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fqntasies · 28 days

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The First Kiss - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You are visiting Giedi Prime once again. As you've grown older, the pull you feel around the na-baron is stronger, deeper, even if you've never spoken on it. Does he dream of you too? Will you be able to speak of them to him, or will such dreams remain as such forever? We he be able to resist you?

disclaimer: this is a kind of follow up fic to my last feyd x reader. However, this takes place before that time frame. Read the first one here to get a better understanding of how i'm approaching my feyd stories.

words: 1,111

This was the fifth time your family's entourage had visited Giedi Prime; your betrothed's home planet. Each stay got a little more familiar. Perhaps it was the smell of the air. The caress of the blinding black sun above; brilliant and strange; a blot in the heavens. You felt enraptured in it somehow. Like a feeling you could not shake, though in part you blamed the dreams.

You had yet to speak of them with him.

Had he dreamt too? Surely, the na-baron had. You thought often that he must, if not only for the way his eyes seemed to linger on you when you shared a space, no matter how many resided in it. You felt wholly consumed by it. There was a heaviness in his actions, weighted by their directness; when his gaze would meet yours, your pulse would quicken, breaths catch in your chest.

Sometimes, even in silence, in those spaces you shared among the others of your families, you found him lingering close. Felt the heat of him at your back. The hand at his side ever so close to caressing the edge of your hip. He was possessive. Protective.

You two had shared such few words, yet you knew this about him already. Nor could you deny the way it made you feel. A magnetism. Something at the edge that was just out of reach. For now.

"My lady." You startle at the closeness of his words, earrings brushing the curve of your neck as you whip swiftly to look up at Feyd.

You had been thinking of him; lost in your own thoughts. He seemed to read it in your gaze, dark eyes flitting between yours, shadows blanketing the angles of his face. There is a palpable silence as his gaze lowers to your lips. That heat you'd come to know with him. Your mouth waters at the ghost of his kisses in your mind. A seemingly distant future in visions of your marriage.

You vaguely catch the Baron's smug rasp to your father something about spice production, but they have trailed out of the room before you catch the full statement; leading a train of servants in their wake, and the hissing of levitation technology.

When you speak it is but a breathy sound.

"My lord na-baron."

"-Feyd." He quips. low and sudden.

You swallow thickly, a flush beneath your cheeks as you meet his eyes. His given name. You hadn't used it yet, save your own thoughts, and whispers to yourself at night in the safety of your room. It seemed a sacred thing. Something intimate. Something of your yet-to-be-husband's.

The na-baron watches you intently; his body imperceptibly closer, as though seeking to envelope you in his shadow. Predator and prey. You decide to broach the subject. The feeling between you...you must know if it is something of your own mind.

"Feyd Rautha". For some reason the use of his full name from your lips makes him smile. A bizarre sight, being so rare - and this grin looked almost amused. Like he had not been expecting the addendum, humorous. You are quick to try and follow up with your request, cheeks hot.

"I must ask something rather delicate, pertaining to our betrothal."

At that he seems to sober a bit, obviously unsure about whatever it was you were to follow with.

"Do you..." You wish you could know a thing beyond just your own feelings. The twisting of your stomach at the thought he could reject you tearing your insides.

"...Do you dream?"

For a moment, there is that heavy silence again, but then you see the slow curl of his lips, just at the edges. Oh, he seems to say. Followed by a soft and knowing hum.

"Is that what this is about?"

He is coming closer now, stalking you in a few calculated steps with that same smile. Your chest heaves with your breaths as you make way backwards, but then he has an arm about your waist, and mentally you are aware of the heat of him, and the strength. You feel like you've lost some game, or been suddenly caught cheating.

That's when you taste him. His mouth has tilted upon yours, slotted against you like you were meant to be there and you moan softly. Surprised that this moment has come at all - yet wanton for it too. How many nights had you dreamed of him holding you like this? Wondering what it might be like for him to lean in and kiss you?

Feyd swallows your sigh greedily. Readily. The arm he has around you pulls you into him further, and you are pleasantly surprised by how soft his lips are, and how good he tastes. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip.

You angle your head opening for him further, learning as you go. He was so quietly calculated, and yet he kissed you like a man starved, uncaring of who saw or who tried to stop him. Not that any being could. You would bet everything that the na-baron would slice any fool willing to try, to shreds. You'd seen his bloodlust, and his prowess in the arena. Such a feat might even excite him, with you as his prize.

He seemed eager to hold back his need for air - kissing as deeply as he could. Slow. Then fast. As though his control would slip and he has to taste more of you. More. More. His tongue sought yours in a dance, followed by teeth tugging at your lips. You mewled softly at that, eyes so heavy. You felt almost drugged, and after a moment too long, you both parted, breaths breaking the silence.

His hands are at your hips now, holding you steady, but your faces were still just a fraction apart. You felt proud of the way Feyd's eyes looked heavy lidded, or how his lips were tinged pink. It drew your eyes in a way that had him groaning.

"Careful, princess..." The nickname has your cheeks heating again, even after being kissed senseless, and he chuckles low in his chest. The smells of spice and some kind of foreign cologne fill your senses as he nears again, this time bringing his mouth towards your ear. You close your eyes, barely able to keep them open as you angle your head slightly to the side.

"-Or I might have to make more of my dreams a reality."

The admittance, and the low tone of his voice so close has you turning your face and opening for him once more, your breaths colliding as he is quick to seek your tongue with his own.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #x reader #fanfic #reader insert #reader #fanfiction #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction #feyd x you #i love the bald man alright #like dang why they make him so kissable though #okay dawg yeah i wanna make out gosh

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 4 months

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can you make a fic about yan!fboyjk and yan!cheaterjk for me? i don’t have a specific plot in my mind so you can do anything to your liking :))

Pairing | cheater!fboy!yan!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 4.242

Warnings | +18, talk about marriage and cheating, smut, dubcon, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), Jungkook is sweet but also scary, angst, forced relationship, manipulation

Yandere genre is very strong, if you don't like it, don't read. If you are not of age, don't read. I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You want to leave Jungkook, but he is not of the same opinion, It doesn't matter if he did wrong, you are his.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Thank you for the request! I hope you like the story, please ask me for more stories, I am happy to write for you 🥰

You and Jungkook have been always sure about your future, you would get married and live happily ever after like in the most beautiful fairy tale. So why are you crying? Why do you refuse to take your eyes off that scene? Your brain refuses to recognize those angelic features that had caught you in a dense network of colorful, sparkling dreams as a child. That cannot be the same man who swore to you in front of all your relatives eternal love, with a ring in his hand and a wonderful, sweet smile drawn on his lips. Yet who can it be but Jungkook, the man who at that moment holds in his arms a woman unknown to you? You went to the gym to surprise your boyfriend, he had been disappearing for hours for some time under the guise of training for the wedding, he wanted to keep in shape to be perfect for you… just for you. But there he is, at the entrance of the gym whispering something in the ear of the blond-haired woman, who in return smiles cheekily at his joke, running a hand over his strong, trained chest. They seem very close, there is definitely confidence between them. You finally look away, feeling incredibly wrong, and take a step back, then another and another.

You start running in the opposite direction, all to forget that scene, to forget Jungkook's smug eyes staring at a woman who is not you. When you get home you feel incredibly weak, you sit almost collapsing on the bed, in your brain a bunch of ideas start swirling around in your head, ideas that block your breath in your throat. It's not even the first time it's happened, you realize, it's happened before that you've noticed something strange in your relationship, but you've never given it any credence. You don't want to think anymore. Forget, forget, forget.

"Smells good, love," the man leaves a sweet kiss on your neck, pressing his soft lips to caress your skin, "Is my girl getting ready to spoil me yet?" Jungkook holds you tightly in his arms, practically purring against your body. You find yourself smiling between his cuddles, continuing to stir the meat stew simmering in the pot. "You're just saying that because you're hungry," you chuckle gently. You found yourself shaking like a leaf in anxiety for days, believing that sooner or later Jungkook would come to you to tell you that he was leaving you for another woman, but none of that happened, Jungkook is still the same, showering you with attention and adoring you, and still wanting to marry you. Perhaps you had misunderstood the situation, that blond woman must be a friend and you jumped to conclusions, you should have asked Jungkook for explanations, but you still feel something holding you back from doing so. It is fear, a deep and treacherous fear.

"I say this because you are too good to me," he whispers seriously, causing you to turn toward him. His serious eyes chain yours and you feel lost, watching the wonder of that glittering obsidian staring at you encompassing you with possession, Jungkook licks his lips, the rosy soft tip furrowing those inviting petals before he moves closer to you, the electricity between your bodies bursting into lightning bolts as your lips meet, softly joining in an adoring kiss full of dominance. Somehow Jungkook manages to turn off the stove behind you, grabbing your head in a grip that forces you to deepen the kiss under the pressure of his hot tongue pressing repeatedly on your lips to demand access to your mouth. In each touch of Jungkook you lose yourself, accepting the force with which he takes your lips moaning and grabbing a few wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His tongue entwines with yours creating a wet and sensual dance, feeling him slow and hot inside your mouth turns you on in an incredible way. His taste is dope and Jungkook thinks the same of yours, sucking your tongue like delicious candy and smiling. It is always like that, if he wants something, he takes it. And you at that moment happily offer him your body, your feelings and your soul. They are all his.

He grips your hips in his hands, pressing you against his hot body, he needs you and with trembling legs you leave him in charge, he takes you to the couch where he makes you lie down leaving behind a trail of light, soft kisses along your jaw and neck, he stares at you now with half-closed eyes, the man finds himself thinking that you probably don't know how much you are actually giving him. With your clothes now on the floor and your panties lowered to your knees you let your head fall back, clenching your lower lip between your teeth, gentle waves of pleasure envelop your body, Jungkook with one hand travels up your belly to stop at your breasts, which he squeezes possessively as he wraps his tongue around your swollen clitoris, licking and sucking it repeatedly before poking your soggy slit with his fingertips, entering it only slightly, just enough to let your sweet essence out and lick it away with his tongue and enjoy the taste of you that has always driven him wild. You're getting closer and closer to your first orgasm, and you know it won't be the only one; you squeeze his head between your soft, smooth thighs, but he forces you to stay still by pushing his palms on your delicate skin, continuing to eat away at your quivering folds until a wonderful, satisfying sensation grips your belly and explodes into millions of tiny stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Jungkook! S-stop!" you shake your hips trying to make him stop and he stops only after sucking your sensitive pearl against his palate one last time. Kissing your folds and moving up your skin he stops at your belly, licking slowly down to your navel and you shudder still shaken from your orgasm, he only begins to remove his pants and boxers once he reaches your breasts, where he breathes in the scent of your soft skin and takes a delicate nipple in his mouth, attaching it and beginning to caress it with the tip of his tongue, sending delicious shivers throughout your body. "Open those beautiful legs for me, sweetheart," he gives you two light pats on the knee and makes you spread your legs wide, satiating his hungry, smug eyes. He loves the power you let him wield over you. You lick your lips at the sight of his straining, cum-shiny cock, wanting to taste it, to feel that length filling your mouth and leaving you breathless, but Jungkook pushes you back against the couch firmly, shaking his head amusedly. "Later, love," he murmurs finally taking off the tight t-shirt he is wearing, you find yourself gazing at his defined and gorgeous abs with the driest of throats, he doesn't let you touch him to your disappointment, you want to caress his chest, play with his sensitive nipples, but with a firm, hard kiss he guides himself between your legs, sinuously sliding into your wet entrance with his thick, hard cock, you widen your eyes and a deep moan leaves your throat. Your sensitive folds vibrate delightedly with each of his slow, firm lunges, your arms wrap around his neck and your hips move with his, in the room you can only hear the sounds of your bodies coming together and your wheezing moans, Jungkook grunts in your ear something after a particularly hard thrust and your eyes narrow, the thick tip of his cock is hitting a particularly sensitive spot that makes more moisture gush from your pussy.

"Jungkook, I'm coming again," you whimper softly inhaling his scent, the man nods as he continues to press into that sensitive area, and you move his hair behind his ear before leaving a kiss on one side of his neck. Then something makes you miss a beat. You hadn't noticed it before because it was hidden by his rather long hair, but just below his ear is a mark. It looks like a mark- a hickey -the color is tending toward purple and your heartstrings tug painfully.

You drive your nails into his shoulders with frost enveloping your limbs, you don't want to look any further, tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes and Jungkook blames your oncoming climax, he kisses them drying them with his lips and that gesture makes you scream internally, why is he so sweet and attentive? It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. With his free hand he reaches down between your bodies beginning to circle with his thumb around your clit, his pelvis moves faster, he is coming, soon he would fill you with his cum and for the first time ever you find yourself faking an orgasm with Jungkook, your delicate walls tighten around his cock, accompanying him to the end of his pleasure, but you feel nothing more. Jungkook collapses on top of you, kissing your forehead and cheeks, then finishing with your lips, but your heart is shattered. The man you love does not actually love you. "I love you, Y/N," he says, a lie you are no longer willing to believe.

There was always something wrong with the attention Jungkook was getting at school, you often attended the same classes and you always got the evil eyes of the other girls on you, you had even tried to ask the boy why, but he had always explained that they were simply jealous of your relationship and you were not supposed to pay attention to them. And you had believed him, after all, you always believed him. But now you regret giving him all that power.

"Jungkook, do you have another woman?" Your wedding is only a month away, and you can't marry a man who doesn't love you. Jungkook from his side almost chokes on his energy drink, he stares at you as if you had two heads instead of one, you are in the parking lot of his gym, you went to pick him up and you can tell he had recently showered, the ends of his hair are still damp and curled. "Shit, Y/N! Is that something to tell your future husband? We're getting married in exactly one month, heck no! I don't have another woman!" he blurts out seemingly speechless, you tighten your lips in response. "Hey ... Baby, what's going on?" he whispers softly, trying to take your chin between his fingers, but you quickly flinch away from him, who rolls his eyes in response. "What's going on is this, Jungkook," you growl, suddenly lifting some dark locks from his neck, exposing a small but remarkable detail. There are slight bite marks that are healing, you had noticed it a few days before, but you didn't have the courage to point it out, until now.

You're tired, you don't want to put up with such a situation anymore. "Stop teasing me, I hate it when you're so sweet to me, when it's clear that you're having fun behind my back with who knows how many other women!" you shout with glazed eyes, Jungkook immediately losing the confusion etched on his face, finally letting a serious and icy look shine through. "This is not the place to talk about this, Y/N. Let's go home," he hisses, not even trying to deny it one more time. This shocks you deeply. He doesn't seem to care that you finally know the truth. "I really think this is the right place, instead" you don't want to cry, so you hold back your tears by chasing them back, "You lied to me and betrayed me, I don't want to marry a man like you" the disgust in your voice makes him wince, if he thought he was going to solve things by using some bullshit catchphrases, well, he was very wrong. You make to get out of the car, you would have taken a cab rather than be with him again in that cramped and stifling space, you want to vent your emotions in a more secluded place, but Jungkook tightens a hand around your wrist.

