reader is a griffith simp and also a brat, griffith is brutally honest and also kind of misogynistic, griffith calls reader ‘ little girl ‘, implied age gap, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day nine [ griffith + stepcest ]
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“Look at me.”
you don’t.
“Look.”
poking your lower lip out in a childish pout, you purposefully avert your eyes. turning your face down into the pillow as if refusing eye contact was punishing your stepfather in some way. he sighs, albeit softly, and you feel his long, slender fingers grip your chin, before forcing your face back towards him. you close your eyes, instead, but only do so for a millisecond.
“Look. At. Me.”
you have no choice now. even though Griffith’s tone rarely raised ( and was, in this moment, a soft whisper ), the edge of his baritone was a sneaking growl that rumbled in his throat, but you’d learned to pick it out and understand when he was at his wit’s end with you. his grip firm and squeezing your chin, holding you in place.
finally, you obey. your eyelids flutter as your vision comes back, and you blink a few times until the blur goes away. almost tears, but you’d managed to push them back.
your bedchamber was dark, except for the pale moonlight spilling through the open curtains that catches Griffith’s figure and casts a silvery glow against his flawless features. your face is inches from him, lain on your side with your breasts smushed against his chest, your eyes more than willing to drink in every inch of his countenance. he isn’t smiling, but he’s not scowling, either. his stoic expression is all too familiar.
“What an insolent little girl you’ve become.” he mutters, and you pout even more. “That’s my doing, isn’t it? I spoil you too much.”
you scoff at that— you want to disagree with him. hell, you want to argue that the king doesn’t give you enough attention as it is, he’s much too occupied with your mother and their marriage to give you any kind of real affection, and the time he did spend with you was always under the guise of night time. when no one was awake to witness him tiptoeing into your bedchamber to fuck you.
“Stop your pouting,” he instructs, angling your face toward him. he moves closer, and for a moment you think he’s doing so to kiss you. your lips part, your eyelids droop, and you wait for that sweet, sweet kiss you yearn to taste. the feeling of his plush lips caressing yours. but he doesn’t kiss you. his breath is a soft wave against your tiers as his own linger, close enough to tickle yours. “And move your hips more. I know you love it when I’m deep inside you like this. So show me.”
“Can you sleep in here tonight?” you ask, biding your time.
but when one, graceful hand careens downward to grasp your thigh and hook it up around his slender waist and he answers a simple, “No.” you huff and puff, but obediently wind your hips in slow strokes. feeling every inch of him fill you, you let out a pleasured sigh.
you wished you could have this all the time.
you wished he would stay, so you could wake up in the early morning, when the sun was just starting to rise, and wrap your lips around the cock you loved so much.
you wished he would hold you like this until you fell asleep, with his and your own body joined in a way that was meant only for man and wife.
“Please? Just this once?” both of your hands rest on his shoulders, keeping yourself close to him as you fuck yourself with his cock. slow and deep. a mine-melting rhythm. “Hnnnn… please—“
Griffith cuts into your begging with a low moan, allowing his hand to fall from your face and glide between your body and his. fingers dipping between your hips, the pads rub slow circles around your swollen button until you swoon, your walls fluttering spastically as he stimulates your clit. “Tighter. There you go. Good girl,” he mutters, his eyeline dropping to your lower body rocking back and forth as his breath catches, “clench for me. Let me feel you milk me.”
it was hard to stay mad when he praised you— though you knew he did so simply to placate you, you cling close to his chest and whine. “Why— why couldn’t you have married m-me?” you were starting to pant, now. the passion of the moment overtaking your senses and tightening every muscle in your body.
“Oh, love.” Griffith croons, but you can hear not a single ounce of real emotion behind the term of endearment. his lips graze yours, his voice a husky whisper. “Marrying your mother has given me my own kingdom, an army, and hundreds of loyal subjects. What could you possibly offer me other than a tight, wet cunt?”
a stunned silence befalls you, and humiliation screws your expression into one of pathetic submission, realizing that he would never care for you the way you care for him. it would be something you would have to live with, after all. being his set of holes when he needed his balls drained, but an afterthought any other time.
his sapphire gaze flickers back to your face, and though he doesn’t smile, there’s an aura of satisfaction and victory that engulfs him, washing over you, too. “Being your father allows me so much more power. Over Midland. Over your mother. And over you, my pert, little plaything.”
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theactorbat · 1 year
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I’m sorry but I’m SICK of merthur fanfics where Merlin is this delicate little submissive flower this man is TERRIFYING. He is a literal force of nature. If you wanna write sub Merlin he has to be a full fledged BRAT. He is hilarious and mouthy and insolent and that wouldn’t change in bed😭💀
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soullessdianthus · 9 months
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14 & 15 with Simon??? Can be separate !
A/N: Apologies in advance, I was a little tipsy while writing this. (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄) Also sorry for the wait, I had written a whole different version of your request, but it wasn't sticking right with me. Brat taming with lieutenant Ghost in his office! They just like to tease each other. :3
𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 | “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.” + “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.”
Warnings: established relationship, protective!Ghost?, smut (rough, p in v, brat taming, dom/sub dynamics?)
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━ The hell was that? ━ His voice was sharp and full of venom, like always. Full of disappointment, soaking to the core of human flesh. Burning skin, muscles and bones like acid. 
Only the loud thud of the closed doors to his office broke the tension hanging in the air. 
━ What?
You wanted him to say it out loud, to name the reason for his outburst. You were testing his boundaries today, playing with fire. And what did your grandmother tell you? Be careful or you’ll burn your fingers.
That day something was a bit odd about the lieutenant. You noticed how his broad shoulders tensed as he walked you to his office, the way he clenched his fists hanging by his sides, how agitated he was.
Most of the soldiers around the base didn’t even notice those little details, but you did. 
━ Don’t act clueless, sergeant.
Oh, you knew perfectly well what you did wrong. Talking in an undermining way to your superior in front of the recruits? A dangerous game you’ve been playing. He didn’t like being so insolently challenged. 
━ All I did was just pinpointing how you articulate in a demeaning way towards the recruits. You think they’ll stay for long, after being called names? ━ You stood still in front of his desk, hands neatly crossed behind your lower back. After a second you added his rank to stay professional. ━ Sir.
━ Since when do you care about the rookies? Ah, ‘cause you like ‘em, don’t you? You’re seekin’ their attention, isn’t that right? Some little, pathetic boy to play with? 
His warm breath, you could feel it on the back of your neck. Ghost was standing right behind you, his figure towering over yours. Lieutenant tried to intimidate you, to scare you a little. Like in the good, old days. 
━ They are nicer and more eloquent to talk to than you, that’s for sure. You think you’re better than everyone else, do you? Too big of an ego perhaps? 
You finished the sentence with confidence, a stupid smirk twisting the corners of your mouth. 
You weren’t victorious for long. 
Ghost moved quickly, grabbing your hands and locking them where you put them yourself - behind. His other palm pushed the back of your neck into the cold space of his desk. Single strands of your hair tickled his veiny wrist. 
Your whole upper body was pressed tightly to the surface, your left cheek meeting the solid facet. You gasped, being treated so… roughly all of the sudden. 
But wasn’t that what you wanted from the sole beginning?  
━ I think you’re forgetting your place, sergeant ━ Ghost stepped closer towards your pinned body, the front of his clothed thighs and pelvis rubbing against your rear. ━ Got a lil’ bit ahead of yourself. You need a reminder, where do you belong. 
You squirmed under his tight grip, struggling against his immaculate strength. The coiling, irritating sensation began to warm your legs up. But you didn’t protest verbally, not once. 
He released your pretty neck, it could be broken so easily if he only wanted to. The man quickly undid your cargo pants and slid them down your thighs along with your underwear. 
Drenched underwear, the wet stain couldn’t be missed. Not by the lieutenant. 
━ When I’m done with you, you ain’t gonna walk tomorrow, sweetheart. ━ Ghost said near to your ear, when the outside of his calloused palm, teased your inner thighs, slowly climbing up and returning down. 
Who could have thought that such a cold brute as Simon Riley could caress you so gently? But he did that on purpose. To prolong your torture. The wait.  
━ No more sweet talkin’ to those recruits ━ it was an order, de facto, no room for a civilized discussion left. ━ The next time you look at ‘em, I’m goin’ to break their fuckin’ arms.
How could such a violent threat make you so aroused at the same time? Did that make you a degenerate? Fuck. 
You were fucked in the head.
Lieutenant was standing so close, you could feel when he took care of his own trousers and finally released his swollen cock from its confinement. Without any further warning he began forcing his way inside of your silky, dripping walls.
The sudden intrusion made you mewl underneath him, back collapsing almost like you tried to escape.
━ Come on, you can take more than that. 
Within the next firm thrust, Ghost bottomed out, stretching your aroused cunt around his pulsating shaft. He quickly picked out a pace so brutal and fast, almost vulgar, that made you gasp for air.
Ghost was taking all his anger and jealousy on poor you. 
He made your body move rapidly forward with each thrust, your lips parting and mouth falling open. Lieutenant’s office was soon filled with your moans of pleasure, thoughts focused on the glorious feeling of him stuffing your pussy full. 
Ghost held your hands behind your back as he kept pounding into your needy cunt. His other arm keeping your hips steady, his fingers digging so deep into your flesh that it’d certainly bruise the next day. 
Good, he had to leave some marks. So the rookies knew you were his.
━ That’s a good girl ━ he praised you briefly ━ keep moanin’, so they can hear you clearly. Who makes you feel this good, eh? 
He didn’t slow down at all, yet he demanded a response when you could barely focus on anything else than feeling of him. Ghost breaths were becoming louder, almost like a little grunts. You could hear them even through his skull mask, he still had kept on. 
━ Y-You, Ghost. ━ You spat out, barely audible. You were getting closer and closer to your sweet release, but of course he had to take that from you. 
When your automatic mumbling didn’t satisfy him, he pulled out all of his length, leaving you aching for his touch, unsatisfied. Empty.
Lieutenant had to control each aspect of this situation. He had to have an audit over you. Entirely. 
━ That’s not the right answer. ━ The hand that was digging into your hip bone, began to stroke gently down your spine. Each brush of his hand, sending you a warm tingle down your already sore limbs. 
Oh, how you loved his touch.
━ Yo-You, sir. 
━ That’s better. 
Ghost once again began to thrust into you in a merciless rhythm. If your hands were free at the moment, you would surely grip the hard edges of the desk and hold onto your dear life. The way he treated you like an object he could take it all out on you, made you crumble between his fingers.
You little degenerate. 
He managed to contain himself from bursting until you became a literal, whimpering mess underneath him. The delirious feeling of your orgasm blinded you for a few seconds and enhanced each sensation, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes. Ghost barely held back when your inner walls began clenching on him, inviting him to finish too.
So he did - the spurts of his warm cum painted your pussy on the inside as you laid limp, upper half spreaded over his desk. Ghost finally released your poor, aching wrists and put his palm across the furniture’s surface, trying to catch his breath.
There were some days when Ghost was too rough and absolutely wasn’t thinking about how sore you’ll be the next day. So when you were both done, the guilt began to build up inside of his head. 
━ You’re my needy thing, right? ━ He asked rhetorically, before placing a kiss over your forehead. Through that stupid mask of course.
━ All yours, Simon. Always.
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taintandviolent · 17 days
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bend without breaking ; Jimmy Darling x reader
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summary and word count: 4.4K! requested by @sugarr-and-spicee. you get jealous of Maggie Esmeralda, and decide to give Jimmy a taste of his own medicine. Angst, smut and a little fluff ensues.
w a r n i n g s: contortionist!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, angst, jealousy themes, rough sex, alcohol mention, clunky writing, uhhhhhhhh Jimmy being real handsy and kinda' manhandling reader a bit. maggie esmeralda hate.
a/n: written partially at work, so if it's clunky or disjointed I apologize!! divder by cafekitsune!
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full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here!
It's not like you owned him or anything. It's not even like he really even cared about you outside of the scope of the general, amiable 'member of the troupe' kind of relationship. Now, of age, he flirted with you casually, like he did all the girls, but you, as delusional as it may have been, thought you had something special – because boy, oh boy, did you care about him. You were obsessed with Jimmy Darling, in all ways possible. 
You'd grown up alongside him, from the age of sixteen when you got kicked out for a plethora of reasons, and ran away to the traveling freak show that was opportunely in town. It had taken the owner, Elsa Mars, almost all day to be convinced, but when you bent over backwards, putting your head through your legs and pleaded with her upside down, a sly smile spread across her thin, aging lips.
You thought that Jimmy might’ve fancied you – that was until Maggie came along. The liar. The fraud. The insolent little brat that she was. She’d taken a liking to Jimmy, and seemed to snatch up every second he was alone – something that you used to do. He had fallen for her fortune teller act, but you certainly hadn’t. Your aunt had been a fortune teller and had possessed a true and genuine gift. This broad did nothing but spin silly little tales about misfortune and good luck, generic things that any person could identify with. 
You’d decided to test the waters one hot summer afternoon. It was before the show, and Jimmy was preoccupied setting up the cash box. With your skirt in your hand, swishing it back and forth, you strolled up to him feeling as giddy as ever. It was rare that you didn’t feel bubbly when you were around him – he had that effect on you. Before you spoke, you took in his appearance; a sheen of glistening sweat covered his bare, tanned shoulders, his caramel-coloured locks hung in a cluster on his forehead, and his dark, brown eyes swept over the cash as he counted it, arranging the tickets neatly next to the box. 
“Hey Jimmy,” you cooed. “Need any help?”
Without looking up, he replied: “Nah, doll. I’m just about finished.” 
“Well, maybe I could help you with whatever you’re doing next…” 
“If I need ya’, I’ll find ya, sweetheart.” 
“Or you could find Maggie.” 
“She’s in her trailer.” 
Your heart quivered and sunk, cracking like a delicate porcelain vase. He already knew; he’d already found her. 
“Of course she is, and of course you’d know that.” 
He grinned crookedly, exhaled out of his nose and shut the cash box, turning the key. He looked at you then, with a pointed gaze. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean? Huh?” 
Your brows rose high on your head, feigning innocence. He, of course, with all his charm and wit, saw right through it. You didn’t care. “Oh, nothing , Jimmy. Nothing at all.” 
“Sure, dollface, sure. You wouldn’t be jealous, now would ya?” 
“Of her? I’d be more jealous of a drowned rat in a sewer than I would be of Maggie.”
With that, you stomped off, your steps crunching the tall grasses that covered the field you called home for this month. Your heart was pounding, your cheeks had flushed. Feeling like a fool, you marched right to your trailer, taking great care to slam the door as hard as you could. 
You spun around, facing the door as thought he was behind it. “How dare he think I’m jealous of her ! That horrible woman, and he thinks – oooooh! ” You clenched your fists, shaking them at the door. 
It had taken you two hours to calm down. Two hours of pacing your small bedroom, fussing with your appearance and reading a magazine you’d picked up in town last week. It also took you two hours to come up with what you thought was the revenge plan of the century. 
An hour later, you found yourself at the local diner, schmoozing with a cute young man in his early twenties. You’d batted your fluffy lashes and pouted your lips and with hardly a few words, you had him wrapped around your manicured finger. He’d bought you a milkshake, which you were nursing, taking small sips in between answers.
“You’re sure you won’t run out of this diner screaming?” 
“No - no. I promise I won’t.” 
“I’m a travelling performer… I’m only here for a few more weeks. I work at the Freak Show in the field down the road.”
“What do you do?” He asked, cautiously, looking you over your body with a suddenly very critical eye. To most, you looked normal . Sure, you were a little longer and lithe than some girls your age, but you didn’t fit the bill of a freak. That was until you bent and contorted your body into the most mystifying, inappropriate positions that they had ever seen a woman in. 
“I’m a…” you leaned in, dipping your chin to your chest, keeping your gaze sternly locked on his. “A… contortionist.” 
“A what?” 