"Don't you want to marry a man like me? My love, you may not realize that you have no other choice! We have always been together and we will always be together! You swore it to me more than once and you even did it in front of our parents!" he exclaims fiercely, tightening his grip painfully, you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. "You're hurting me," you murmur terrified by his sudden change. "Well, maybe you deserve it, don't you think?" he asks cruelly. You know Jungkook particularly cares about his parents' judgment, but you didn't think he would go that far to make them happy, so a worse doubt germinates in you. "You never loved me! You only want to be with me because our parents always wanted it that way" you want to vomit, were you really that blind? Jungkook quickly shakes his head, "Of course I love you, even though you're making me angry with this absurd talk of yours." "You don't love me, if you really loved me you wouldn't cheat on me with other women" you find the strength to break free from his grip, your pulse is red and pumping blood quickly. "I-" he freezes, his eyes dark with fury, "You don't understand, you can't blame me alone for all this!"

Jungkook knows he was wrong; in fact, he wouldn't have even wanted to start. But when you got together you were young and you had insisted on losing your virginity only once you had reached adulthood and thus the necessary maturity, you did not want your first time to be driven only by the pure hormonal instincts of two teenagers, and Jungkook had never had the courage to insist, because you seemed quite convinced about your ideas. But he needed what you were unwilling to give him, and so he cheated on you for the first time in a school bathroom after class, and he had hated himself no matter how many more countless times, but the more he got the more he wanted more, and even when you had finally given yourself to him, cheating had become an impossible vice to let go of, and the idea that you would always be left waiting for him was particularly tempting. But now it no longer seems that way; you want to leave, to leave him, and he cannot allow it. "You drove me crazy with your constant 'We're too young' or 'Let's wait a little longer'!" You open your mouth wide in shock, "No, don't blame me! You never told me you were against my ideas, and anyway, that's no reason to betray a person you say you love."

You have to get out of that car, you can't wait a second longer. The situation is worse than you thought, he has been cheating on you since the beginning of your story, you are nauseated. "You disgust me," you say before you open the door, you turn to get out, but suddenly your vision goes black, you feel Jungkook press his hand against your nose and mouth, before wrapping an arm around your neck.

When you wake up you realize you are no longer in the car, but you are not even in your house. The only thing you remember is Jungkook making you faint, then nothingness. You look around and what you see is a small room, the walls are lilac and it's littered with puppets of all kinds and colors, the mirror in front of the single bed you're lying on makes it clear the way you've been dressed. You're wearing a high school uniform and your hands are tied to the headboard, you widen your eyes and try to free yourself by pulling at the fabric used to hold you like that. "You've woken up." Jungkook makes his appearance from the bathroom connected to the small bedroom, he is adjusting his dark blue tie and you also notice his attire, he is dressed in a school uniform just like you. "What does all this mean, is this a joke?" you hiss less than amused, but Jungkook doesn't flinch. "I've come to a conclusion," he says as he approaches the bed, you try to get as far away from him as possible by bringing your free legs to your chest, you don't recognize the man in front of you, "I don't want to cheat on you, ever again."

He seems sincere, but you don't trust him. He has broken your heart too many times to deserve trust from you again. "I don't believe you, you're a liar," you say in fact, Jungkook tightens his lips. "I have my conditions," he says anyway, ignoring your words, "You'll still marry me and we'll make up for all the moments you made us miss," he murmurs dangerously, sitting down on the bed and letting a hand approach your thigh, you become an ice statue instantly, finally understanding the reason behind your uniforms. "You're crazy, I'm not going to marry you and we're not going to get anything back at all, to be honest I haven't had an orgasm with you in weeks, just the thought of a traitor like you touching me makes me lose the will to fuck," you murmur angrily, jerking away from his hand in a stinging manner. Jungkook narrows his eyes into two slits, he wanted to be nice to you, but you just don't understand. He's going to use forceful manners, then. "Why must you force me to hurt you, my love?" You look at him terrified, what does he mean?

"Jungkook, don't do anything you might regret, please." He grips your face hard in his hands, staring at you with those deep, dark pools you've always loved, pinning you in place before snapping a deep kiss. You stubbornly keep your lips tight, but Jungkook bites your lower lip forcing you to scream, his voluptuous tongue immediately making room in your mouth and groaning in protest as he plunders your oral cavity. "You'll change your mind, Y/N, by hook or by crook," he hums in your ear with a veil of amusement shining through his voice-who the hell is this man? Jungkook studies you carefully before running his hands over your hips, you shudder at his touch and his fingers stop above the buttons of your school blouse. "You will have only my body, Jungkook," you say in a colorless voice, trying to escape from that absurd reality, the boy opens your blouse, showing off the lace of your pink bra, he observes the graceful shape of your breasts longingly before returning his gaze to you. "I will have everything of you: soul, heart, body -- everything," he whispers before leaning over you, inhaling your scent straight from your bare skin.

"Where have you taken me?" "Haven't you figured it out yet?" You frown, then finally understand. It is his room from when he was a child, that means-. "We're at your parents' house." Jungkook nods. "Do you remember what happened in this room, Y/N?" Yes, you remember, but you don't want to say it out loud, that would make what Jungkook wants to do real. "You rejected me," he hisses suddenly, ripping your blouse off once and for all, you squeal in fright at his force and widen your eyes. He looks furious, his hands are shaking and his shoulders have stiffened under the weight of his fury, "I wanted you and you walked away! No matter how many times we did it when you made up your mind, you still rejected me and forced me to beg from other girls!" he exclaims, totally delirious before attaching his lips to the visible skin of your breasts, you wriggle trying to push him away, but he is too strong, Jungkook is not there with you. He is lost in his memories and blaming you for his betrayals.

Bitter tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes, it's not your fault. It's not your fault at all, but maybe... maybe if you had been more attentive to his needs, too, you would have been enough for him? When he grabs your pussy from above the fabric of your panties you arch your back against your will, his strong and powerful presence still has its hold on you and you tremble trying to stop yourself, you don't know if you are more scared or excited. "Jungkook-" "Say you're sorry," you widen your eyes. "What?" you gasp, his index finger going under the fabric and circling your slit. "Say you're sorry for rejecting me so many times, say you're sorry for all the times you made me feel like an ugly, worthless little boy!" You shake your head, "I never-" you groan, his index finger penetrating you and gently moving a few inches above your soaked entrance, you stiffen at the flame that suddenly invades your limbs. How does he still do this to you? After weeks spent in total apathy, it is now lighting you up in more ways than one, why?

Then you remember, " I don't want to cheat on you, ever again," are such simple words enough to get your body to react? Your body is corrupted by Jungkook, vibrating under his forbidden touch and practically purring, more moisture gushes from your slit, which widens to envelop the second finger Jungkook adds to his penetration, you are trembling trying not to push your hips against the boy, but it is harder than you thought. "I don't want you," you murmur, shaking your head, Jungkook looking at you firmly, tickling sensitive spots that only he knows and is able to reach. "Say it again as you come on my fingers, my love." An unsettling feeling of warmth swells in your lower abdomen. You deny it once more with your head, trying to stop your trembling legs, but it is too late, your walls tightening around his long, deft fingers, exploding in an orgasm you have longed for. "Why are you doing this to me?" you cry, moving your arms forcefully; Jungkook stops you, preventing you from hurting yourself with the ribbons that bind you.

"I wanted to make you pay for all the times you said no by making me feel like a poor, inexperienced fool," he says clutching your skirt with fingers smeared with your liquid pleasure, "But things got out of hand," he stammers, a stinger reaches your heart and your stomach sinks. You don't want to think about how many times he has devoted himself to another woman's body, it hurts too much. "You never told me about it," your words come out in a breathy voice, you try to hold back the sobs. Jungkook moves on top of you, "We will be happy, Y/N" he kisses your forehead moving between your legs, you feel him unzip his pants and enter you with one thrust, it is easy to enter you, you are completely wet and close your eyes listening to his rough, lustful sighs. His swollen cock moves penetrating you repeatedly, the bed moves under his precise and direct strokes and you squeeze your eyes shut, your clitoris throbbing and quivering seeking more direct stimulation and a sigh escapes your lips when the man presses his pelvis against your pubis, crushing your sensitive pearl while with the tip of his cock he reaches to stimulate a particularly receptive spot, you watch the strands of his hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead and his eyes begging you not to leave him.

"Y/N!" he moans your name while squinting, "Y/N!" he pushes harder between your soft walls and pulls with his arms on the ropes that keep you tied to the bed. "Jung-" you bite your tongue, refusing to moan his name, but the boy disagrees and demands that you look at him. "I'm sorry, I'll never cheat on you again, I mean it," he whimpers into your ear, "I only love you, only you," he moans and you find yourself closing your eyes, not wanting to give in, not really wanting to, but... "I'm-I'm sorry...for rejecting you" you stammer, pleasure rising once again and the hope of mending your relationship dancing in your chest, "I'm sorry for making you feel unfit." "The others... I just wanted to prove myself" thus confesses his feeling of inadequacy, you know you shouldn't forgive him anyway, but you love him too much, "But now I realize it's only to you that I have to prove something, forgive me" and so you let yourself be corrupted even in your soul. Just a gesture of your head is enough to allow him to come deeply inside you, your breath quickening as you reach for him clutching him in the deepest part of you, throwing your head back. Moments later he unties the knot that binds you to the bed and kisses your wrists softly, murmuring about how perfect you are for him and that once we were married, all would be forgotten because he only wants you. A tear slides down your cheek.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months

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Yandere Tom Riddle Headcanons

Pairing: Yandere Tom Riddle x (female) Hufflepuff Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

You’re a direct descendent from the Hufflepuff bloodline, something that definitely stirs up Tom’s attention. That means you’re the true heir of the Hufflepuff House, just like he is with the Slytherin House.

Even though you’re both the heirs to your own bloodlines plus the fact that you are a pure-blood, he’ll never consider you to be equal to him. You’re undoubtedly superior to the rest of the peasants, but not him.

After all, Hufflepuff is ridiculously kind and mundane, every Hufflepuff is a weak thing in Tom’s eyes. Always disgustingly nice and ready to help others. Truly abhorrent.

But desperate times call for equally desperate measures.

However, he’ll also consider that you’re both equal in a twisted way given that you’re both the last of your kind. Descendants of the noble and pure-blood families that had once created Hogwarts.

Therefore, you must bond yourselves into an unbreakable union. You belong together. Tom has complex and ambitious plans to conquer the Wizarding world and he imagines that with you by his side.

You’re 2 years younger than him, so he tries to get closer to you by pretending to help you with your studying. He’s already studied whatever you’re currently studying, not to mention that he is one of Hogwarts top students, if not the best. He often offers to let you borrow his scrolls of notes.

As a Prefect, he would often give you a free pass whenever you and your stupid friends created some trouble, pretending to be a nice person as he knows how much that’ll mean to you. You do have a sweet spot for kind people, after all.

He developed a rather stalkerish habit of coincidentally appearing wherever you are, his eyes always discreetly following you. And if he’s busy with other duties, then he’ll have the members of his tight circle of friends to keep an eye on you.

He keeps up the facade of being an absolute gentleman and an exemplary student in front of you, often trying to start a conversation with you and treating you better than others, mentioning how you’re far superior from the rest of the students.

However, he’s not able to fully convince you of his “kind” nature. There’s always an implicit hesitance in you whenever you interact with Tom, maybe it’s nothing but you’re always having a bad feeling when you’re around Tom.

Like he’s not being completely truthful towards you, almost as if there’s something wrong with him. You try not to dwell too much on those thoughts, preferring to offer him a hand of friendship for him to prove himself to be a good human being.

As you get older, his behavior also changes. He becomes different, more mature, more committed to his plans.

One day, he reveals to you in great secret that he is the heir of the Slytherin House and of all the plans he has for the future. On how he expects you to join him and take your place by his side.

You can’t decipher whether he’s joking or being delusional, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll have to play along with it, Tom is too dangerous for you to reject him.

But if you prove yourself to be incapable of being loyal to him and his cause, Tom will be forced to make you submit through the Imperio spell.

That way you won’t be able to rebel up against him. You’re meant to be his Dark Lady and you’re no one to stop that from happening.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere tom riddle #dark tom riddle #dark!tom riddle #yandere harry potter #yandere!tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #yandere x reader #yandere voldemort #voldemort x reader #tw: yandere

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exhaslo · 5 months

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Puzzle Pieces Ch16

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, torture, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, praise, shower sex, aftercare

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The sky was cloudy as snow started to fall heavily upon the city. A sudden chill ran up your spine as you tried to cover yourself up in the blanket some more. The heat was on, but you still felt the cold from outside.

Your body felt weak and exhausted from yesterday. While there was the relief of Eddie never bothering you again, just seeing him still brought you down in the dumps. He always made you feel sick to your stomach. At least Miguel was here to ease your worries.

Reaching out to your loving boyfriend, you let out a whimper. You felt congested and dizzy. Snuggling into Miguel, you coughed and closed your eyes again. He felt so warm and comforting. Perfect to go back to sleep too.

"Hn, (Y/N)? You don't sound too well," Miguel muttered as he started to wake up. You coughed again,

"I'm...fine...just need...some more...rest," You whispered tiredly, "Long...day yes...terday..."

Miguel sat up, stroking your head as you started to drift back into a deep slumber. He let out a soft sigh, knowing that this was partly his fault. Miguel was worried that taking you yesterday would push you too far and it did. The stress of it all had gotten you sick. So today was probably not going to be the best for you either.

"Baby, I have to head out, but I promise to be back early and to bring you some medicine, okay?" Miguel whispered as he kissed your head.

"Mhmm," You lazily replied in your sleep.

As Miguel scooted off the bed, he heard your whine and chuckled. You were reaching out for him, how tempting. If Miguel were to get back into the bed, then he might take advantage of your cute sickly body.

As painful as it was, Miguel got ready for another day of work. He would rather stay by your side, but what he was doing today was for you. Calling Lyla, Miguel did make sure that someone would be here for you if you need help.

He wasn't going to let his future wife be lonely.

Once Lyla arrived, Miguel made his way out. His phone was blowing up with messages from Peter, and Miguel knew why. A clear smirk was on his face as Miguel had all of the pieces start to stick together. This was going to be a glorious puzzle once completed.

----------

This was personal. Miguel made sure to keep his guests waiting. Entering the supermarket with Hobie and Ben behind him, Miguel approached the deli. He glanced over at your former Supervisor and just gave a simple nod.

"Attention customers, due to a spill in the cleaning aisle, we must ask that everyone leave the store. Again, please exit the store in a timely fashion. We apologize for any inconvenience." The supervisor spoke over the loud speaker.

Miguel glanced as one of the workers 'accidently' spilled two chemicals that were definitely not supposed to mix. As he entered the third freezer, Miguel just smirked towards the loud yelling and bickering coming from inside.

"This is NOT what we signed up for!!!!" Your mother screamed at the top of her lungs.

"We've been waiting here for hours!! You had my wife sleep on some shitty ass apartment floor! NOT A HOTEL! Where is your boss?!" Your father added.

"Right here," Miguel said calmly as he appeared before the two, "Was there something wrong with your accommodations?"

"Something wrong?! Everything was wrong!! Your lackey-"

"Ow," Peter whispered childishly.

"Told us that we were going to be treated like royalty! Given a five star hotel for the night and all inclusive dinner and breakfast! We received non of that! He threw us in a disgusting apartment building and we had to sleep on the floor!!! Are you going to compensate for our back pain?!" You father screamed. Your mother huffed and pitched in,

"We were given no dinner! No breakfast! Then you have us wait in this accursed place!"

"Oh? So if the apartment was not fitting for you, then why was it good enough for your daughter?" Miguel questioned before snapping his fingers, "As for food, I did bring you something."

"Pfft, daughter? What do you know about (Y/N)?" Your father asked with a scoff and saw a table being brought out.

"What I know, is that I plan to make your daughter my wife-"

"Haha! She's already engaged. You may have bought our supermarket, but what do you have to offer for our daughter's hand in marriage despite shitty service?" Your mother huffed and sat down in the seats that were given to them, "Besides, she will be marrying a fine young man soon. It's too late."

Miguel felt his smirk disappear as his anger started to show. Your parents were truly evil. It was for the best that you weren't here. You may have stood up to Eddie, but parents were another thing. Hell, not even Miguel could really stand up to his own mother.

"Do you mean Eddie?" Miguel asked as Hobie set two covered plates in front of your parents. Your father seemed to have beamed at the name,

"You know of him? Good!"

"Yes, I know of him. He's made quite a name for himself here in the city, but enough about that for now. You two must be starving. Enjoy your meal."

Miguel's smile returned as he watched your parents uncover their dishes and nearly cheered at the sight. Miguel was calm as he watched your parents stuff their faces while his men had to resist their laughter.

"At least the food is up to par with our standards. I've never tasted something so delicious! What is the main meat for this dish?" Your father asked. Miguel chuckled darkly,

"For you, I believe that would be Eddie's balls...for your wife, his dick."

Within the second, both started to cough and spit their food out. The two looked at their plate in horror. Miguel leaned back in his seat,

"As I mentioned, Eddie did make quite a name for himself here. So much so that I had to put a stop to him. To think that you would let such a horrible influence get near your daughter in the first place, disgusts me." Miguel slammed his fist against the table, "The pain that you two brought her. The pain that you ignored? The two of you are insects to me."

"You can make as many threats as you want-"

"Threats?" Miguel chuckled once more as Jessica dropped some pictures, "As you can see, Eddie is just barely breathing. I made sure he suffered just as much as (Y/N) and some. Do you really think I brought you two here for small talk?"

"W-Who-" You mother nearly froze in fear as she started to understand the situation they were in, "W-What do you want from us?"

"What I want is to have you skinned and killed, but (Y/N) will cry if I do such a thing to her parents. She resents you, but still cares. Isn't that nice? Your daughter still has a heart for demons like yourself, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have to know about this."

"As if we won't tell-"

"Tell her what?" Miguel pushed your father down and pressed a gun to his head, "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me right now to not pull this trigger?"

"Please! Please don't kill him!" Your mother cried, "We'll do anything! Please!"

"Finish your meal. I want to see that plate spotless." Miguel waited until the two of them started to eat again, "Don't puke. You still have plenty more meals after this. Can't let anyone find Eddie's body now, can we?"

Miguel slowly returned to his seat, watching your parents cry as they forced themselves to eat. Now, Miguel had never done anything this cruel before and of course, he wasn't actually planning on feeding Eddie to your parents.

Just his junk.

But the fear in their eyes was enough for now. Eddie's use was finally done, so Miguel could finish him off and dump his body in the river. Once the plates were clean, Miguel slid a document over to your parents.

"Read and sign. You will never contact (Y/N) again. She will make that decision on her own. You will nullify the marriage for I will be taking (Y/N) as my wife. If you mention anything about this, then you'll be joining Eddie. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." They both said in unison.

Miguel watched as your parents quickly signed the contract. Once the deed was done, Miguel removed himself from the room and told everyone to do what they pleased. Your parents were quick to cry for help, begging for their lives.

They weren't going to die, but they will wish they did.

-----------

You sniffed and cried into your pillow, complaining about not being able to breathe and missing Miguel. Lyla found it both cute and slightly annoying. The fact that you loved Miguel so much despite him being such a brute was the annoying part.

"It's okay, he'll be back soon. The vampire doesn't like his sun," Lyla teased.

"Stop calling me that," Miguel said with a heavy sigh as he placed some medicine and a bag down.

"M-Miguel!" You sobbed, reaching out for him. Miguel chuckled as he dismissed Lyla, "M-Miggy! I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby." Miguel hummed as he picked you up. Your arms wrapped around him immediately, "Let's get you washed up."

You hummed happily, resting your head against his shoulder. Miguel undressed the both of you and filled the tub. His warm embrace, keeping you at ease. Miguel kept you between his legs once the bath was filled.

"I brought you some Pho, thought you could use something hot to ease your throat." Miguel kissed your head as his hands roamed your body. You muffled a quiet moan,

"T-Thank you, Miggy," You cooed, his hands groping your breasts, "H-How...was...y-your day?" You asked.

Miguel kissed your neck, making your already fuzzy brain even more rattled. Your breathing got heavier as Miguel's hands kept teasing your body. You turned to face Miguel, burying your head against his neck as you whimpered and moan.

"Accomplished," Miguel replied as his hands started to rub your clit, "I was able to get everything I wanted done."

"G-Good...mhm..."

Your arms snaked around his neck as you started to move your hips to his hands. Your body was already burning up and weak, causing you to reach your orgasm quicker than usual. Miguel must have found this amusing since he chuckled.

"Awe, is my good girl a little more sensitive today?" He teased, his finger now inside you, curling against your gummy walls, "Don't worry, I won't tease you for long. Gotta wash you up,"

"M-Miggy~" You moaned with a cough.

Your vision was blurry enough as it was, but you could still see Miguel's loving expression. You cried out as Miguel slid his cock into your folds, starting his rough charade of thrusts. Your grip was tighter against his neck as you cried and moaned his name.

"Such a good girl, taking me in so well," Miguel grunted as he held your waist, "I'm going to take such good care of you from now on,"

"Ah~ Hah~ M-Mig~" You shivered, clenching against his dick as you cam once more. Miguel pulled you in for a kiss before giving you a load of his seed,

"You don't have anything to worry about now, (Y/N)" He said with a grunt, pressing your back against the wall as he turned the shower on now, "You're safe with me,"

"Mhm~ Y-Yes....I-I am~" You agreed, barely able to hold onto him.

Miguel realized that he was getting carried away and decided to just give you one more load of him. He grunted as he held you in place, enjoying the last of your sickly moans and whimpers. With a heavy sigh as he felt you suck his dick in, Miguel waited for him to finish cumming before pulling out.

"Mig..."

"Shh, can't waste all you're energy, baby. You still need to eat and take your medicine," Miguel said with a chuckle as he cleaned you up.

You squirmed slightly in place, muffling small whines as Miguel washed your body. His hands were still so hot compared to your burning skin. Feeling yourself being lifted, you leaned against Miguel as he carried you out of the shower.

"Don't fall asleep yet," Miguel whispered as he dried you.

"Shirt..." You pleaded.

Miguel complied and gave you one of his shirts to wear. He dressed himself once he finished with you and carried you back to the bedroom. Sitting you in his lap, Miguel helped fed you the soup and gave you the medicine.

"Get a good's night rest, (Y/N). I have a lot to tell you tomorrow." Miguel whispered as he kissed your head.

"Ni...ght."

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next chapter (final)

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.

“I would not,” you repeat.

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”

“Sir Bryce--”

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the witcher #series #au #medieval au #winter's king

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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months

Text

Scandal-Hit Princess

One Day I'll Fly Away - Chapter One

Chapter Summary | A scandal-hit Princess, ink barely dried on the divorce papers and a lone rancher with no interest in the inevitable media storm following her meet for the first time - it’s a recipe for disaster, right?

Word Count | 2.6K

Pairing | Joel Miller x Princess F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | foul language, descriptions and mentions of divorce and infidelity, Joel being a rancher and kinda aloof and unbothered, mentions of body image issues and stress, mentions of the British royal family, no-outbreak AU, no use of y/n, smut in future chapters but nothing else at this point.

Authors Note | Well, here she is - Miss Scandal is ready to meet you all! This has been such a labour of love for me already and I cannot tell you how excited I am to bring you this story. It’s different, but I love it, and I hope you will too! As always, thank you to @undercoverpena and @hellishjoel who have been on the receiving end of so much shouting and screaming about this! Please, if you do enjoy this, consider leaving a comment or reblogging - I will love you all forever! And you can support me further by donating to my Kofi account if you want to.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Kofi | Series Playlist

Rage is the only thing you really feel anymore. The feeling of betrayal, that’s gone. The feeling of sadness at losing the life you had, that’s also gone.The only thing that remains is the rage, bubbling slowly under your skin. You’ve been sitting in it for six months now, sitting with the injustice of it all, how someone had taken one singular conversation and flipped it on its head. The more you think about it, the more you can understand the conclusion everyone had come to, especially when the man wearing the crown had spun the story to suit him, his family, and his fucking son. Traitors, the fucking lot of them.

It hadn’t always been bad. You wouldn’t have said yes to the wedding if it had, regardless of how big the ring had been. He’d been sweet, charming, and despite the fact that your family came from money, he’d given you a life you could only have dreamed of. Sure, the endless flying around the world to shake a few hands and stand for a few photos, tilt your head down and look placid when you talked to anyone, took flowers from children and gripped the arms of people in distress, that all got tiring, but the fairytale had been all worth it really, until it hadn’t.

When the papers became more interested in who made your clothes, or the fact that the colour you’d worn didn’t suit you, or worse, sent some kind of subliminal message, or why the angle of the camera made you look pregnant when you weren’t, or how there must have been an argument between you and your husband because you hadn’t looked at him for the entire time you’d been at the ballet one time. When the focus shifted from what you were trying to do - shine a light on suffering or simply cheer people up by your presence, to trying to find fault in every single thing you ever did, that’s when you started to wonder whether it was all worth it.

Then came the control. The rules. Don’t eat that. Don’t wear that. Don’t paint your nails that colour. Don’t say this. Don’t stand like that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. And it never seemed to matter how much good you did, how many initiatives you visited or how many sick people’s bedsides you sat next to , someone always had something to pick on. You could be the strongest person on earth, but the more someone picks away, the harder it gets to be yourself. But then, that’s what they wanted wasn’t it? Take the ideal woman on paper and grind her down until she was the ideal woman in real life - someone who kept her real thoughts to herself, behaved properly and didn’t rock the boat.

It strikes you now, in the solitude of this hotel room, that by trying to mould you into that person, you became the very thing they were terrified of all along. Someone who didn’t just rock the boat, but well and truly capsized it. It’s something of a comfort really, sat in this room like a prison, a nice and comfortable prison, but a prison none-the-less, that all it took was one woman who’d had enough to start tearing the family down from the inside. And it’s not like you’d really tried that hard to do it anyway - it hadn’t even been your intention. It just so happened that you’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time and someone had twisted your words - and his - to mean something they absolutely were not. If it hadn't been for what it had cost you, a one way ticket to the middle of nowhere and a reputation in tatters, you might find all this quite funny, but alas, there was nothing about this exile - or rather banishment - that was funny rot you right now.

You slam the magazine you’ve been trying to read down on your lap in frustration. The heat in this place is fucking stifling. Who the fuck suggested Texas as a good idea? Sure, it’s a world away from where you’d just come from, and for now, the press, obsessed with you since day one, hadn’t quite figured out where you were yet, but it was only a matter of time really. Someone would tip them off for a hefty sum, poor Nancy and her hotel would be swarmed and it would be up and on to the next place to try and lie low. You’re bored and bored is dangerous.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching out your back before you stand, slip your shoes on and open the door. You look up and down the hall, quiet, no sign of Rob, head of the security detail you’d been given following your divorce. It would have been nice of them if it hadn’t been a way to keep an eye on you. You knew Rob was giving updates to the people back at home.

You lightly pad down the hallway once the door to your room is closed, taking the steps down to the reception quickly, stepping on your tiptoes until your hand traces over the front reception desk, Nancy immediately looking up from her papers.

“Your Highness.” Has become the greeting, with a slight curtsey, it’s wrong, but it doesn’t really matter anymore does it?

“Can I get you anything?”

You smile at her, leaning your elbows on the reception desk, cheek resting on one of your palms.

“Well, Nancy, I’d love some of those peaches from a few days ago, do you still have any?”

You watch as her expression drops, her skin tone draining like she’d made the biggest faux pas possible.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” She gasps, “You liked ‘em so much we used ‘em all making dessert for tonight.”

“Sounds delicious,” You smile, big and broad, charming, “What are we having?”

“My famous peach pie,” Nancy taps the side of her nose, “My mama’s recipe.”

“With ice cream?” You ask, adding a wink at the end.

“Anything for you,” Then she adds, “I can send out for more peaches if you’d like them.”

You think for a moment, because they really are delicious, especially warmed from the sun where they’ve just been freshly picked, “Where do you get them?”

“Oh, at the Miller ranch, it’s a little way out of town, but he’s famous for them.”

“You know, I might go and get them myself.”

Joel Miller scoffs into his coffee as his eyes scan the front page of the newspaper. Scandal-hit Princess in USA. He knew she was here. The town was abuzz with gossip that Nancy, owner of the nicest, fanciest hotel in town, was hosting her. Cleared out the entire top floor of rooms just for her. Restaurant closed whenever she wanted to eat. Someone had driven up to his ranch three days ago, asked for a boxes of peaches for her. Her favourite fruit apparently. He’d handed them over without much thought, asked for the usual price and then found himself with a very generous tip, folded into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks at the grainy photograph on the front page, taken through the window of the hotel, Princess sitting pretty, head down looking at the table. The photo is grainy, definitely not the best paparazzi work he’s seen splashed across the front page, but it’s enough to see her hand on the back of her neck and the hunch of her shoulders, trying to make herself look smaller than she is.