Oh, what a dumb bunny . He was cute, you’d give him that; his pretty, sea-blue eyes, pink lips and dirty blonde hair that had been perfectly styled. The clincher was that he had two very nice hands – strong, and veiny. The truth of the matter was that you preferred Jimmy Darling’s hands – but he didn’t need to know that. To him, this would be a threat, and if everything went according to plan, Jimmy would be red with anger, furiously jealous and looking as though he must bust a vein. 
“I’m flexible. Very flexible.” 
His eyes lit up. It was a predictable response, and one you’d seen before. Men were grotesque, they liked the idea of bending a woman into unique positions like a jointed doll, just to see her body in a fresh, new way. They liked the thought of fucking you while you were bent over backwards, folded up neatly. 
The waitress brought your food; you’d only ordered a side of fries, which you dipped into the remainder of your shake. A habit that you’d learned from Amazon Eve – it was easily the most delicious combo you’d ever tasted. As you two ate, the conversation drifted naturally. You laid on the charm heavy. Every other response contained a compliment, telling him how handsome he was, how you’d never seen a boy as cute, so on and so forth. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. And you. 
Afterwards, he paid and held the door open for you. As any gentleman should, he wasn’t earning any points with you. Only one man could… 
“Can I come see your show?” He asked, playing idly with your fingers.
You reached over and yanked one of the flyers from the nearby telephone pole, folded it in fours, and pressed your lips to the paper, leaving a crimson mark. You tucked it in the man’s shirt pocket. 
“See you tonight. Tell ‘em that I sent you. Front row seats.” 
He stammered out an agreement, looking flustered. With a wink, you were sauntering back down the sidewalk. The great big sun, orange and warm, was making its heavy, tired descent back into the horizon, and you quickened your pace. The last thing you needed was Elsa being upset at your disappearance.
As you made your way back to the field, you hummed the song that was playing in the diner and skipped. There was something to be said about the butterflies in your stomach, though you couldn’t discern whether or not they were for the fact that you were going to see that man in the audience. You suspected not. Jimmy Darling would be jealous and that was the thought that sent you. 
Later that night, as the calliope played, your hands glided up over the curves of your thighs, and over your sides, gracefully, like a burlesque performer teasing a reveal. With one movement, you brought your leg up to your head, pulling it tight. A few oooh’s and chortling chuckles from men in the audience dotted the room. With floaty, delicate movements, you slid down into the splits, never losing your bright smile in the process. More pleased reactions and some applause. You crossed the stage in backbends, working the crowd as they cheered for you. 
At the final backbend, you sunk to your stomach, laying on the floor. You were just nearly at the edge of the stage, and directly in front of you was your diner boy. His eyes were locked on you, enchanted, enrapt and obsessed like a dog staring at a fresh cut of sirloin. With a come-hither smile, you reached out and swept your hand along his jawline before tapping his chin with a single finger. You sucked in a deep breath and brought your legs forward, curving your spine around until your feet were planted on either side of your face. 
The crowd gasped in horror, and little girls shielded their eyes, expecting to hear the dull crack of your spine as it snapped in two. But Diner Boy was fascinated, and still staring at you. He was looking at your body, the unnatural curve of it, and the way that you’d brought your cunt somehow closer to his face. As the seconds passed, he looked more and more like a dog to you, hungry and slobbering. 
You smiled, scanning the crowd again. Your eyes drifted to the corner of the stage, where Jimmy stood against one of the support poles, arms crossed. At least, despite Maggie, he’d retained his habit of watching every performance you did – though this one, he didn’t look as delighted with. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth were pointed down in an angry frown, his eyes narrowing at the little things you did to entice Diner Boy. You grinned at Jimmy, acknowledging him and tapped the toes of your shoes childishly against the stage before unfolding your body again. 
The rest of your show finished without a hitch, and Diner Boy played his part very well. He took in every moment, and at one point, when you reached your hand out to him, he interlaced his fingers with yours. A nice touch. When you looked back to where Jimmy was, he was gone. You smiled inwardly, prideful and gratified by the way your devious little plan had gone.
As soon as you went off-stage, Jimmy grabbed you by your arm, gripping your bicep hard. Almost too hard. You winced. “What was that about?” 
“What? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Casually, you yanked your arm from his grip and began to polish your nails on the fabric of your shirt. 
“Cut it out! You know what. Who was the guy in the audience? You sure were payin’ him a lot of attention.” 
His words, though loud, were a little slurred, his breath smelled of alcohol; you could tell that he'd taken a few gulps of liquid confidence before approaching you. You didn't mind; your father used to say that the truth came out with booze. You hoped that would remain true with Jimmy and he'd spill his guts to you.
“Just someone I met at the diner, Jimmy. Why are you getting so heated over him? You flirt with girls in the audience all the time.” 
“It’s part of the act, doll! You know I have to act a certain way, I can’t –” 
“Can’t what? Stand to love me?” 
Jimmy stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging slack. His chest rose and fell with hot, angry breaths.
"Just because I can bend without breaking doesn't mean my heart can, Jimmy."
“Dollface, wait.” 
“No.” 
You pushed yourself through the flaps of the tent, storming off towards your trailer. Jimmy followed close behind, calling your name.
“Doll, c’mon, hang on a minute!” 
“No, Jimmy. Maybe Maggie can hang on a minute .” 
“Hey!” He bellowed, catching your arm again. You pressed your back against your trailer’s door, again, yanking it away from him and crossing them tightly across your chest. Your heart thudded against your ribs, deeply delighted at the fact that he was chasing you, pursuing you with an overbearing jealousy. 
“What.” 
“Can we just…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “...talk about this a second?” 
“Sure.” You snapped. 
Jimmy’s black coffee eyes scanned over you, searching your face for some semblance of softness. He found nothing but a tightly pressed line of lips and a cold gaze.  
“What’s your problem, huh? I can’t flirt with other guys?” you finally asked, your stern voice shattering the awkward silence. 
He shook his head, almost sheepishly. “I don’t like seein’ it. I know they don’t care about you.”
“And you do?” 
Jimmy swallowed again, forcing the lump in his throat down. For the past several years, you’d been a constant in his life, by his side, and taking all his showman flirtations in stride. You’d never once fired back at him, and he thought that it was because you could care less about what he did or who he flirted with. Against the voices in his head, Jimmy pacified the anger in his gut by leaning forward to crush his lips against your red ones, tasting the sweetness of whatever gum you’d been chewing before the show. 
He lingered there a moment before his conjoined digits made their way up your waist, gripping it softly. He waited for you to soften, to ease into his kiss, but you didn’t. You stood your ground, arms still pressed against your breasts. You intentionally filled your mind with thoughts of Maggie Esmeralda and how close he’d gotten with her. You thought of all the times that he flirted with girls in the audience, damn near kissing them with how far he’d lean off stage during his song. 
“Baby, please…” You blinked. His low, smooth voice pulled you out of your hateful thoughts.
With a heavy sigh, you murmured, “I want to hear you say it, Jimmy.” 
“Say what?” 
“You know what.” 
The muscles in his jaw fluttered as he clenched them, grinding his teeth hard. Jimmy spent his whole life being put on the spot, but it never got any easier. Especially not in front of you – the girl he’d fallen hardest for. He inhaled, puffing his chest out and mustering up all the confidence he had. 
“I don’t like seein’ you flirt with other guys… ‘cause… I wish it was me.” 
“Who’s jealous now, huh?”
“I am.” He looked at your lips, then back up to your eyes. A cricket started off somewhere in the field, and your attention flitted off towards it, only to have Jimmy’s large, warm hand bring you back. “Hey.” 
He kissed you again, his strong tongue darting out to taste you again, his plush lips closing around your bottom lip to suck it gently. This time, an undulating warmth erupted deep in your core. You couldn’t help but melt into him and your arms relinquished their position, dropping heavily to your sides. Your fingers reach forward to claw at his shirt, just above the waistline of his jeans and instead latch onto his belt loops, pulling him closer at the hips.
You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, swirling your tongue with his. Mingled with his personal taste, he tasted like warm honey and the liquor you smelled on his breath earlier. Not always admirable, it was something that you knew him to dabble in when his mother wasn’t looking. More often than not, he’d sneak some booze, saying it calmed his nerves before and after shows. You didn’t mind; in fact, you wondered what it would be like to have a drunk Jimmy, sloppy and unable to control himself around you. 