It’s a far cry from the woman he’d seen on the TV two years ago. It had been madness in his mind, that the entire world had ground to a halt to watch two people get married. Sarah had insisted that they all sit and watch it together, and he had thought Ellie would have his back, but she was just as enthralled watching her walk down the aisle. Weirdly, he remembers the dress, the white tulle, short lace sleeves, something sparkly peppered through the material, catching the light when she walks. But what he remembers more than anything, is her smile. The way she beamed when she was handed over, hand slipped into her soon-to-be husbands. It’s strange that divorce touches everyone, and no matter how big you smile, it’s always hiding something under the surface.

He looks briefly to his watch, realising he’s late for feeding and those sheep are going to give him hell if he doesn’t feed them soon. He downs the rest of his coffee, shoves the newspaper into the recycling box, he doesn’t really read it anyway, even when the news isn’t splashed from cover to cover with gossip about what that damn princess did or didn’t do, so he’s definitely not going to indulge it now, and then he’s out into the truck and heading down to the barn to stock up on feed.

It’s a strange world to him, this ranch life. For as long as he could remember he’s wanted to do it. Maybe it’s the solitude it offers him, the way he can finally think for himself after years of raising his daughters. Maybe it’s the way that unlike his daughters, his flock of sheep tend to do what they’re told, unless it’s this morning and he’s twenty minutes late to feed them, then they’d gather around his legs, bleating senselessly until he drops their feed onto the ground to appease them. What he really thinks is that it gives him a purpose. He grows fruit, peaches mainly, but a few other crops, that he gives to Nancy down at the hotel, or offers to Steven who owns the bakery, fruit that feeds his community. He shears his sheep, gives their wool to Betty and Ines to make clothes with. Sat out here, on the fringes of town, with more land and space than he knows what to do with, an empty house no longer filled with his daughters, this place gives him a reason to get up each morning. They all need him in some small way.

Once he’s finished with his morning chores - feeding the sheep, plucking the ripe peaches from his trees into crates, fixing up some of the fences that a few of the more boisterous sheep had knocked over and serviced the small tractor in the barn - he jumps back in his truck, the warm Austin sun, blazing at midday, licking at his skin, bringing sweat beading across his body, and goes back to the house. He’s just stepping out of the truck, rubbing his dirty hands with a rag from his back pocket, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, when he notices a car pulling in to the bottom of his driveway, driving slowly up to come to a stop at the front porch of his house.

As he rounds his truck, he can see that the car is nicer than anything he’s ever seen in town. Sleek black, clean as a whistle, windows dark so he can’t see into them. It sits idling on his driveway until he climbs the steps at the back of the house, rounds the porch and stands at the top of the steps, leaning against the side of the stairs, fingers looped in one of his belt loops.

The front passenger door opens and bulking man gets out, sunglasses over his eyes, black t-shirt and jeans and a bald head. He nods at Joel, one of those classic nods that men understand when they give each other, then he opens the back door wide. Joel sees one leg step out of the car, then another, long, loose-fitting white trousers, then the rest of the body comes into view. He can’t quite believe it when he realises the person standing in front of him, pushing her sunglasses onto her head so she can look right at him, is the same person from the front page of the newspaper. The People’s Princess herself.

“Joel Miller?” She asks, voice sweet, lilting, as she holds out her hand for him to shake when she’s stood close enough to him.

He looks down at her hand - perfectly manicured, soft, by the looks of things, never seen a day of work in their lives - then looks at his, bigger, covered in filth, hard and calloused, definitely not the kind of hand she wants to be shaking. He thinks this must be muscle memory for her, the only work she knows how to do is hold out her hand and talk nice to people.

“I gotta bow or somethin’?’

She smirks at him, drops her hand, “I don’t think that’s necessary these days.”

“Can I help you?”

“Well,” She starts, voice sweet and peppy enough to start to annoy him, “I’ve been eating these peaches since I got here, the sweetest, juiciest I’ve ever eaten, and we’ve run out,” She brings a foot up to rest on the bottom step, Joel immediately stepping forward to stop her coming any closer into his bubble, “And I’ve been told you grow them, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” She tilts her head, “Might I buy some more?”

“How many d’ya want?”

“A crate, please, if you have enough to spare.”

Joel spins on his feet, takes heavy footsteps back around the house to his truck, picks up the crate of peaches he just picked, the one with the most fruit in it and makes his way back to the front of the house where the Princess is still waiting.

He offers her the crate, holding it out in his hands. He watches as she turns to the man who opened her door for her, nods her head towards the crate, watches as he takes it from Joel. She stands up on her tiptoes as the crate passes her, plucks one of the peaches from the top.

She looks at Joel, right in his eyes as she bites into the fruit, obscene slurping sound in the air as she sucks the juice into her mouth, bringing a finger up to catch the drops that fall onto her chin, making sure she doesn’t drip it onto her pristine white suit.

“How do you grow them to be so perfect?” She asks, taking another bite from her peach, teeth dragging through the delicate skin.

“Plenty of sun,” Joel shrugs, “Good soil.”

She hums, nods her head in agreement, “Well, thank you for these,” She turns back to the man who has just put the crate in the boot of the car, nodding at him, “I’m sure I’ll be back for more.”

The man offers Joel some money, enough for at least three crates of peaches, but he finds he doesn’t argue, takes it like he did the first lot, slips it into his back pocket. He doesn’t wait for the car to leave, just turns on his heel, heads into his home, praying that her promise to come back was an empty one - if there’s one thing that Joel needs less than a hole in the head right now, it’s a hoity Princess sniffing around.

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the-travelling-bitch · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

summary: losing your virginity can be daunting, even more so when you’re dating the avatar of lust; luckily, asmo is only interested in making this as comfortable for you as possible

pairing: asmodeus x fem-bodied! reader (gn pronouns)

warnings: slightly angsty (insecurities) but with comfort, porn with a hint of plot, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of toys (vibrator), fingering, asmo being a demon+ demon form! asmo, soft!asmo, consent king asmo, cream pie/ unprotected sex, use of petnames (sweetheart, darling, love, hon/honey), marking

obey me! masterlist

Being with Asmo was borderline perfect; he was an angel of a demon, if you overlooked his crazy parties and the tendency to voice just about every dirty thought coming to mind. With you though, he was always gentle and very patient. Sure, Asmo being Asmo, he has always been very straightforward about how much he wanted you, both in- and outside the bedroom, but he had always reassured you that he loved you no matter what and was willing to wait for you to be comfortable with taking things further.

Truth was, you had never had sex before, something you had told him early on, even if it meant setting your own face ablaze with embarrassment. So the thought of being this inexperienced while your boyfriend was the literal Avatar of Lust had anxiety ball up in your stomach.

Said demon, however, had only cooed at you, pulling you into a soothing hug before confessing that he was already aware of it but that he very much appreciated you being so honest with him. That was the day you learnt lust demons apparently had a knack for spotting if someone was a virgin or not and you considered crawling into a dark cave and never coming out again.

You had, however, decided against it and had continued your life in the Devildom as usual… well as usual as a human living in literal hell could be. After your conversation with Asmo, you had found yourself lying in bed at night, your thoughts swirling around the cute demon and quickly drifting into more sexual directions, especially on days where you’d spent a lot of time with and around him. Faintly you had wondered if his charm worked on you after all, but you had tossed the thought aside with your panties as you tried to scratch the desire inside of you, desperately trying to bring yourself to a high with your fingers but only ever ending up frustrated between your crumpled sheets.

Perhaps motivated by your denied pleasure, you had stammered out you were ready to take your relationship to the next stage, making Asmo pause scrolling through Devilgram and turning his entire attention on you. Your hands had felt clammy as they curled into his plush comforter and you had avoided looking at him but soon thereafter, soft fingers had grazed your chin and pulled you out of your own head and back to the demon looking at you with so much love and adoration in his sunset-coloured eyes.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he had said as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “It means a lot to me.”

After making sure you didn’t feel pressured into this decision, Asmo had sat you down and worked out what you felt comfortable with, what didn’t appeal to you at all and what you weren’t sure about, all under the rule of being subject to change in the future. He had also asked about any experience you had, whether that was using your fingers or if you owned any toys. Upon hearing you used to have one but that it was still up in the human realm, he had playfully suggested going shopping for a replacement. Despite having nudged his side at the comment, you really appreciated him taking the time to understand your situation and you felt significantly less nervous about your inexperience after talking to him.

Against what some might think of him, Asmo had not tried to jump you the second you had given him the go ahead, no. Instead, he treated you to a relaxing self-care evening to ‘scrub away the stress that must have come from making that decision’, letting you soak in his grand bathtub, sharing his expensive creams with you, painting your nails and doing face masks with you.

In fact, it wasn’t until you were lying on his bed another night, curled up in his warm embrace while watching a film, that anything changed at all. It wasn’t even that the scenes on screen were particularly spicy but something about being so entirely surrounded by him, whether it was his sheets, the scent of his shower gel clinging to his skin or his cologne drifting up to your nose from the shirt you had snatched from his closet, made you crave the demon lying behind you.

“Asmo,” you crooned, shifting to face him as he hummed at your call, bright eyes blinking down at you curiously.

“What is it, honey?” Using this chance to sneak some affection, he leant down to let his lips wander over the juncture where your shoulder met your neck, inadvertently encouraging the desire starting to pool below your navel.

“Do you… do you remember what we talked about when we had that spa evening last time?” You gingerly asked, skirting along the edges of the topic at hand.

“We talked about lots of things.” His chuckles vibrated against your collarbones. “You have to be more specific than that.”

“You know what I mean!” You whined. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to or I might be getting the wrong idea, darling,” he said, tongue trailing your soft skin and amusement clear in his voice. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“I- I think you might be getting the right idea,” you stammered, your heart beating out of your chest to the point you were afraid it might jump right into his hands. Not that it wasn’t already lying there in a metaphorical sense, at the point of melting as he poked it to his liking with his perfectly manicured hands. “Asmo…”

“Hmm?~” This time the amusement in his voice was apparent, the demon not even trying to hide it.

“Kiss me… Please…” Your whisper was quiet as your eyes skirted down to his glossy lips, before flicking up to his again as one of his fingers traced the curve of your bottom lip.

“So polite~” You watched his stunning eyes slide to half-mast as he leaned in, stopping right as his lips brushed yours, just to tease you even more by moving his head back and making you subconsciously chase his lips. He chuckled airily. “Guess I can’t deny a sweet thing like you, especially when you ask so nicely.”

Then he connected your lips seamlessly, enveloping yours in a pillowy softness you’d only ever find in dreams. Slowly, his hand found its way to the back of your head, nails massaging your scalp gently as he angled your head the way he pleased to guide the kiss. When his tongue swiped languidly over your lips, coaxing you into allowing him entrance, Asmo skilfully pulled the first moan out of you and swallowed it eagerly.

You ran a curious hand up his chest as he deepened the kiss, pure passion radiating off of him and seeping into your brain, jumbling your thoughts around like clinking marbles. With your mind fogging over with lust, it was all too easy for him to roll you over, slotting himself on top of you, careful to not put most of his weight on you.

Following his eager hands running down your sides, Asmo’s lips, too, trailed downwards, leaving lipgloss smudges all over your jaw, throat and collarbones. You couldn’t see it, your eyes closed as you basked in his attention, but Asmo’s downright glowed in his dimly lit room as you tilted your head to the side and bared your vulnerable neck further to him.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re so good to me,” he crooned, as he licked his lips, drinking in the sight of you, hair dishevelled, collar of his shirt pulled down and his gloss shimmering against your skin. It was a sight that could only be improved upon by getting you to writhe in his sheets as strings of pleasured moans spilled from your lips. Oh, Asmo could already feel his fingers tingle at the image, a shiver running down his spine in anticipation. Well, the best way to get you there would be to get you au naturel first.

Playful fingers crept under the hem of his shirt, dancing along the growing sliver of skin he was exposing, his pearly white teeth showing in a fanged smile at the goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch.

“You’re too cute for your own good,” he mumbled, almost dazed, as his lips attached to your skin once more, tongue darting out for a first taste, one that made him groan low in his throat and crave more. “So sweet~ How did a darling thing like you fall into the hands of an Avatar of Sin? I bet every demon down here would love to sink their claws into a human like you. But too bad, you’re all mine. All mine to taint.”

The whimper the demon pulled from you as his nails traced over the sensitive skin of your stomach was pure music to his ears and he’d be more damned than he already was if he couldn’t hear any more of your sweet sounds. Though, this night was about you. He’d make sure you were comfortable, that your first sexual experience with someone else would be pleasurable. After all, once you had a taste, he was sure you’d come back to him for more all on your own.

“Darling, can I take this off?” He tugged on the hem of the shirt that was already halfway up your chest. When you only nodded with pleading eyes, he giggled at your enthusiasm but still caught your chin with two fingers. “Sorry, love, but that won’t do. I need your genuine, verbal consent, even if we’ve done this before. Doesn’t matter if I have to pull it from your pleasure-clouded brain later on as long as it’s the truth. So you better memorise that fast, alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he placed a quick kiss against your temple. Your fingers pushed a soft strand of champagne-coloured hair out of his face, giving you a better look at his slightly dilated pupils before you spoke again. “Help me take my shirt off, please?”

“Sure can do,” Asmo hummed before carefully sliding the garment over your head and arms. When you’d snuggled into bed with him earlier, you’d foregone a bra for the sake of comfort and, now, skilled fingers immediately traced the path of your collarbones, down your sternum before cupping your breasts. “See how perfect these look between my hands? It’s like they’re meant to be worshipped by me.”

It wasn’t the first time you were nude in front of Asmo and it also wasn’t the first time he’d touched you. From bathing together to choosing an outfit, he’d always been a very hands-on kinda guy, as long as you let him. It was, however, the first time where he was working you up for more with his touch and it made your lungs constrict with equal parts nerves and excitement.

If that hadn’t been clear from how he massaged the supple flesh between his palms, it would have definitely been understood when his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples, fangs slightly indenting the skin around it, while his fingers rolled the other one between them. Despite the new sensation, it felt good, your hand finding its way back into his hair, carding through the strands as you exhaled slowly.

When Asmo was happy with the marks he left all over your chest, he licked over some of the deeper bites, even if he never broke skin at any point, before trailing kisses further down your centre. By now, there was no lipgloss left to smudge, no matter how kiss-proof it was supposed to be.