“I’ve waited a long time for this…” you broke the kiss, breathlessly whispering over his lips.
“Me too, honey. Me too.”  
Keeping your eyes on him, you blindly felt behind your back, where the handle of your trailer was digging into your soft flesh. You yanked it open, and took a fistful of Jimmy Darling’s shirt, tugging him inside. 
It was like someone had fired a gun and Jimmy was a racehorse. He charged at you, his big, conjoined fingers wrapping tightly around your hips on either side, kneading the flesh like dough. He kissed you again, hot and in a hurry, like you only had a few minutes to do whatever it was you were going to do. With your hands on his pectoral muscles, you pushed him off gently, just enough to get a look at his face. 
He, being mere centimeters from your breasts, wasn’t looking at your face. His attention was clearly elsewhere. A low, rumbling groan vibrated through his throat as he craned forward to kiss your skin. 
“Jimmy, baby, slow down…” 
Between feverish kisses to your neck and chest, he muttered: “I can’t, I’m sorry.” 
He had you where he wanted you, after so long, and he wasn’t going to let that slip through his fingers this time. Jimmy muscled you backwards, urging you towards the small hallway where your bedroom was. He was all hard-working muscle. Having done set-up for so many years  had lined his body in bulky strength, the kind of strength that you only get from hard labour. So, when he started guiding you backwards, you could do little to protest. 
“Jimmy, my god, what’s the rush?” 
“I want you bad, baby… bad.” As proof, he urged his hips against yours; the hot rigidness of his erection pressing into your hip bone. You let out a surprised mewl, and wrapped your arms around his warm neck, fingers slipping into his short-cut hair. His lips found yours again as the backs of your thighs hit the mattress. He kissed once and playfully, shoved you down. You bounced twice on the bed, looking up at him with a heavy, wanton gaze. 
“I’m all yours, Jimmy Darling. All yours.” 
Jimmy didn’t say anything, just sunk to his knees, his hands finding the stretchy hem of your sequined shorts. He pulled them down in a swift jerk, before moving right back up to your waist. Those striped tights were next. He rolled them down off your thighs and over your knees; which fell apart, exposing the already-damp satin of your underwear. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him as he worked.
He was in too much of a hurry to bother taking off your shirt, instead just gathering the fabric and pushing it up over your breasts, letting them bounce free. He may have been raised a gentleman, but he wasn't immune to the tantalizing sight of some tits -- especially when they belonged to a girl he'd been lusting over for months now. 
"God damn, baby. Look at those." 
You couldn't help but blush, feeling your cheeks grow hot at his compliments. You bowed your head, casting your eyes to the floor. You were so stern before -- what had happened? Silly question. You knew; he was undressing you in your trailer, all that confidence had melted away underneath his strong, fused fingers.
“Jimmy, promise you won’t flirt with Maggie anymore…” 
He scoffed. “She’s nothin’ to me, honey. Gals like her are a dime a dozen.” He pressed his lips to your kneecaps before kissing his way up your thighs.  You whimpered, your head lolling heavily back between your shoulders. You thought about revealing that she wasn’t a real fortune teller, but Jimmy’s mouth neared your cunt, and the thought disintegrated. 
“...my god…” you breathed, your lids drifting shut. Jimmy nuzzled his face and lips against your soft mound, the hard bridge of his nose teasing at your soaked slit.
“You like that, baby?” 
You nodded, again, whimpering. He pressed his fingers slowly against your soft mound, over the fabric. Feeling the puddle that had settled into your underwear made Jimmy clench his teeth, hissing loud through them. With one hand, Jimmy maneuvered your underwear down your thighs. Once they were off, he tossed them carelessly behind him – you’d find them a day later in your kitchen sink. Now exposed, you gazed at him sheepishly, for the first time since he'd started kissing you. His eyes fixated on the wetness that glistened in the low-light of the trailer.
"I had no idea..." he said, the pad of his thumb sweeping over your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe in lustful agony, aching desperately. 
"No idea what?" You breathed.
"To be honest with you, that you liked me that much..." 
You leaned forward, taking his chin into the palm of your hand. You stroked it gently, falling deep into his eyes. "Jimmy... I've wanted you since before I could have you." 
You looked on at his face in admiration as the thoughts played out, the realization of what you meant dawning on him. He grinned his bright, lopsided grin and his large hands slid up your legs, caressing the outside of your thighs thoughtfully.
"Baaaby," he hummed before dipping his head down. You gasped, your lids drifting shut in ecstasy as you felt his breath rush over you -- you knew what was coming; one deep sweep of his tongue along the length of your cunt, between your folds to taste you, to savour your silken wetness. Burying his nose in your pussy, Jimmy alternated between using the strong tip of his tongue to flick at your sensitive spots and lapping at your clit with a flattened, thick tongue. Adventurous and hungry, he'd venture further down to get a mouthful of your sweet, heady wetness and would murmur how good you tasted into your cunt -- the vibrations of his voice made you shiver every time. 
After a few minutes of this, you felt the inner core of your legs begin to shake every time he made contact with your clit, your tummy tightening in a warning clench. You reached forward, gripping his head on either side, yanking him softly off your cunt.
To your relief, he straightened up, chin glistening with your fluids. He swallowed you down, growling in satisfaction; the intimacy of tasting your lover's ejaculate was unparalleled, and when your eyes finally opened, they met Jimmy's lust blown ones. He was ready, and so were you. 
"Fuck me," you said, nodding. 
Jimmy made quick work of undressing, pulling his briefs down over his ass cheeks before he lined his red-tipped cock up with your leaking slit, bumping into the sensitive bundle of nerves a few times before he stuck you. He didn't ease in, just bottomed out and you let out a pleasurable yowl, tossing your head back at the sensation of being so full as his thick cock violated you, slipping against your slick walls. He found a rhythm, thrusting his cock up into you as deep as he could. You clenched hard around him, pulling a groan from deep within his chest. He pulled out, looking down at your sopping wet and now reddened cunt.
"'Hoh' my god, baby... do that again." 
He gripped your hips hard, pulling you roughly onto his cock. You clenched again, swallowing him into you. The tip disappeared inside you, hot and leaking, and he held himself there, completely engrossed in the sensations. You clenched again, pulling him further in and Jimmy's head fell back, his hips bucking hard out of instinct. You both found a hurried rhythm, grinding and rolling against each other with voracious desire. 
As he thrust into you, Jimmy watched you intently, holding onto you tight, his thumbs working your hips, kneading them in small circles. He looked starved for your image, the way that his eyes climbed from your hips to your breasts to your face and back down again. You let out a particularly ecstasy-ridden moan, and Jimmy dug his fingers into your hips. 
Rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts, you look down, watching as his thick cock pumped in and out of you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and Jimmy's dark eyes followed them as they moved.   
"Huuuh... I'm gonna' lose it, baby... you feel so god damned good..."
"Give it to me," you coax, moaning deeply. His thrusts get faster, more feverish and uneven, and before you can say another word, his expression contorted, brows pulling together in pleasured agony. You felt the warmth of his cum as he filled you up with a few spurts, but kept pumping until it leaked out the sides, groaning deeply. Your orgasm raced towards you quickly after that, pulsing around him in a hungry grip. 
With a heavy sigh, Jimmy pulled his softening cock from your cunt and flopped heavily onto the bed onto his back. Your chest rose and fell with every laboured breath, sweat streaming from every pore. Both of you, collapsed in lust, saying nothing, just enjoying the warm scent of sex that lingered in the air. Soon, your sappy gaze drifted from the ceiling to Jimmy. His fawn coloured hair clung to his forehead in sweaty clumps, his cheeks flushed. You'd done that. Made him jealous until he fucked you silly. You smiled inwardly, and adjusted your head on the small mattress. 
"Turn the fan on, Jimmy, it's hot." 
Jimmy leaned over, flipping the small metal switch. The fan rattled to life, blades spinning and washing your sweaty skin with a soft breeze of cooler air. He leaned back, enjoying the change in temperature. 
"I meant what I said, dollface. Maggie's nothin' to me now that we're uh..." 
You pressed your lips against his softly, smiling into the kiss. "We're what?" 
"Y'know..." 
"Fucking each other like teenagers?" 
"More than that, baby. More than that."
You weren't sure what that meant yet, but you weren't about to question a bit of it. You paused, furrowing your brows. You realized that Diner Boy had probably expected to see you after the show, but you hadn't shown. You hadn't even thought about him, far too busy with Jimmy's lips to even remember he was there.
"What?" Jimmy asked, concerned.
"I wonder if he was waiting for me..."
"I hope he was, and I hope he figured out real quick that you weren't comin'."
You kissed him again, inhaling his scent. Jimmy hummed into your lips, pulling you atop of him, his face bright with adoration.
He stayed in your trailer that night, and you two fucked each other, explored each other's bodies repeatedly. When the morning sun peeked through your lacy curtains and your lids peeled apart, a yawn ripping through your mouth... you wondered if Maggie Esmeralda saw that coming.
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random-brushstrokes · 2 months
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Adriana Bisi Fabbri - Self Portrait (1914-15)
"She died a few days ago. Her name was Adriana Bisi. She was a woman. Few of those who saw her drawings; who followed her silent battle with coughs and pencil blows; who heard the implacable laughter of her caricatures dying in the passionate tremor of a sob, imagined that Adrì was a woman. Her art truly had the edge of the male and the nervousness of the fighter. She knew it and laughed about it with her large, slightly faded mouth that gave her I don't know what beauty. She happened to be here one evening in May, four years ago. Nobody knew her. She sat calmly between us, she placed a roll of cartoons on the table and one by one she showed us the terrible "monsters" before her eyes […]. From that first evening Adrì was the companion in our battles. […] Adrì was a handsome and insolent male. He wanted to throw traditions and skirts in the air. He wanted to run. Crumple whatever came to hand. Throwing stones like a brat and drawing the first atrocious caricatures of him in notebooks […]. She told me this one day, while she was showing me some paintings, and with anxious glances she was keeping an eye on I don't know how many pots were boiling on the kitchen stove. « […] Intelligence has no sex. I am, I want – do you understand what I want? – be an artist. Then I will, of course, be a woman. […] »And she ran to the pots, putting her face above the smoke of her children's food […]. She died. She is unknown to most. She is unknown even to herself. Her little ones remain in the empty house - the creatures of the flesh - and her paintings remain - the creatures of the soul - sick from too much light and too much fever.
Poor Adrì. We loved her." (source)
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swordcreature · 5 months
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Rolan deserves to get pegged. Someone needs to come fuck the brat out of him.
i will take this sacrifice for us all. i will fuck the brat completely out of Rolan. you are all welcome!
but in all seriousness. i had so much fun writing this. i know this wasn't a request per se but 3,000 words later and here we are. our boy just really needed someone to fuck him with the magical strap (that we are all going to pretend is a very real thing that exists in his world. along with the magical bottle of oil/lube).
it doesn't really work anyway
i couldn't think what to name this monster so excuse the stupid title, it fits into like on tiny part but it made me laugh so. yeah.
Now I Know My ABCs
Rolan x Reader
“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” “Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on.”
Tags: Explicit Sexual Content MDNI/18+, Pegging, Anal Fingering
Word Count: 3,028 | [Read on AO3]
Okay, so, in hindsight, calling Rolan “the biggest fucking brat to ever grace the mortal realm” probably wasn’t your finest move. But gods if it wasn’t completely fucking accurate.  
All day he was wondering around the tower, nit picking the work you so graciously volunteered as you both tried to organize the mess Lorroakan left behind after his completely deserved demise.  
“Oh, this is interesting come look at this,” Rolan ushered you over to the shelf you had been working on before lunch. You walked over, brow furrowed as you looked at the tomes he pointed to: a copy of Illusionary Arcana: A Complete Study and Illusion: A Spellcaster’s Guide to the Unreal. “I had no idea the Common language had changed recently, did you?” 
“Here we fucking go.” 
“Surely that must have been the case, otherwise this book would have been placed before Illusionary Arcana, yes?” You wanted to smack the disingenuous look of confusion off his smug face.  
“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” You flipped the position of the books.  
“Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on,” he offered back, facing the books with a matter-of-fact expression as though they were discussing breakfast plans or the weather.  
“Maybe, you should find someone else who is willing to put up with your contemptible drivel so-”  
“I’m surprised someone who does not know their alphabet knows what contemptible means.”  
Your hands balled into fists at your sides and your nostrils flared. You were doing this for free. It would be a cold day in the Hells before you continued to let him talk to you like that.  
Without saying a word, you turned scanning the room for where you laid your things. This caught Rolan’s attention; he eyed you over his shoulder as he continued to fiddle with the row of books. 
“What are you doing?” he asked, unphased. 
“Leaving.” This at least elicited some sort of reaction, his head whipping around to watch you grab your things.  
“Why? You said you would assist me. And we still have two more cases to go today if we are to remain on track.” His face scrunched in frustration. He couldn’t honestly expect you to just continue on as though he hadn’t just acted like a complete son of a bitch, right? 
“Are you serious- ‘Why?’ Because Rolan, today you have been-” well, you know what came next. He didn’t take it lightly. 
“I- you- you insolent little witch!  I’d rather be a brat than being a classless degenerate like you!” He took an angry step towards you. 
“Classless? You arrogant, pretentious arsehole!”  
“Indolent, mindless fool!” Then another. 
“Hateful wretch!” 
“Talentless hack!” He was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face as he stared down the length of his nose at you. It was a shame he was such a knob head, because he was so nice to look at, even from this angle.  
“You-” you paused, trying to think of the most poetic way to tell him that he could take every book in his big fancy tower and shove it right up his ass.  
But something else came to mind.  
With a scowl, you sank your hands into the front of his robes and yanked him downward, forcing his lips against your own. Much to your surprise, and delight if you wanted to be completely honest, he relented, allowing himself to be kissed with an almost bruising intensity.  
You tore your lips away. The look on Rolan’s face at the loss of contact would have made you laugh if you weren’t so fucking fed up with him. His chest was heaving as though he had just ran a mile around the tower, and the way your stomach twisted at the sight made you even more frustrated. Stupid wizard with his handsome face and pretty lips.  
You pushed him back against the nearest bookcase, hard enough that a book tumbled from its home high above you. Rolan’s eyes were fire and hunger as he glared at you, silently urging you to continue what you started. You pressed yourself flush to his chest, noses touching, lips barely a hair apart.  
He craned his neck lower to try and catch you in a kiss, but you were quicker, fueled by an intense need to see this man squirm. 
“Now now, Rolan. Where are your manners?” You chastised with a click of your tongue. “Say please.” 
He swallowed thickly and grit his teeth. The room fell silent as seconds ticked by, Rolan seemingly weighing his words.  
Just as you thought he was going to end whatever this was, too proud to continue, he muttered out, almost unintelligibly, “Please.”  
You smiled sweetly, and then you were slotting your mouth over his, kissing with as much force as before. Your hand snaked into his hair, dragging your nails roughly against his scalp, tugging at the roots. The sound he made in response was nothing short of a growl. Oh did it spur you on.  
Your free hand squeezed between your bodies to palm over the erection pinned against his thigh. Even under his robes and trousers you could tell he was hot, long, and so very hard. You pet his cock with a firm touch through several layers of clothes, Rolan forcing his hips forward in response.  
After a few tentative strokes, you removed your hand completely – pulling yourself backwards slightly so that he had nothing to grind himself against. He whined in frustration.  
“Mmm, I don’t think you deserve that yet, do you?” You pressed your lips to his ear, your tongue slipping out to follow the outer shell. Rolan shivered. “You’ve been a little brat today, Rolan. I don’t think you deserve to be touched yet.” 
For the first time since you met him, Rolan had nothing to say. His head hung low, almost hitting your shoulder as he clenched his jaw.  
“You think you’re so clever, with that sharp tongue. But I'm going to make you forget how to speak, pretty little wizard.” His breath hitched, stopped dead in his throat. “Only if you’re good, though. Okay?” Rolan nodded eagerly, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “Okay. Now, go be a dear and take your clothes off for me, hmm?”  