Reaching your hips, his sharp teeth caught the waistband of your pyjama pants, snapping the elastic back against your skin when he pulled away to slide the remaining garments down your legs, again with your approval. Gliding his smooth hands up your bare legs, parting them as he resumed his position between them, Asmo guided your thighs to rest over his. The compromising position had heat curling in your abdomen and your heart rate speeding up without him actually touching you yet.

“Is this alright, darling?” He checked in with you, head coquettishly tilted to the side. “Although there’s no need to be nervous, I want to remind you that we can stop at any point, okay?”

“I know,” you confirmed. “But I want this, Asmo. I want you.”

“My, my, you certainly know what to say to make me excited. Look at you, you look so beautiful with your legs spread out for me. Oh this is going to be so much fun, I’ll make you feel so good.” While he was speaking, his fingers had already wandered up the inside of your thigh, his touch so light you barely felt it against you, yet it had the most tantalising effect. Especially when he skirted around the sensitive area of your core, never quite touching where you needed him most, your hips wriggled for more friction on their own. Something Asmo shut down with a playful tut and a hand pushing you back down, his demonic strength making itself known. “Ah ah ah, sweetheart. We agreed that I’d guide you through your first time, right? So be good and behave and I’ll give you exactly what you want~”

“Asmo, please don’t tease me.” Despite your words, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. Not when you could feel the way your slick started to coat your folds the more he stroked his nails around them.

“But you look so cute like this, I have to indulge just a little,” he giggled. Then, without a heads up, he swiped his thumb through your slit, catching some of your arousal and smearing it over your clit with scary accuracy. Surprised by the sudden stimulation, you let out an audible gasp as your hips twitched in his hold. “Ooh, that was a gorgeous face. Show me more.”

Without much resistance, he slid one finger inside your entrance, savouring your warmth around him before setting a steady pace and checking your reactions. When there was no discomfort from your side, he soon added a second one, changing the angle every now and then to map out your body.

Getting to work yourself definitely didn’t compare to how Asmo curled his fingers inside of you, the experience of someone else in charge of the movements providing a level of excitement you didn’t have on your own. And while it clearly wound the knot in your stomach tighter than ever before, it still wasn’t enough to get you there and wisps of anxiety slithered past the cracks in your lust.

Shouldn’t this feel amazing? Shouldn’t you be at the point of shamelessly moaning his name by now? But if you couldn’t even orgasm like this, with the Avatar of Lust between your legs, was there something wrong with you? What if—?

The pressure of his thumb running circle eights against your clit effectively cut off your string of doubts as you inhaled a sharp breath, clenching down around the fingers working your insides.

“You’re overthinking again, love. Lust isn’t something you think about, you just feel it. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time, we’re both learning together here.” Asmo leant down to pepper a few kisses around your navel, his voice patient and gentle before picking up a little mischief. “But if your brain decides to be mean, I might just have to shut it off completely.”

That promise certainly made you clamp down harder on him, a shiver running down your spine in anticipation. In turn, Asmo let out a laugh as he eased his fingers out of you, his eyes fluttering shut and a lewd moan bouncing around the room as he cleaned his fingers off with his tongue. The sound would’ve made you rub your thighs together if Asmo’s waist wasn’t preventing you from closing them.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you on your very first orgasm but I promised I’d make you feel amazing and I’m holding myself to that.” With a snap of his fingers, something small and pink appeared in his hand, something you identified as a small vibrator. To test the waters, he let the thing buzz to live before gently rolling it closer to your sensitive areas. “You don’t mind this little buddy joining us, do you?”

When the vibrations rolled against your clit, you opened your mouth with a surprised noise, your knees locking his hips in between them. “N-No I don’t mind.”

The demon downright purred in satisfaction as he brought his fingers back to your pussy and resumed his thrusting, still experimenting with the angle and the settings on the toy. Your mind was starting to race again as he hit a different spot inside you and focused the vibrator on a different area and-

“Oh!” You threw your head back into the pillows, one hand digging into Asmo’s hair, the other into his sheets, as you locked your feet over his butt, his pact mark tingling against your skin. The spasming of your hips was reigned in by the palm holding the vibrator when your back arched off his mattress and your teary eyes clenched shut. Your lips parted in an ‘o’ shape as laboured breaths and rhythmic moans passed through them.

The sight of you giving into pleasure had Asmo’s hips rolling into the bed of their own accord in time with your walls fluttering around his digits, the lust oozing from you as you approached your high making him near delirious with power.

“Is that it, darling? Is that the spot?” He moaned, his dick straining against the fabric of his underwear as he kept the pace and angle of his thrust consistent, his mind swimming with desire for you, fuelled by the pleasure he was already giving to you. “That’s it, you’re doing so well, you’re almost there. You look so gorgeous falling apart on my fingers, such a perfect human, giving yourself to me. Come on, cum all over my hand, I know you want to.”

You followed his voice through the fog like a sailor following a siren as he pushed you further and further towards release, your stomach clenching and unclenching without any rhythm now. If you didn’t fall over the edge soon, you thought, you’d truly go insane over the foreign pleasure he made you experience, his hands not letting you wriggle away from the intensity.

Then, with a loud moan of his name, bliss washed over you, from your thrown-back head to your curling toes and it made everything worth it. You could feel the pleasure sizzling through your veins like molten lava, melting your bones and leaving you to writhe on his sheets.

Asmo continued to languidly pump his fingers, coaxing as much arousal from you as he could while the vibrator was still buzzing on the lowest setting until you pushed his hands away when the overstimulation started getting to you.

Leaving you to catch your breath and return to your body, Asmo held eye contact with you, sunsets half-lidded before fluttering shut completely when he brought his fingers up to his mouth. Like he’d done earlier, he cleaned your slick off of them, but this time his moan was obscene as he pressed his hips down into the mattress, his tongue flicking out provocatively as he licked in between his digits.

“Mhm, just as I thought, you taste divine~” Asmo’s tongue flicked over his lips, catching every bit of your desire clinging to them. “It’s hard to find a delicacy like this in the Devildom, so sweet I could eat you right up. Next time I’ll have to help myself to a proper taste but I know what you really want right now.”

Pulling your centre flush to his hips you could feel his erection through the smooth silk of his pyjama shorts, the material soaking through with your release immediately and clinging to your folds as he rubbed his dick against you. Both of you sighed in unison at the welcome friction; gone were your anxious nerves, you needed to feel him inside of you now. And you weren’t above telling him either.

“Asmo, please, I need you so bad,” you whined, hands trying to reach for him but merely grazing over his hips. “I want you so much, please.”

You watched him shudder at your begging as his hands reached to unbutton his sleep shirt, the pink silk slipping off his shoulders, slowly revealing more and more of his flawless skin. He was basking in your undivided attention on him, making sure to pose perfectly to give you a show, despite having you in his bed already. It was working in his favour though because, as the light framed his champagne locks perfectly, he could see your eyes rake all over him and your fingers twitching to feel his skin against yours.

He took his time sliding his stained bottoms off, revelling in the way your lips parted as his dick slapped against the planes of his abdomen. Just like the rest of him, it was perfect. Flushed a light pink towards the tip with a few veins decorating the shaft, Asmo was just the right amount of length and girth to make your mouth water and walls clench around nothing, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Like what you see, pretty?” He teased as he settled back above you, his natural body heat enveloping you once more as he leaned up to press more open mouthed kisses along the path of your collarbones, throat and shoulders, his tongue darting out to taste the salty flavour sticking to your skin.

Warm hands caressed your hips in soothing circles as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the gesture so gentle in contrast to the words being spoken against the shell of your ear. “So beautiful, so sensitive, so soft, I can’t wait to ruin a pretty thing like you. All you have to do is relax and indulge; you can do that for me, right? Just give in to the pleasure, give in to me, and let me do the rest.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, dazed by his close proximity, “I can do that.”

“Such an obedient human, you make me so proud,” Asmo cooed. Shifting his weight onto one forearm, his other palm slid down your body, wrapping around your thigh to hike it over his waist. The position allowed him to thrust his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick and catching your clit on every forward motion.

This time there was no mistaking it, his eyes did glow in the dim room, shifting between your bodies and your face, your mewls of stimulation and the tears clinging to your lashes drawing his attention effortlessly. Without resistance, he let you pull him down for a deep kiss, one full of passion and want and need, mirroring perfectly how your hips had started bucking up against him.

Swallowing each of your breathless noises, Asmo parted from you by tugging on your bottom lips, fangs digging into the plushness. “Are you ready? If anything makes you uncomfortable, tell me immediately.”

When you gave him the okay, he positioned the glistening head of his dick against your soaked entrance before taking his time to push past the first tight ring of muscle. He let his head drop forward as your warmth enveloped him, whereas you threw yours back against the pillows at the stretch.

There was a slight sting as he pushed in further but it was completely drowned out by the addictive feeling of being filled. You couldn’t believe you went so long without his veins gliding against your velvety walls, clinging to him as if they tried to remember his shape only. If this was lust then you understood why Asmo as its embodiment was so entrancing and alluring.

Said demon exhaled a shaky breath as he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, willing himself to hold still as you adjusted to his size. Throughout the centuries, he’d thought he’d made just about every experience he could, always making sure whoever he was with had their needs met. He’d charmed countless humans, demons and one or the other angel alike, tumbled into their beds and fed off their lust, satiating both himself and them.

But there was something different about this. This night, there was seemingly no end to his desire; he craved more, he needed more of you. Of you and your lust. Just like when you shared your power with him, there was something about the sin dripping off of you that made it hard to control himself.

Luckily, you were just as impatient to feel more of him as he was, every initial inhibition thrown out the window. Instead, you pressed the heel of your foot into his lower back, encouraging him to go even deeper than he already was. “Asmo, move, please…”

Not needing to be asked twice, he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before thrusting all the way back in, setting a slow but deep pace that had you twisting in his hold. Using the knowledge of your body he’d gained earlier, he had no problems hitting your most sensitive spot dead on to see your back bow in sheer ecstasy.

Embarrassed by the lewd moans and whines echoing around his room, you bit down on the back of your hand, trying desperately to muffle the sounds, only for Asmo’s fingers to curl around your wrist and pull it away again.

“None of that, darling, I want to hear you. You sound so cute with my name on your lips like it’s the only thing you can think about, don’t deny me this pleasure.” He punctuated his sentence by delivering a particularly hard stroke to tear a sinful moan from you as he intertwined your hands, squeezing down on your fingers as you clamped around his cock. “Besides, if anyone gets to bite you, it’s me.”

Now, with your hand pinned beside your head, all your noises were spilling freely, combining with the sound of skin slapping and the obscene squelch of your cunt fluttering around Asmo’s girth to create the most beautiful symphony. Your body felt like it was on fire, the demon burning you from the inside out as beads of sweat started rolling down your temple when the clenching of your walls around your lover started gaining in frequency again.

Trusting you to keep your hand away from your mouth, Asmo slipped it between your bodies, circling your clit and pushing you to greater heights than before, encouraging you to cream all over him. Losing yourself in pleasure, your sentences became more incoherent, all rationale seeping from your mind.

“Oh my god! Asmo!” You wailed at a specific thrust that made your knees jerk against him, free hand tugging on the roots of his hair, clamping down harder at his melodic groan that followed.

“Praying to a demon? What a naughty human,” he chuckled, voice now a lot more strained, his focus entirely on working you up further. “You should’ve learnt by now not to tempt a demon but you’ll see where that lands you.”

The knot in your stomach was so close to snapping, various muscles already flexing under the onslaught of pleasure. You just needed a little more.

The Avatar of Lust was almost in disbelief at how close he was himself. Normally he had better control than this, able to outlast just about anyone if he so desired. Yet, on this night, control was slipping from in between his dexterous fingers faster than he wanted to admit. Seeing you shed your inhibitions and submitting yourself entirely to him and his sin, however, was driving him wild. The ecstasy cursing through your pact only added to the sensation. It was entirely different to any other fling he’d had over the centuries.

Asmo was positively drunk on you, the essence of your lust flooding his senses and making him tremble where he pressed you deeper into the mattress. Pure power was clouding his mind and every one of his nerve endings felt like lightning was passing through it.

There was a rustling in the sex-heavy air as his leathery wings unfurled behind him, flapping with each jerk of his hips. Claws were digging into the skin of your thigh as he tightened his grip on you, no doubt leaving little imprints to find in the morning. Your hand in his hair now closed around the base of one of his horns, feeling the ridges of each segment dig into your palm.

When he went back to sucking on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, sharp fangs scraped against the skin of your throat, a silent reminder of the true nature hiding behind his bubbly personality. Yet, the notion that one of the most dangerous demons of hell was currently so close to all your most vulnerable areas didn’t scare you. If anything, it was exciting.

Before you could do so much as warn him, you seized up around him, pushing yourself as close to Asmo as you could when you came with a loud moan of his name on your lips. Wave after wave of sinful bliss washed over you, pulling you in whatever direction they pleased, like a shaky leaf on the tides.

The sensation shot straight through your pact and down Asmo’s spine, his hips stuttering as he groaned so low in his chest it almost sounded like an animalistic growl. You felt like a doll with its strings cut, boneless and floating as he rode out your orgasm while chasing his own, following no rhythm but still teetering you on the verge of overstimulation.

With one final snap of his pelvis, he pushed himself in as far as he could before searing hot ropes of cum painted the depths of your insides white. Rolling his hips, he coaxed the last bit of pleasure from both of you, then collapsed on top of you to catch his breath.

For a few seconds, only the sound of your shared breathing could be heard, heartbeats in sync against each other’s chest as Asmo lazily pressed more kisses along your skin, especially in places where he’d left a visible mark. You were in return carding your fingers through his sweat-matted hair, tracing the curve of his horns gently with your fingers. The sensation made him giggle.

“That was a first for me, too,” the demon admitted, sounding not at all shy about it.

“Hm? What was?”

“I don’t usually slip into my demon form without meaning to,” he answered your curiosity. When bright eyes met yours, there was so much adoration shining in them you were glad your knees couldn’t physically buckle. “But you looked so beautiful and felt so amazing, I was transforming before I even knew what was happening. More importantly though, what about you? I sure hope I could live up to the expectation.”

“No, you far surpassed it,” you chuckled. “To the point where I seriously doubt anyone else could make me feel this way.”

“That’s good,” he mused, wiping away a stray tear drying on your cheek. “I’m hardly a possessive guy but with you it’s different. The thought of someone else seeing you like this, of you moaning someone else's name, bothers me. I want to be the only one driving you to sin in this way.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you hummed playfully. Leaning down, you gave the crown of his hair a loving peck and he laughed into the crook of your neck.

“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up,” Asmo cooed, carefully pulling out of you and taking a moment to appreciate the visual of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets.