Rolan fumbled forward as you stepped away from the bookcase. His hands shook as he undressed, clumsily unlacing his trousers to slide them off, along with his underclothes. You walked over to sit on the edge of his desk and watched as he pulled his robes from his shoulders. He murmured something to himself that you couldn’t quite discern, but you didn’t care enough to push. Because with everything discarded to the floor, Rolan stood completely bare, cock jutting upwards from a dark swatch of hair on his groin. It was already leaking with excitement. 
He looked up to find you staring, leering at his lithe form in appreciation. It must have been written on your face because the bastard’s lips quirked up in a smug grin. That wouldn’t do. You needed to wipe that smirk off of his face. 
You hopped off the desk’s edge and pointed towards it. Rolan eyed you with suspicion but acquiesced, moving so that he stood between you and it. Raising a hand to your mouth, you spit into your palm, eyes fixed on his. Your hand found his erection, spreading your saliva down his length in one motion.  
Rolan’s chest heaved with a moan, thrusting into your hand for more. He knew as soon as it happened that he had made a mistake; you removed your hand from him and gave him a pointed look.  
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’ll be still, I promise.” 
You had to bite back a smile as how desperate he sounded from just a few touches. But an apology did sound good on his lips. So, you began stroking him again, fisting over his shaft with a tight grip. Rolan’s thighs shook with the exertion needed to keep himself still and little whimpers left his mouth with every pass of your hand.  
And then you stop, completely removing your hand from him. Before he could even make a sound in protest, though, you grabbed his hips and spun him in place so that his rear was pressed to your front. One hand smoothed its way up his spine, settling between his shoulder blades. And with a firm shove, you urged him to bend so that his chest lay on the cool wood of the desk.  
Your free hand circled his ass, caressing the smooth, plump skin. A sharp thwack echoed through the room as your hand lifted and then connected with his rear. Rolan yelped, jolting forward slightly, but didn’t complain – in fact you were almost positive his hips canted against the desk in a desperate grind for friction. You repeated the action again, bringing your hand down to smack him with enough force to leave a darkened handprint. Rolan’s moan was high pitched and needy as he braced himself for another smack that didn’t come. 
Both hands now groped at his cheeks spreading him so that you could see all of him – every last inch of his red skin heated in desire as he keened below you. Leaning forward, you reached around to press two fingers to his lips and Rolan accepted them greedily. His hot tongue laved over your digits, coating them in his saliva. You pulled them out with a pop to tease at his hole, the wetness of his spit making him slick enough to dip a finger in to the second knuckle.  
Gods he looked so good taking you, back arched to offer himself more fully, desperate whines slipping from his lips. You worked your finger in and out as he rocked his hips against the desk. For a moment you thought about stopping – chastising him for seeking his pleasure without your permission. But you most certainly did not have the willpower to do so as you watched him take your finger down to the last knuckle. You were only mortal after all. 
“Think you can take another?” you asked, tone sultry and low, though your question was sincere; you wanted to make sure you weren’t overstepping. He responded with an eager, shaky nod and a soft gasp. 
Mumbling a spell under your breath, a small vial of oil appeared in your palm out of thin air. You uncorked it with your teeth and, with a very disappointed whine from Rolan, removed yourself from inside him to slather some of the liquid over your fingers.  
The noise he made when you returned them to prod at his hole was nothing short of debauched – for a moment you thought he may cum right there. But he took the added stretch in stride, panting as you began to set a rhythm.  
You were satisfied with your work, the man beneath you squirming and gasping and not saying a godsdamned word.  
That is, until he turned his head to the side, peering at you from the corner of his eye to beg, “More.” 
That wouldn’t do. He was still able to form a coherent thought and that just wasn’t going to work for you.  
You slipped both fingers from his ass in one quick motion. Rolan, although quivering and breathless, looked as though he was going to object, to say something that surely would make your blood pressure rise. Your free hand tangled into his hair to force his head back down to the desk.  
“Not a word, or else I’ll leave right now,” you hissed. You had never seen Rolan behave so easily, relaxing back against the wood as he waited for you to make the next move.  
Another muted spell left your lips, the room slightly tinged with the crackle of your magic. The summoned object was heavier than you anticipated, but oh did that make it even more exciting. Commanding Rolan to keep his head down, you stepped into the harness of the conjured strap-on and pulled it up to fasten around your groin snuggly. You spilled the rest of the oil bottle over the thick base of the strap and spread it around with a loose fist.  
Rolan wiggled with impatience, still obeying your orders to keep down and not look. So, without further delay, you notched the tip against him then slid the length over his entrance. His body tensed with understanding as he rocked against you ardently, his tail wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.  
You teased his rim with the head of your strap, providing just enough pressure to have him writhing for more but not enough to actually enter him. He groaned in frustration as he tried desperately to force himself back to satisfy his need for more.  
“Oh? Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you Master Rolan?” His moan was high and keen – more pathetic than you had ever heard him before. It was music to your ears. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” The tip of your strap pushed into him ever so slightly more, enough to spread his entrance in preparation. Dangerously close to where he wanted you most but still so very far away.  
“Mmf- ye- ah- yes!” It seemed forming words was proving to be especially difficult for the erudite wizard. Perfect. 
And then you gave in; your hands gripped his hips as you slid the thick length of the strap into him slowly. Rolan’s head hung low, forehead pressed to the cool wood of the desk. He sighed in relief, finally feeling the fullness he craved.  
With an iron grip, you held his hips still, slowly pulling out of him. Then, without warning, you thrusted forward to sheath the strap’s entire length inside him with perhaps maybe a touch too much vigor. Rolan jolted forward by the force of it, gasping as he adjusted. You repeated the movement again. And again. And again.  
Soon, you had set a punishing pace, clothed hips smacking the back of his bare thighs as you drove as deep as he could take you. Every thrust had Rolan whimpering, words dying on his tongue before they were fully formed. It didn’t take long to find that perfect spot that had him stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle his shouts. Oh you liked that spot. 
You weren’t gentle, overcome by an intense need to fuck him until every bratty thought was emptied from his mind through his cock. You raised your hand to roughly slap his ass where your handprint had formed from before. Rolan cried out as the pleasure of you inside him mixed with the pain from your hand.  
“I’m- ah. So-” Every syllable was cut off by a garbled sound as though he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to scream or laugh or cry. The only thing he seemed to know was that he wanted more. “Fu- yes there right there-” 
You stopped with the strap buried completely inside him. Rolan nearly screamed, the sudden lack of motion bringing tears to his eyes. He craned his neck to look at you; he was absolutely furious. You leaned over so that you could press your lips to his ear.  
“Now. Did you want to say something about how you spoke to me earlier?” Your hips caged his, keeping him from seeking his own pleasure.  
“Fuck y-” You began to pull out. “No no no, sorry- I'm sorry, I apologize. Whatever you want to hear I’ll say it.” 
While you weren’t exactly pleased that he had the mental wherewithal to form a complete sentence, you certainly preened at his desperation. “Is that it?” You pulled out even further.  
“Fuck! I was a stupid fucking brat, I’m sorry! Okay? Is that what you wanted? Will you please just-”  
He didn’t get the chance to finish as you thrusted forward as quickly as possible, immediately establishing a pace faster than before. Rolan’s legs shook as though they were ready to give out and you thought for a moment they might if not for the desk under him.  
It only took a couple deep thrusts against his most sensitive spot before he came. His orgasm was a rough avalanche of pleasure; his hips ground against the wood beneath him as his whole body seemed to tremble at the almost violent intensity of his release. You couldn’t quite understand what he was saying – or more like chanting – repeating the garbled word over and over again like he was trying to memorize the sound.  
You realized with pride that it was your name, almost unrecognizable through the fist he still bit down on.  
Your hand ghosted over the red mark on his ass – your own apology for perhaps being too rough. The conjured strap on disappeared as soon as you removed it from him, leaving behind the faint feeling of the Weave. 
Hushed sounds from the shop below you started to filter into the room, and you realized that somewhere along the way Rolan had cast a modified form of silence. The cheeky bastard. You’d definitely remember that for next time.  
It took him longer than he would ever admit to finally stand up, legs still unsteady and wobbly. Both the desk and his stomach were painted white with cum, and you had to admit, it was quite the sight. You brought a finger dangerously close to where his cock stood, still softening, and whisked a drop of his spend from his skin. Rolan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as you took the finger into your mouth to taste him.  
His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “You truly are a degenerate.” Despite his words, he was smiling.  
“And here I thought you were done being a brat?” 
“Well, maybe perhaps your little lesson didn’t have the intended effect, hm?” 
You eyed the mess on his desk with a smug smile. “Oh, I think it worked out just as intended.” 
240 notes · View notes
ravencincaide · 4 months
Text
You pitiful little thing
Summary: Feeling a little lonely, Chuuya gave into the temptation of saving a stray puppy hiding in a cardboard box. Unfortunately for him, the thing he thought was a puppy, was something much less innocent. OR the time a mere mortal mistook a great kitsune for an abandoned stray. 
Pairing: Kitsune!reader x Chuuya Nakahara
Inspired by sweetober prompt 13: Playing with hair 
Author note: Kitsune in Japanese mythology refers to spirits which can shape shift between human and other forms. The older they get the more powerful they become. While some legends portray them as tricksters others describe them as loyal friends, guardians and lovers. You can read up more about them in this article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune 
Also I'd like to thank @soleelia for being a ball plank and someone I could rant to about this idea and finally get inspiration to finish it! Thanks Lia <3
Warnings: Cursing, drinking, smoking stress, finding a stray in a box, Fluffy with a bit of hurt-comfort. 
Enjoy ~
_____________________________________________________________
“ Ehh what kind of sick bastard would throw out a puppy?” 
You opened a tired eye as the lid of the feeble cardboard box that served as your temporary shelter was pulled open, exposing you to the icy rain and chilly wind. Then your eyes snapped wide open as you realized you were not alone. Above you was a man: ginger hair with mesmerizing blue eyes partially hidden by the shade of his top hat. A forgotten, lit cigarette hung from his lips as he crouched down in front of the box, gloved hands keeping the lid open. He was looking at you closely, with a partially confused and partially surprised expression on his face. 
 You crouched down lower in the box, ears flattened against your head. You tried -but failed to shift. Your body was still too weak to take on your real form, leaving you in the pitiful shape of a snow white fox cub. Fuck. Bearing your teeth, a growl tore through your throat as you inched backwards until you pressed yourself into the corner furthest away from him.  You made yourself as menacing and unwelcoming as possible: Go away human you tried to convey Stay out of matters that do not concern you. 
“Hey no need to get pissy with me” the orange haired man muttered as he reached up and took the cigarette between two fingers, taking a deep drag, before he flickered the half finished smoke into a nearby puddle. Then he reached a hand towards you clearly intending to pick you up and out of the soggy box. Instantly you launched forward, sinking your teeth into the leather of his glove. He yelped and pulled his hand back, raising your small body off the floor of the box in the process. You sunk your teeth deeper- half in fear, half in anger at his insolence making him yell louder. With a rough shake he finally got your teeth off his glove, making your body drop back into the base of the box. You let out a low yelp, your injuries, especially your front paw reminding themselves of their existence. Not wanting to appear weak you crouched down again in a defense position. 
“ Ouch what the fuck?!” he yelled down at you, shaking his wounded hand back and forth in a feeble attempt to shake off the pain. “ Fine, suit yourself!” the ginger snapped and slammed the lid of the box back over you covering you once again in darkness. “ You wanna be a brat then be a brat goddamn it!” you heard him growl. 
 A few moments later you felt the box shift and lift, making you flatten yourself against the fragile soaked base. And no amount of growling or hissing seemed to deter him from taking you away or setting your temporary shelter back down onto the ground. Around half an hour later the box finally stopped shifting about and throwing your small body against all four sides. You were royally pissed. Forget about being out of mana and in a fragile injured  body, you were going to rip his throat out with your– 
You were in a man's apartment. 
You could tell from the overly dark expensive design of the room where practicality and price won out over a more homey and warm feeling. The expensive black couch, heated floors and heavy oak bookshelves all reinforced that impression. And it smelled to match; leather, cigarettes and musky cologne. In fact the place looked like something out of a dark romance novel than something anyone would actually live in. 
“ Soooo” the ginger haired man started shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, holding the lid of the box in his hands “ Welcome to Chuuya’s hideout– like it?” 
You flickered your eyes up to him, resisting the temptation of rolling them as he called his apartment ‘Chuuya’s hideout’. At least you now knew his name. Chuuya– it kind of suited him.
Slowly you took one step and then another one away from the box. You began to carefully look around. Then tilted your head up and sniffed the air; you could tell he lived alone. There were other scents in the apartment but they were weak- mere reminisce of earlier visits and old gifts stuffed in closets or hidden behind locked doors. None of these scents were familiar to you. Unsurprising. Still, what a strange man he was, having a fully stocked wine fridge in what you assumed was the living room and yet not a single picture frame anywhere. 
Strange indeed.  
You took more steps around the place, noting that there were more doors that lead further into the apartment. All of them closed; clearly he didn’t want you to go exploring too far on your own. Very well then. Your eyes landed back on the couch which was now right beside you and you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. Your paw thumbed, reminding itself of its existence. Still you rested your weight onto it through gritted teeth before jumping up. 
“ Nonono No– not the italian leather” you heard him sigh as you curled up in a ball, draping your long fluffy tail over your body, and burying your face in it. Then you closed your eyes, giving yourself an innocent appearance. But he better not be fooled- you were one hundred percent on high alert, your ears listening intensely for any movement or action he would take. Said ears twitched as your head him groan again to himself.
 “ Don’t make holes in it” Chuuya stated half angry, half pleading “ Or– Or– I’ll shave you!” he threatened. You opened an eye and stared at him. The action made him huff slightly. “ I really will!” 
He wouldn’t. You could tell. 
Growling under his breath Chuuya tossed the soaked lid back into the cardboard box he brought you in before kicking it in the direction of the front door. The box flew a surprising distance and landed right by the entrance. Then you heard him go to the kitchen; the sound of washed hands and opening and closing of cupboards and the fridge echoed in the otherwise silent apartment. 
You closed your eyes, salvaging whatever rest you could get in this warm place; a place that was significantly more comfortable than the cold outside or any of the other shelters you had sought out in the past weeks. In fact you were close to dozing off when you heard him re-enter the living room. You pretended to be asleep, listening to whatever he would do. Acting defenseless was a good way to judge character- if he meant you any harm or knew what you were- surely he would act while you were asleep. 
Instead of danger and threats that were so familiar to you, you were met with surprising softness that almost didn’t suit his character.  
Chuuya placed a rug down on the opposite side of the room, as far as he could away from the leather couch. “ Here” he said “That’s where you’ll be sleeping until this goddamn tsunami passes and I can get you a proper bed that’s your own.” It seems he knew you were not asleep- or maybe he was speaking aloud out of habit? 
You couldn’t tell. But your interest peaked when you heard him leave the room and then come back a moment later. You heard him set down a glass dish, your nose filled with the sweet scent of meat and cheese. High grade cuts- not the scraps you’d normally feed a stray. 
Interesting. 
Suddenly you heard his phone ring. Chuuya cursed, then sighed, clearly not wanting to answer it. He let the song play for a long while, at first making it seem he would ignore the call. Then before the last tune finally played he answered, bringing the device to his face. He sounded cold as he answered, annoyed even. And his body language reflected that. Almost instantly Chuuya reached for a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, popped the bottle open and poured himself a glass. He twirled the alcohol in his hand  while he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying to him. Then he started pacing, muttering curses and insults while waving the glass of wine carelessly in his hand. 
Opening your eyes, you watched him carefully for a few moments. The frustration and stress which radiated from his body, sadness and aggravation. He downed the first glass of wine before pouring himself another. After the third glass he stopped pacing and just stood in the corner of the room. Silent now, but sadder. Definitely caught up in the complicated mix of memories, work and emotion. 