Holding out his hand for you to take, he waited as you uncurled yourself from the bed, gingerly swinging your legs over the side of the mattress. Only to almost greet the floor as your wobbly legs gave out underneath you as if they were made out of jelly. Despite being busy laughing, Asmo still caught you effortlessly, supporting your weight before sweeping you entirely off your feet and carrying you to the bathroom bridal style. Again, his slender build betrayed his true strength, lifting you as if you didn’t weigh much more than a feather.

“Oops, I should’ve warned you,” he sing-songed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Although you flatter me, you could’ve just told me I fucked you good enough for you to lose the ability to walk.”

“Stop making fun of me!” You whined, hands coming up to hide your face, which might as well be set ablaze from the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Oh I’m not making fun of you, sweetheart. You’re just so adorable, I can’t help myself,” Asmo laughed that airy laugh of his. When you looked up at him, his half-lidded gaze was already on you as he licked his lips, fangs peeking out as you noted he still hadn’t shifted back into his more human form. His voice dropped as he studied the way your throat convulsed when you swallowed.

“In fact, you’re so sweet, I just might make good on my promise to eat you up once I get you into the bathtub.”

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

#┊ elogia cinerosa ‧͙*̩̩͙❆彡 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obswd #obey me smut #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #asmodeus smut #asmo smut #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #om! asmodeus #obey me x you #asmo x you #asmodeus x you #minors dni

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crazyk-imagine · 11 months

Text

Married Off to a Beast?! (Or Troll)

Pairing: King George x Fem!reader Characters: Charlotte, Fem!reader, King George, Adolphus (briefly mentioned) Warnings: A memoriable scene, fluff, Charlotte doesn’t approve of running away, George is a simp, Reader and George are enamored with each other, Charlotte is a hypocrite, George regrets nothing, reader knows she can’t resist him now, reader showing skin O:O Word Count: 1,356

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You walk back and forth in front of the wall. You take a deep breath and step closer. "Charlotte help me."

"No," she shakes her head, wanting little to no part in your escape.

You spin around to look at her, your body visible for anyone to see if they walk down this path to the garden. "Your brother married me off without my consent, you will help me."

She huffs, scratching the side of her head. Out of the two of them (her and her brother), she's always had a harder time saying no to you.

"Fine."

George watches as you call for her assistance and decides to walk further down. Neither of noticed him, not until he cleared his throat. “Hello, My Lady.”

You glance over your shoulder to find a charming man standing a few feet away.

He turns to your cousin. “My Lady.”

Her eye twitches, you know it did; you didn’t have to look at her to know. “Are you in need of assistance of some kind?”

“Uh, I am quite fine, thank you.” You return to your mission. “You can go back inside and wait with all the other gawkers.”

Charlotte whispers your name. She understands your feelings about the situation but there is a better way to address someone.

"I… will. What are you doing?"

You huff, “nothing.”

“You’re doing something.”

You internally groan, not wanting to berate some man for something he had no control over. “I am not.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are!”

You jump down from your place and spin around to face him. "If you must know, I am being shipped off into a marriage I did not give my consent to and one I had no prior knowledge of, therefore I am leaving before it can happen."

"Oh," his brows shot up in surprise.

“Yes, so I am currently trying to find the best way to climb over this damned garden wall so that I may live my life the way I choose to.”

He mutters a few things, trying to understand this new information he’s been given. “Whatever for?”

"For the love of-" She mutters, hearing the wheels turning in your head.

"I believe he may be a beast.”

"He isn't," she assures you.

"How do you know? I mean, do you know what he looks like?"

She rolls her eyes, knowing you’ve been on edge since... well, since you were informed of your future role.

“You think he is a beast?”

“Or a troll.”

“Uh, who are we discussing.”

You furrow your brows, “no one who concerns you.” You study the wall, sighing to yourself. “The King. Only because no one will speak of him. No one. So, he can only be a beast or a troll if that’s the case.”

“Understood.”

Charlotte shakes her head, lowering it so George doesn’t see the disappointment on her face.

“If I grab there,” you point to an ideal spot. “You can assist me by lifting me up.”

“One question. You do not like beasts or trolls? What he looks like matters?”

You shrug, “I do not care what he looks like. I care about my sanity… and the not knowing. That, that is what I do not like. I do not like the not knowing. Now come here and help me.” You gesture for him to come closer. “She will not help me. You grab here,” you hold your waist, “and lift me.”

“You want me to lift you over the wall so you may escape?”

“That is what I said, is it not.”

You shake your head, mumbling to yourself, “it’s as if he isn’t listening.”

“Won’t people notice you are missing?”

“Her brother will make her take my place, I’m sure.”

“What?” Charlotte nearly screeches.

“I have little care to worry about that. Now, if you please. I just need a little assistance from a more cooperative audience. Make haste.”

“I have absolutely no intention of helping you.”

You’re baffled. You step off the wall and march towards him. “Do you not see I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help me? Again, a lady in distress.”

“I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so that she does not have to marry someone I think you'll find rather appealing."

You furrow your brows, "and why's that?"

"Because I am... his majesty."

You take a step back, realizing the many errors you’ve made leading up to now.

“Hello,” he says your name.

"Oh, no," your cousin mutters. She takes a step closer, pulling you towards her. "Be quiet and bow."

You start to apologize. “I am deeply s…”

And then your training (from when you were a young girl) kicks in and you bow, "My King."

"No, no. Just George."

"Your majesty."

"Not your majesty, George."

"Your-"

Your cousin rolls her eyes and sneaks away (not wanting to listen to you two anymore). She’s off to find her brother. Not to mention the fact that she needs to hide from her betrothed as well… which explains why she willingly followed you.

"George."

"You-"

"George."

"Y-"

"George."

"Your-"

"I mean, yes your majesty to you, just George… For you, I will be your George, I like that," he smiles.

“I- I need you to accept my apology. You see, if I had known-”

“You would have what? Not told me you were trying to escape?”

“Yes- wait no, I mean…” You huff, “I do apologize your majesty.”

“George… Your George. The “King” situation towers over us and I was hoping as my wife, I could be just George to you. I mean, that was of course, before I found out that you do not want to be married to me.”

You furrow your brows, “I did not say that.”

“You did.”

“No.”

“Many times, in fact.”

You purse your lips in anger, knowing he’s right. “I do not know you.”

He raises his arms, “I do not know you either… other than finding out… how terrible you are at climbing a wall.”

You scoff, “you try climbing in this,” you wave to your outfit and lift the skirts of your dress, showing him your ankles. “These garments and shoes. They’re terrible, but if I don’t want to hurt myself, I must.”

His constant stare worries you.

“What?”

“I- No one told me you’d be this beautiful. Perhaps, you’re too beautiful to marry me. People will talk… given I’m a troll.”

“I believe I said beast.”

He chuckles.

Your face twists as if you’re in pain but only thinking of your future marriage. “Your majesty.”

“George.”

“George. I- I still do not know you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Ev- fine.” He gives you information to help ease you into knowing more about him and potentially help your future marriage.

“It sounds like you’re bragging.”

He chuckles, “another to know about me is that… I am- well, nervous about marrying a girl I’m only just meeting minutes before our wedding. Only, I cannot show it and climb over a wall because I am the king of Britian and Ireland and that would, cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a troll, nor a beast. Just your George.”

The corners of your lips twitch.

Charlotte’s voice interrupts you two. “My brother is on his way, so we must leave now.”

“I-”

“I have one question.”

“Yes?”

“Have you decided whether you wish to marry me? Or would you prefer to go over the wall?”

You gulp.

“As much as I would love to hear your answer, I have to go because I believe there are some anxious guards who think I’ve been kidnapped.” He grabs your hand and whispers your name as he places a kiss upon it. “I hope to see you in there.”

You watch as he walks away. “Have you decided? Because there will be a scandal one way or another.”

“I-” you take a deep breath. “Come with me, you impatient brat.”

“I am not a brat.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

#Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #queen charlotte #queen charlotte fanfiction #queen charlotte fanfic #king george bridgerton #king george #king george x reader #king george fanfic #king george fanfiction #king george x you #king george fic #king george bridgerton fanfic #king george bridgerton fanfiction #king george bridgerton fic #king george bridgerton x reader #king george bridgerton x you #crazyk-imagine

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fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year

Note

Hello! I'd love to see Jacob Black and/or Edward or Emmett Cullen with a single mama. She was given custody of the 1.5 yr old when his or her parents(reader's friends) passed. The little one is ENAMORED with whomever you write it for(like silently follows them/copies them when they're doing something it's just adorable.) Please and thank you!!!

🍄 Pairing: Emmett Cullen x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: Emmett is about to meet the one year old that you took in after your best friend died and surprisingly your toddler's not the one who's nervous...

🍄 Word Count: 1852

🍄 Abbreviations: (t/c) - Toddler's name

🍄 Warnings: None

🍄 Note: Thank you for the request @twilightlover2007! I hope this is what you were looking for, I had a lot of fun writing this. There might even be some Little Bee drabbles in the near future... ♡

(E/c). Bright, shining, (e/c) eyes. That was the first thing that had caught your attention in the hospital that night a year ago. Despite the heartbreak and despair that had gripped at your heart as the Chief of Police stood in front of you, his words seeming to merge together, barely decipherable through your sobs, the second you stepped through those hospital doors your life changed. Surprisingly, for the better. The tragedy of your friend’s death had become a new shining ray of hope in your life as you took on single motherhood. The tot was barely six months at the time of her parents’ death, but you had, had the joy of watching her turn into the one year old she was today.

Your eyes fluttered back and forth as you watched the hulk of a vampire pace in front of you. Emmett had always been a bundle of energy. You had said from the start that he was like a toddler on a sugar high almost a hundred percent of the time. But this was a different kind of energy than the one you were used to. You were used to the boisterous and bouncy vampire you had come to know and love, but this was a new kind of energy. You had never seen Emmett this nervous. If you hadn’t been parked outside of the daycare center you were sure he’d be blurring back and forth in the trees, his ‘human’ pacing just didn’t seem to cut it.

Your eyes glanced to the door of the daycare center as yet another toddler disappeared with it’s parents into the parking lot. You knew soon that the nursery assistant of (t/n)’s class would poke her head out of the curtains wondering where you were. You were never usually late.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you pushed off where you had been resting against the jeep and forced yourself to stand directly in Emmett’s path. But Emmett didn’t miss a step and circled around you, stopping at the end of the jeep and twisting to circle back just as he had been doing prior. You reached out a hand and rested it on his arm as he made to pass you again and held on as tightly as your human strength would allow.

“Babe, stop,” you muttered and Emmett came to a stand still beside you. You paused for a moment to make sure that he wouldn’t start pacing again before dropping your hand to your side. “What’s going on?” Your eyes searched his face for any indication as to what had brought on this nervous energy, but nothing. “I thought you were excited to meet her? If you’ve changed your mind that’s fine-” An uncomfortable lump grew in your throat at the thought of him changing his mind.

You wouldn’t dare hold it against him if he did. But the lump in your throat stayed prominent. (T/n) came along with you. There was no way around that and that meant Emmett wouldn’t be able to stay if he decided he didn’t want anything to do with (t/c).You shook your head softly to dispel the cloudy thoughts. Your poker face must not have been as good as you thought as Emmett’s golden gaze locked with yours almost frantically.

“No, no. It’s not that,” he sighed. You reached out and linked your hand with his, rubbing soothing circles on his marble skin. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want to meet her, I do, it’s just...” His lips pursed together as he searched for the right words. “I mean, what if… what if I hurt her?” Confusion flickered across your features.

“Babe, where is this coming from? You never worried about this before.” You waited for an answer but there was nothing. “Look, you’re great with Renesmee-”

“Yeah, but Renesmee’s half vampire.”

“And half-human,” you reminded. “And you’re great with me too and I’m a hundred percent human. At least the last time I checked I was.” And still were to yours and Emmett’s knowledge. “Emmett, there is no one I trust more with (t/c) than you. And I know for a fact that the second she see’s you, she’s going to love you. I know I did. So prepare yourself, you’re about to be trapped forever.” You giggled.

Emmett’s lips tugged a little at the corners.

“Was this your master plan? Make me fall in love with you and then get your toddler to trap me?” He offered you a dimpled grin. “Cause baby, let me tell you, I’m not going anywhere, you’re like a drug and I’m already hooked. You’re stuck with me.” He lowered his head down to rest his lips against yours and captured them in a short but heart-racing kiss. His lips danced against yours, pulling you in closer with his hands on your hips against his firm chest.

A light giggle broke through the parking lot silence as another father passed by you with his son in his arms, asking about his day. You pulled back from Emmett and blinked hazily up at him for a moment. He always seemed to reduce you to nothing with his kisses, they always engulfed you entirely even if you were the one initiating it. Your heart thudded against your chest and your cheeks darkened as Emmett smirked down at you, no doubt hearing every shudder your heart made against your ribcage.

“Come on,” You entwined your fingers with Emmett’s and turned to tug him gently towards the daycare center. As you neared the entrance, your eyes glanced to the Sunflower Room window where the curtain twitched and the familiar red headed woman appeared to peek through the curtains just as you had expected. Lila was a lovely nursery assistant and (t/n) loved her. She had always been kind to her and was never judgmental towards your circumstances.

Just as you reached the doors, Lila appeared and buzzed you in.

“Hey,” she beamed as you entered, tugging a slightly awkward Emmett behind you. “I was just about to start wondering where you were. I take it this is Emmett?” Emmett nodded and smiled politely. “Well, it’s great to finally meet you. I’m Lila, (t/c)’s nursery assistant.”

You followed to the door of the Sunflower Room and Lila pushed it open. One of the other helpers was just clearing away some of the colouring that had been left out. You’re eyes rested on your little (h/c) toddler sat on the floor with her stuffed elephant and some other stuffed animals that she had collected from the corner of the Sunflower Room. She was babbling incoherently which she had been doing for a couple of months now, she had always been quite a vocal baby.

“(t/c),” Lila called over. “Look who’s here.” (t/c) turned her head at Lila’s voice and locked eyes with you instantly. Just as it always did, there was a light tug in your heart as her bright (e/c) eyes stared at you, seemingly looking into your soul. Your lips pulled into a wide smile as the little tot grinned a toothless grin and pushed herself up onto her feet. It had been nearly three months since she had perfected her walking without tumbling to the ground every time she stood on her own feet. And she was fast too. In seconds she was clumsily running over to you.

Her arms were splayed wide as she came towards you, you released Emmett’s hand to drop into a crouch and allow her to slip her arms around your neck. You peppered kisses all over her face as she giggled furiously. You finally stopped with a little giggle of your own as she looked back around for Lila, but instead her eyes locked on Emmett. Your eyes flickered between (t/c) and Emmett. (t/c)’s nose scrunched as she stared up at the unfamiliar man. It was almost comical to see your large teddy bear of a boyfriend acting more sheepish than a one year old, but you knew his nerves were still present.