You paid him little attention. Jumping down from the couch, you were careful to put as little weight onto your injured paw as possible before you slowly trott over to the plate of food he set down for you. The cuts of cheese and meat were, as you first guessed, of high quality. The kind that was used for festive dinners instead of petfood. This would do, you concluded, as you slowly began to eat. The second you moved away from the couch Chuuya moved and sat down onto it, opening his second bottle of wine. This time he did not bother with a glass, and drank directly from the bottle. 
The phone call lasted another half an hour or so. But even as it ended Chuuya didn’t stop drinking. If anything he cursed loudly under his breath, and doused his emotion in the alcohol. By the end of the second bottle he was a mess, by the start of fourth he was no longer sitting up. Swaying in and out of consciousness. 
You couldn’t understand why a human would get so shit-faced drunk that he would end up sprawled out on his own couch, shivering and snoring- torturing himself with nightmares of his own making. For a long moment you sat and watched Chuuya from a distance. The way he’d mutter things- names- in his sleep. Then tighten his arms around himself in a lonely hug. 
Comfort? Longing?
Humans are pitiful creatures you mused but perhaps–you cut your trial of thought off and slowly inched closer. Over the rug, past the bottles of wine and between the legs of the couch-side glass table, Then you jumped up onto the couch flinching as steadied yourself on your injured paw. You waited until the pain subsided until you began walking: skillfully inching the lengths of the fine leather. Before finally jumping down onto the space beside him. You hesitated only for a moment before you stepped onto him; feeling his muscles easily support your cub-weight. 
You could tell he was awake- holding hisbreath. 
You inched upwards until you found his stomach- perhaps the softest part of bone and muscle that made up this man. Before curling yourself up into a ball, making a semi-comfortable sleeping spot. You closed your eyes, remaining calm even as he raised his hand and trailed his fingers through your fur; strand by strand, studying its fluffy texture. Then he applied more pressure, trailing the lengths of your body with his entire hand. It wasn’t long until that hand buried itself in your fur, pulling you closer to himself. You shivered under his touch and subconsciously wrapped your fluffy tail around his wrist keeping his hand close.
“ Ahh Sweetheart, you’re such a good puppy,” Chuuya whispered in a thick voice, somewhere between sleepy, drunk and teary. You replied with a low threatening growl. How dare this mortal compare you to something as insignificantly small as a mere puppy. 
“ Okay okay not a puppy” Chuuya chuckled, continuing to pet your fur “ But a good girl nonetheless.” 
287 notes · View notes
alexa-fika · 4 months
Note
okay hold up I just a.. unique idea
Im rewatching OP and im at sabody arc, n Laffy jist knocked the shit outta the noble
Idk who to ask this for but id love to see how'd you'd write a character reacticing to a noble trynna BUY child reader..
Or perhaps how mihawk would react with them trynna buy winged!child!reader?? IDK IT JIST SPROUTED
Do with as you will👹
Embracing Feelings and Family (Rayleigh x gn!winged!child!reader)
A/N: Not sure how to feel about this one., I think is really mid, maybe it’s just because of the dark nature of the piece itself but idk. I think this goes without saying based on the request but beware of the dark undertones of this piece as it portrays human slavery and auctioning. I couldn’t come up with something for mihawk so I went with our favorite grandpa
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Up next, we have ourselves a true rarity! This one will blow your minds; we have a winged child! You can fly it around as you want or even have them carry you around the skies! They can even deliver you special things in a fraction of a time!” The announcer enthusiastically explained
“Let us start the bid at 10 Million Berry! Who offers 10 Million Berry?!”
“Let me go, you Jerks! Im not an item!” The child growls, banging on the cage’s bars
Charlos awes childishly before throwing out the first bid
“It’s a big Bird! It’s a Big Bird! 50 million Berry!” He yelled out joyfully before waving happily to the child in the cage
“Grandpa will get you all! Grandpa will save me, you gross creeps!”
The bidders ignore the child’s threats, continuing to bid
“60 million!” A man in the back screams
“80 million!” Another man hollers back
“I’ll do 800 million!” Charlos shouts back while waving his arms frantically in the air excitedly
“D-Does somebody bid any higher?”
“800 million….” “Awe, man, I was excited to have it too!” The crowd mutters
“Going in 3!
Going in 2!
Going in 1!
Sold!
The winged child goes to Saint Charlos for 800 million berry!”
Reader screams as they open the door to their cage and begin pulling on the chains, trying to pull them out and take him toward Charlos.
“Don’t touch me!” They sneered, throwing a kick toward the handler that was closest to them
The handler dodges out of the way and gives them a look.
“Rude little one, don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” The handler growls
“You have just been bought for a very generous amount of money for no one less than a Saint himself! A nobody like you should be Grateful!” They turn towards The Saint and bow
“A-Apologies for its insolence Saint Charlos; if I may, I’ll gladly teach it some manners for you; no need to trouble someone of your status to teach slaves some tricks.”
Charlos groans, sticking his finger in his nose.
“Could you hurry it up? I want to fly it!”
“Yes, Yes, of course; im sure you must be extremely busy, Saint Charlos. I promise not to take more time than is needed!” they assure him, turning around towards the child
“Now come here, you stupid brat,” they growl, raising a baton towards them.
“You will learn to listen!" the exclaim, bringing the baton down, but instead of receiving a blow, the man before them falls to the ground, knocked unconscious.
Reader sighs with relief when the man falls to the ground, the people in the auctioning house following the familiar pattern they have come to expect from their grandpa’s powerful Haki
“Grandpa!” They say, trying to flutter their way to Rayleigh but are cut short due to the chains binding them, causing them to plummet to the ground
“Ow”
“Geez, Reader.”
Rayleigh sighs calmly as he wrenches the chains from them easily, not paying any mind to the explosions that followed once they were removed.
“You seem to be able to get yourself in all kinds of trouble,” He says calmly as he sets the child back down
“Haven’t I told you not to get near this place and much less showing off those wings of yours?”
“What was it this time?” He asks as he looks them over for injuries
“I tried to fly higher…but a wind current caught me, and I couldn’t get myself out from it; it dragged me here, and they brought me here.”
“A wind current?” Rayleigh asks curiously
“One strong enough to drag even you, that’s pretty surprising, to say the least,” He says as he continues to look them over
“Are you alright? Have you sustained any injuries?”
“Im okay.”
“Alright, good to know,” He says as he scoops them up and leaves the wretched place.
“That must have been scary, huh? Im sorry it took me so long to get there; my body doesn’t move the way I want to anymore.”
“I wasn’t scared,” they mutter
“It’s okay, you know.”
“What?”
“To be scared for one’s life from time to time it’s not something one should be ashamed to admit; it doesn’t make us any less brave; you have the right to be scared, just as much as you have the right to be brave.”
“Your feelings are real; you shouldn’t deny them,” He says as he continues to carry them
They stare at him as their eyes begin to water
He smiles gently
“Just let it out, Reader; no one will think less of you for being scared.”
They hug him tighter, diving their head in his shirt as sobs start escaping them
“T-They kept calling me ‘it,’ they kept saying how they would fly me around like I was a kite,” they sob
He ran his fingers through their hair while he let them continue to cry, hugging them back tightly as he did.
He couldn’t help the anger he felt rising when thinking about what had happened inside the auction house
He rubs their back gently as he continues to walk
“Nothing that they told you in it is true; Reader, do not listen to their words; you are invaluable and your own person, not someone to be owned,” He says
“I -I know b-but the way they said it, they meant it, Grandpa; I was nothing but an item for them to use in their eyes.”
He pulls them a bit more tightly as he did
"I know, some people are like that, wretched beings who enjoy stepping in other people and causing them misery simply because they can."
“You are someone special to me; always remember that; you are the biggest treasure for me and your grandmother,” He says gently as they rub their back
"Now what do you say we go back to the shack and ask Grandma to make you your favorite drink?" they offer, chuckling when they feel the child nooding
"Can we add extra chocolate to it?"
"Anything you want, Reader," he smiles, knowing that it would take a long time and effort to build their confidence and sense of security back to where it was after everything that had happened, but they would get there together.
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Ya’ll I have summoned my choice wheels to do some platonic!reader x character, not child reader, normal age reader but still platonic 👀 Had to fight to find some good roulettes.
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