“Ah?” (t/c) turned back to look at you, seemingly waiting for an explanation, her small head tilted to the side much like a puppy.

“This, my little bumblebee, is Emmett, my boyfriend,” You knew that she wouldn’t necessarily understand what you were saying, but a formal introduction felt right. “And Emmett, this little bumblebee is (t/c).” You offered him an encouraging smile. Emmett dropped into a small crouch, and even then he still towered over you and (t/c). She continued to study him silently as he smiled at her with a little wave.

“Em?” she hummed. “Em. Em!” (t/c) pulled out of your embrace and shuffled over to stand in front of Emmett, her little palms coming to rest on his cheeks as she continued to repeat ‘Em!’ excitedly. You couldn’t help but let out a little huff laugh as she moved to grab one of his hands and tugged him across the room towards the plush rainbow carpet laid across the ground. She dropped his hand and lowered her body to pat her hand on the carpet, then looked up at Emmett expectantly. The poor vampire turned to you baffled as she did it again, seemingly more impatient this time.

“She wants you to sit,” Emmett nodded and lowered himself onto the ground, awkwardly crossing his legs looking a little uncomfortable.

You watched closely as the little (h/c) haired tot trotted over to the shelves in the book corner and selected the one she wanted, you briefly saw the cover and recognized it as the book My Monster and Me by Nadiya Hussain, which you had recently brought for home. You’d been reading it religiously since you’d brought it home from the store and it was one of her favourites. The toddler wandered back over to Emmett, his eyes following her every move. He straightened his back as she approached and turned herself around so that her back was facing him, she dropped down into his lap, her little legs raising above the floor as they didn’t quite reach over his stretched ones.

(t/c) wasted no time, she flipped open the cover of the book. Emmett, thinking that she wanted him to read to her, started to speak but in a second her hand was pressed to his mouth, her little eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, uh, uh,” She shook her head firmly. She pressed her finger to her lips indicating to him to be quiet. When she turned back to the book, she began ‘reading’ to him. Not that she was giving any of the actual words, instead it was just the toddler gibberish she had picked up, but that didn’t make the scene any less adorable. Three pages into the story, you caught Emmett’s eye. He offered you a soft smile. In that moment you knew everything was going to be okay and that (t/c) had just gained herself another protector for life.

#emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen oneshot #emmett cullen imagine #emmett #emmett x reader #emmett oneshot #emmett imagine #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight oneshot #twilight imagine #request #requests open #reqs open

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taggedmemes · 5 months

Text

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART ONE

i think you're past the point of saving.

together we might survive.

get me out of this damn thing.

we have no time for stragglers.

do you intend to die for a stranger?

i thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin.

you keep dangerous company.

we can watch each other's backs along the way.

enough of this chatter.

who put you in charge?

i'll trust my own judgement.

a miracle, given everything you've been through.

it'll all be for nothing if you don't find help soon.

you're alive. i'm alive. how is this possible?

seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about.

anything's an improvement on where we just came from.

'we'? you want to stay together?

we need each other.

i can't think of better company.

i wanted to thank you again.

you should be furious, shouldn't you?

kill it yourself — you look capable enough.

i was hoping for a kind soul.

let's try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece.

no need for this to get messy.

i need her alive.

and to think i was ready to decorate the ground with your innards.

please, allow me to introduce myself.

of course it'll turn me into a monster.

you should travel with me.

our odds are better together.

i was ready to go this alone.

maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea.

you seem like a useful person to know.

let's hope any future acquaintances don't hold a blade to your throat by way of introduction.

no harm in a little mystery.

conversation shouldn't be made, it should be grown.

maybe i'd like to get to know you better.

i'm usually better at this.

couldn't have phrased it more repellently myself.

you don't happen to be a cleric, by any chance? a doctor, surgeon? uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?

it's not exactly a common affliction.

a parasite shared is a parasite halved.

you're both twice as tall as me but have half the bloody backbone.

no point getting killed.

second worm gets the cheese and all.

nobody's getting any damn cheese.

she obviously sees your kindness as weakness.

don't let her take advantage.

a simply 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss.

your friends abandoned you.

i've got plenty of friends who aren't soft.

let's just hope she reserves those impulses for any common foes.

what a curious way to awaken.

what is the worth of a single mortal's life?

something the matter?

you must have thoughts about our little stowaways.

thinking about it won't help.

i suppose we'd go our separate ways — not a slight on your company, of course.

no reason for us to not stay together if we get on well.

if we do survive, we'll have separate lives to return to.

let's just say it's a very person, very private acquaintance.

you're not the kind of company i'd keep willingly.

perhaps i'll return the favor at some point.

she's delightful, in a very 'look at me twice and i'll dismember you' kind of way.

i understand much beyond your comprehension.

you'd do well to observe more and question less.

and they didn't cut you from navel to neck?

i am still getting used to people like you.

that large, fleshy nose of yours looks like a mistake.

best to keep quiet, lest any drivel leak from your lips.

i do not intend to stay long in this place.

may your actions express the same mettle.

anomalies lead to surprises.

what hasn't happened may yet come to pass.

not a collaboration i'd have anticipated.

can't you tell me something real about you?

i have a great respect for privacy, especially my own.

i have a very disciplined mind.

those tricks won't work on me.

please don't try that again unless i invite you to.

we meet again, as predicted.

care to explain why you're helping me?

what kind of services can a skeleton offer?

a monster forms inside us, and you care to be idle?

i knew your kind to be fragile.

don't you know an exhausted warrior is an ineffective one?

it's a thickheaded notion in a complex circumstance.

what were you two talking about?

if that was any of your business, we'd have called you over.

your business is mine.

we're entwined.

if we're to survive, we need to trust each other.

you seem reliable.

we're overdue some good fortune.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #bg3 meme #roleplay meme #inbox meme

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eamour · 11 months

Text

past, present and future

when we are speaking of time as in past, present and future, we must keep in mind that manifesting doesn't happen linearly. time — the way we know it — doesn't exist. we only ever experience consciousness, therefore we can only experience it now. we are defined by what we are conscious of in this given moment, not by what we used to identify with in the past or what we are going to identify with in the future.

there is no objective past.

what is our past? how do we know that it has existed? well, memory. again, manifesting is a process that is enabled by our consciousness. what we are conscious of — or in other words — what we have been conscious of in the past only exists or continues to exist the way it does because of how we choose to remember it aka how we choose to be conscious of it. you could say that the past is an illusion.

dwelling on the past.

dwelling on the past, dwelling on past mistakes that have been made, and so on means to dwell on a state — an unfavourable state. if you repeatedly return to that state, you become aware of it once again, you experience it in your imagination and relive it. and, well, you embody that version of yourself again and what used to be a "past state" becomes your "present state". when you dwell on the past, you re-identify with the past version of yourself and bring them "back to life". why? because as we already know, what we are aware of being now manifests. "because our thoughts of the past that we dwell on, do not recede but precede in our future." — edward art

choose what you want to remember.

now, what does this mean? since we are all the conscious creators of our lives and the outer world is just a reflection of our inner world, we need to pay even more, actually most of our attention to our awareness. you get to choose what you want to remember, as "there is no difference between an 'imagined' past and a past you think you experienced". — vesora, my beloved.

you are not who you were once.

past and future — just like present — all exist within you, your mind, your imagination. you don't have to be tied to the past. you don't have to declare it as true if you no longer desire it. you are not obligated to deem it as real. and remember, no one can forcefully try to associate you with your past if you don't want it!

there is nothing to regret.

don't feel ashamed of yourself and of what has once happened to you. don't beat yourself up, don't complain about the past, don't feel sorry for yourself and use that energy to create a new, better version of what has once existed or happened. because, again, past mistakes (made by you or others) don't define who you are now.

change what has happened.

see, the 3D is a the physical product of the imaginal acts made in the 4D. it doesn't exist on its own, nor does it have to remain the way it is. and who is in charge of it? you! so you decide what is going to be a part of your life, what has been a part of your life and what will be a part of your life. all change that results in the physical world has to be imagined in the mental world first. that's how you manifest — that's how you decorate life.

be in charge of your story.

knowing that your past is whatever you make it and only exists in your mind, it quite literally means that you carry your "story" within you. it's like your whole past can be rewritten whenever you feel like it and no one can take that away from you. no one can influence you or take away your power as you and you only are in control of your path!

be present, live now.

you can change what you want to be aware of any time. you can always choose to rewrite your entire story, to add an unexpected plot, to end and start something new, to add a side story, ... to do whatever the hell you want, simply because you can and you will! let this be your wake up call to finally move on, forget about the history you are clinging on to and imagine a new story. leave the past as it is as it can no longer harm you. don't go back to it, don't look back, just move forward.

with love, ella.

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theorphicangel · 3 months

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

Synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar

series | previous chapter | next chapter

chapter 3: war and anything but peace

“Are you still upset by that review?” Lyla prompts, chewing her morning toast loudly in front of you.

You groan aloud in response to her comment, auditory proof that if it wasn’t obvious enough by your body language and mood for the past forty eight hours, yes, you were still pissed.

That bastard almost cost you your job. Your very first job in fact since you had made it to college and he had almost made you lose it.

“I swear if I see him around on campus today, there’s no promise that I’ll stop myself from drop-kicking him.” you warn in a low tone as you peer into the fridge searching for something to eat.

Your shoulders drop in disappointment as the bare white corners of the refrigerators grimly greet you and your hungry stomach, guess you’ll just have to go grocery shopping later.

But for now you think that you can settle on an omelette to satisfy your needs. You take what you need and head over to the counter to prepare your breakfast.

The meeting on customer etiquette wasn’t too bad. Steve was…nice about it in a slightly condescending way. You just wished that you were given a chance to explain yourself from your own perspective, to try and prove that you weren’t actually trying to be rude.

Although, an upside of the meeting was that you’re now being taught on how to use the machines properly in the cafe.

“He almost cost me my job, Ly’.“ you note to your roommate, cracking two eggs into a bowl before whisking.

“Ah see, key word: almost.” She points out gleefully. “From an optimistic point of view, you still have your job right?”

You huff as you whisk, muttering. “Barely.” Your motions fastened quickly, gripping the whisk tightly. The thought of him proudly posting that comment makes you want to rage and you do so, letting your anger out on the current task of whisking eggs.

You groan aloud again, pouring the beaten eggs into the pan. “I just still can’t believe he did that to me. He barely fucking knows me.”

“Mhmm, like you’ve been saying for the past two days.”

“He’s publicly humiliated me, and now the whole campus knows that I’m the shitty barista at the cafe.”

“Not everyone–” Lyla quips up, a light smile drawn over her lips. “No one reads google reviews, if he really wanted to hurt you he’d go on yelp.” she snorts.

“Lyla, that’s not funny.” you deadpan, turning to face her.

She raises her hands, seated at the table. “Okay, okay, it’s not like I’ll give him any ideas, I haven't even met the guy myself.”

“It’s hard to miss him.” you mutter under your breath, specifically referring to his height.

“What was that?” Lyla posed, not hearing your response.

“Nothing, nothing, m’sorry I just…it was really embarrassing having to be talked down to by my manager about not doing my job properly, like it was so condescending. If I mess up one more time, then I thinkI’m gone for good Ly’. Even MJ was surprised to hear me come back.”

“Maybe you should get revenge.” Lyla notes, finishing up the last of her toast.

“What? Like murder him?”

“Woah, woah, hey there missy I wasn’t thinking about going that–“

“I was joking Lyla.”

A silence creeps in between the two of you, the sound of the eggs frying and Lyla’s crunch of toast being the only sounds in the room. As the scent of the omelette rose in the kitchen, you let yourself get carried away by your thoughts. Only a little bit. You know you said that you wouldn’t think about it anymore but you just can’t stop thinking about wrapping your hand around his large, veiny…

“I think you’re burning your omelet.” Lyla interrupts suddenly and as a result forces you to unconsciously squeak out your ongoing thoughts.

“Neck!” you say aloud.

“What?”

“What?” you repeat after her, dazed and confused.

“I said I think you’re burning your breakfast, babe.”

“Oh shit—”

Following your public mishap, you’ve returned to work. Eager to start over on a new leaf. MJ shows you all the basic tricks and shortcuts needed for the job which you note step by step in your head.

It goes smoothly, once you clock in. You make sure to smile at every customer, greet them with a cheerful tone, and try hard to put in all of your efforts to make up for what happened last week. So far it looks like no one really knows about the bad review online and you loosen up at the thought.

Lyla was right, you think. You had absolutely nothing to worry about.

MJ agrees too, praising you a few hours into your shift. “You’ve seemed to handle it well. Most people would have crumbled for good after having a talk with Steve.” You nod eagerly at her words, your eyes brightening up slightly.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do if he comes in again?” She asks, referencing back to your crude insult directed at him.

Sure, you had thought about a way to get revenge. In fact you had compiled a list of ways to get him to delete the review, that’s the only way that you’ll truly be able to move on from the situation.

Hesitating, you think about your answer before you speak, choosing from the list of possible methods to convince him.

“I’ll kill him with kindness.” you say, smiling before you hand the next customer a drink.

MJ hums. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll make him regret it.”

That’s all you get the chance to say before the devil himself walks into the cafe. MJ gives you a nudge, signaling you to get back to the till and take his order. This is the first time you’ve seen him since you’ve found out about the review.

Pulling on a fake smile and exaggerating your cheerful tone, you greet the tall and brooding customer in front of you.

“Good morning, what would you like today?” you greet, an eager smile on your face.

Miguel cocks up a brow, peering down at you. You don’t seem bothered in the slightest. He wonders if you’ve even read the comment yet.

“Coffee, milk, no sugar.” His face remains deadpan. You hum lightly, tapping his order into the till. You watch him pay, swiping his card without a second glance.

“I’ll bring it right over for you.”

MJ prepares his order for him whilst you get through the rest of the queue.

Just like before, you walk over to his table, isolated from the rest of the people in the cafe. You figure that he’s a loner in general and judging by his behavior, it’s not hard to see why.

“The nerve that you have.” you murmur, practically placing down his coffee with aggression. So much so that the hot liquid overspills on the table.

“Excuse me?” He frowns, his brows furrowed deeply, creating a crease.

Awh. He’s playing innocent.

“Your review. I saw it.”

He takes a moment before speaking again, his frown now switching back to a sort of smug face.“I was wondering if you saw that.” He mumbles. “What’d you think about it?”

That smile. That goddamn smile. You think you picked up his eyes lighting up just as the pure mention of the review. What a sadistic man.

You hold back a smirk as his eyes meet yours. They’re playful, teasing. He barely knows who you are yet plays into the temptation of learning how to push your buttons.

You batter your eyelashes on purpose, remembering to stick to your method of kindness.

“Anything else I can get for you, Miguel?”

His name slips easily from your mouth in a sultry tone. You weren’t really expecting that to come out of you and judging by the way that Miguel’s eyes widened slightly, you think that he wasn’t expecting it either. He sort of likes the way you make his name sound like that.

“Nope I’m good for now, nena. Pretty good service today, maybe last week was a fluke.”

“Maybe it was.” you say and suddenly your hopes are raised. Here’s your chance.

“Perhaps my service is good enough to take down the review now?” you propose, a smile printed across your face falsely. You take out a tissue from the metal box on his table and lean down to wipe away the split remnants of his coffee.

Your face is so close to his, you can practically feel his eyes bore into your skull as you wipe his table clean.

Miguel is so focused on you that he doesn’t even notice the words slipping from his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

“Really?” You glance up, now eye-level with him as you’re half bent over the table. Miguel leans closer to you, his face just a few centimeters away from yours. Your stomach fills with anxiety and apprehension but you’re not really sure why. His eyes never leave yours and you’re fighting every single muscle in your body to keep your own latched onto his own brown and intimidating eyes.

Miguel hums lowly, his voice low and rough as he whispers. “But you’re gonna have to try better than that if you want the review taken down, nena. I can practically smell the desperation from you. It’s…sad.”

Right there and then you swore that you have never wanted to kick a guy in the balls. His cocky attitude, the way that he looks down at you when he stands from his table,

You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes. You stand up fully, crumpling the paper tissue in your hand. “Fine. Keep your stupid review.”

“What?”

“Keep it up. You’ll regret it.”

Miguel snorts, clearly judging you. “Should I be scared?”

“I dunno’…should you?” you say, tilting your head. This time you’re not afraid to keep eye contact with him. He doesn't scare you and you shouldn't let him know how intimidated you are by him.

The two of you observe each other for a few seconds, waiting to see who’ll back down first. Your fists are clenched by your sides, your body and mind screaming at you to look away.

And unfortunately, you give in to your natural instincts.

Miguel opens his mouth to say something to you, probably something to tease you even more until his phone buzzes in his pocket. He immediately pulls it out and reads an incoming message that’s popped up on his home screen.

That frown that you once saw at the beginning of the conversation had now returned. This time his expression seemed a little more…unsettled.

“I gotta go.” He says abruptly, before downing his latte. Your eyes can't help but notice the way that his Adam apple moves as he drinks the beverage, causing the uneasy tension to return back to your stomach… again.

“You should get back to work.” He mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t keep the queue waiting because then you’ll actually start living up to the review y’know?”

You’re quick to open your mouth to voice back a quick-witted reply when MJ calls out your name. You turn back to see her glancing over at you from the coffee machines.

“Hey! A little help here?”

Your shoulders sag at the thought of leaving your task unaccomplished. Shuffling away from his table, you move back to your station, entirely missing the way that Miguel turns back to look at you before he leaves.

Looks like he wins this one.

For now.

You - Nil

Miguel - 1

lmk if you would like to be tagged! tysm for reading <3

#angel writes #under no circumstances fic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara

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candycandy00 · 6 months

Text

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Rough sex. Use of aphrodisiacs. Brief attempted rape. Lots of cum. Divider by @benkeibear!

The next day, Toji takes Megumi to school and makes arrangements for his uncle to pick the boy up afterwards. You’re a little sad to see Megumi go. While he started out a bit rude, he seemed to be warming up to you. Hopefully, you’ll get the chance to spend time with him again.

You and Toji have breakfast together, then spend the rest of the morning enjoying each other’s bodies. At lunch, Toji orders takeout, and while the two of you are eating at the small table in his room, he says something that makes you totally lose your appetite.

“So there’s a buyer who wants to meet you.”

The plastic fork in your hand drops to your foam plate. You knew this was coming, you’ve been mentally preparing yourself for it. Meeting with potential buyers is part of the process at the Doll House. It’s one of the things that makes the place so popular among buyers and people considering becoming dolls. Meeting with someone a few times before the purchase gives both parties a chance to feel each other out before making a ten year commitment. Dolls even have the right to reject buyers if they provide sufficient reasoning, though obviously they can’t just reject buyer after buyer.

But these past few weeks with Toji have been like a dream, like a fairytale. You’ve been so happy spending every day by his side, and now reality is crashing into your fantasy. You definitely haven’t given up on the bet, and you have almost two more weeks, but you realize that you have to play by the rules. You have to meet with the buyer.

“Okay,” you say, picking the fork back up, “I’ll meet him.”

Toji watches you, seeming surprised that you’re not arguing about this. “I’ll have the owner set things up,” he says after a pause, taking a bite of his sandwich.

The meeting happens two days later, in the afternoon. You sit in the welcome room of the Doll House, Toji standing nearby, as you wait to meet your potential buyer. Even though you still feel confident that you can get Toji to fall for you, there’s something nerve wracking about this meeting. Knowing this man wants to literally buy ten years of your life, if the meeting goes “well”, just makes you feel awkward and mildly creeped out.

When the owner walks in, there’s a man walking beside her. He’s younger than you expected, much younger than Toji. You guess his age to be no older than mid twenties. He’s not repulsive, in fact he’s sort of cute, dressed impeccably, and carrying himself in a dignified manner. But he’s not Toji, and seeing the two men in the same room together really drives that point home.

He sits down on the plush sofa beside you, not too close, and crosses one leg over the other. He flashes you a gleaming smile that probably cost him a lot of money.

The two of you make small talk. Mostly introductions and generic pleasantries. At one point he asks, “What did you do before this?”

“I worked at a convenience store,” you reply with a smile.

His nose seems to wrinkle a bit at that. He returns your smile as he says, “I work for a major investment firm. I’m in high demand, so I stay busy. I don’t have time to date and pursue relationships.”

In your mind, all you can hear is that he doesn’t want to put in the effort required to find and keep a girlfriend, but you keep that to yourself.

“So do you live around here?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, I have a small apartment in town. It’s really close to the store I worked at, so I could walk there and save on gas.”

There it is again, that wrinkle of his nose, as if your frugality is disgusting. To be honest, you’re hoping he doesn’t like you, so maybe you’re emphasizing the fact that you’re borderline poor.

“You might have a hard time getting used to my place then,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s huge, three stories, eight bedrooms, four baths, a pool in the backyard…”

He goes on for a while longer, and you simply smile and nod, with the occasional, “Wow” thrown in. You wonder if he can tell just how much you don’t care about his big house.

The man moves his hands a lot as he speaks, and you suddenly notice light glinting off the gold, fancy-looking watch on his wrist. It’s quite annoying, and distracting. When he notices you looking at it, he stops and holds his arm up.

“You like it? I bet you’ve never seen a watch like this before. If I told you how much it cost, you might faint,” he says with a chuckle.

You give a small laugh of your own. “Actually, the light reflecting off it is blinding me.” Then you hold up your own wrist, where the watch you bought last year at a discount store is sitting. “Mine can catch the light too, and it was only ten dollars!”

Behind the man, Toji has one hand on his mouth, stifling a laugh, the other hand clutching his side. When he meets your gaze, he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way and shakes his head. You have to fight back a laugh of your own.

The man looks at you sharply, and for the first time you get a genuinely bad feeling about him. He smiles at you again, but there’s something off about the expression. He looks like he finds you amusing, in a “here’s a toy I can play with and break” sort of way.

Later, after he’s gone, you and Toji are walking down the hall. “Can you believe that guy?” you ask. “Are all buyers rich assholes?”

Toji laughs again. “Nah, most of them are alright. But this guy? He sure was rich, huh?”

“If there’s one thing I can say about him, it’s that he’s rich,” you reply.

“Yep. That’s the main takeaway from that meeting,” Toji says, grinning.

You think the meeting went well for you, but pretty poorly for the buyer. Which is why you’re quite surprised when, two days later, the buyer wants to have another meeting with you. He’s going to have dinner with you in one of the empty rooms, privately.

“Do I have to be alone with him?” you ask Toji as you get ready for the dinner date.

“Buyers request private meetings all the time. It’s normal,” Toji says, stepping closer to zip up the back of your dress for you. “But it’s just dinner. He’s not supposed to touch you.”

You turn around to look at Toji. “What if he does?”

He gives you a smile. “I’ll be right outside the door. Call for me and I’ll be in there before you can blink.”

“What if he locks the door?”

Toji grins. “Do you think a locked door would stop me?”

You sigh as you turn back to the dresser and look in the mirror. You haven’t dressed up since you got here. Toji seems fine with you wearing casual clothes, or nothing at all. But tonight you have to look “fancy”. You reach down and pick up the glass bottle of Toji’s cologne and spritz some on your neck. Then you whirl around to face Toji again. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss.

“Okay, I’m ready. But just so you know, I’m gonna be thinking about sucking your cock the whole time!”

Toji’s eyes widen, but then he laughs. “That’s one way to get through a boring dinner!”

You grin at him, sliding your hand down to palm his dick through his pants. “Be ready for me,” you say, “I’m gonna be famished when we get back to your room.”

His hand quickly moves under your dress, groping your pussy through your thin panties. “We have a few minutes, maybe I should fuck you right now, send you on your little date with my cum oozing out of your pussy.”

You gasp as you feel one of his fingers slip beneath the fabric and stroke your slit. “Please do! I wanna feel it dripping out while I sit across from him.”

Toji immediately turns you around to face the dresser, bends you over it, and hikes your dress up to your waist. He pulls your panties to the side and slides himself in, easily going all the way into your slick entrance. It’s a quick and rough fuck, with Toji thrusting fast and hard, making your legs wobble and your pussy ache. It doesn’t take long for him to pump you full of his cum.

You stay there, leaning across the dresser, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Toji’s cum seeping out and into your panties. Behind you, he uses his hand to press the fabric against your pussy, getting it all messy and damp. “Don’t change them,” he says into your ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him, finally straightening up and pulling your dress back down. “So while I’m in there, keep thinking about my pussy soaking in your cum.”

************************

Toji watches her walk down the hall in front of him and then go inside the room where the potential buyer is waiting. The door is shut, and Toji stands leaning against it.

Though he looks calm, inside he’s so riled up, it takes all of his strength to resist tearing down the door and fucking her on the table right in front of the buyer. The fact that she wanted to be filled with his cum while having dinner with another man is so insanely fucking hot, Toji is having trouble controlling himself. He wants her under him right now, or on her knees in front of him, choking on his cock.

He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to calm himself down. No doll has ever made him feel this way before. He enjoyed fucking them, sure, but he’s never felt like he needed them. But this girl… he’s getting dangerously addicted to her.

Time passes at an agonizingly slow pace as he waits for their dinner to be over. And when the door finally opens, his heart beats faster when she steps out. The dress is a fairly simple one. She probably bought it at a mall somewhere. But on her, it looks stunning. When she walks by him, he smells his own cologne, his own scent. It drives him wild.

The buyer steps out after her. He doesn’t look very happy despite the smile on his face. She probably made him feel foolish again, or just wasn’t impressed by all his bragging. Either way, Toji feels relieved that the date didn’t seem to go well. He tries not to think about what that means.

He doesn’t even look at Toji, as if the man training his potential sex doll to please him is beneath his notice. Toji doesn’t care. In a few minutes he’ll be balls deep in her tight little pussy while this asshole goes home alone.

Back in Toji’s room, she’s giggling as she sits on his bed, taking off her high heeled shoes. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him I love to shop at thrift stores! I thought he was gonna vomit up his dinner!”

Toji smiles as he watches her, noting how easy and comfortable the conversation is between them, as opposed to the stiff and awkward way she and the buyer spoke to each other. “So did you learn anything new about him?” he asks.

She snorts cutely. “I learned how many cars he has, where his summer home is, and that he only wears clothes from some Italian brand I can’t pronounce.”

“Oh, so you learned he’s rich. Again.”

She laughs and stands up, crossing over to him with bare feet. Having just seen her in heels, he’s struck again by how short she is. But she reaches up and wraps her small hands around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. “I learned that he’s utter trash compared to you,” she says, then kisses him deeply.

The next day, the owner calls Toji into her office to speak privately. He’s always found her office to be slightly intimidating, with its blood red carpets and decor. The desk she sits behind is made of deep cherry wood, glossy with polish. Her chair is lined with velvet, and she holds a folded silk fan in one hand.

“He wants to sample the goods,” she says.

Toji blinks. “Seriously? They’re not hitting it off at all. I get the impression he doesn’t even like her.”

It’s common practice for a buyer to want to “sample the goods”, as the owner put it. What that entails differs from buyer to buyer. Some want to see the doll naked. Some want to watch a few training sessions. Some want to actually have sex with the doll. It’s no surprise that they ask for this, as this is a ten year contract and a lot of money is involved. And so long as the doll agrees to it, which they almost always do, it’s allowed. It’s something that usually happens after a few meetings, and only after the buyer has demonstrated a serious intent to buy the doll.

“He doesn’t have to like her,” the owner says, “he only has to want to fuck her. You know this. Dolls aren’t wives or girlfriends.”

True, Toji thinks, but in his experience, both parties were much happier with the purchase when they got along.

“So? What does he want exactly?”

The owner doesn’t bat an eye. “Full sexual intercourse.”

Toji feels a knot in his stomach. His doll won’t agree to that. She can’t stand that guy. And… the thought of that guy touching her made Toji feel sick.

“Absolutely not,” he tells the owner. “She’s not gonna be willing to do that.”

The owner stares at him silently for a moment, then sighs. “Alright. Sex is off the table. How about I counter offer with some kissing and light touching?”

Toji doesn’t like that either. He opens his mouth to say so, but the owner cuts him off.

“Fushiguro, you’re one of the best trainers we have. You consistently provide excellent results. But there’s something off here. I’ve asked around, and it turns out you can’t get this doll to have sex with any of the other trainers. That’s a staple of your training! Now you’re bristling at the idea of the buyer sampling the goods. What’s going on?”

Toji suddenly feels defensive. “Nothing is going on. She’s kind of attached to me, that’s all. It happens occasionally, you know that.”

The owner taps her long fingernails on her desk. “So do something about it. Pump her full of your drug and send her in to meet with the buyer again. Give her so much she won’t care who he is. Don’t screw up and ruin your track record.”

Toji scratches the back of his head, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll try it. But just kissing and light touching, right?”

The owner nods. “I’ll tell him tonight. If he agrees, we’ll move forward tomorrow.”

Later, when Toji tells his doll about this, she’s understandably upset.

“I have to kiss him? And let him touch me?!”

“Just a little. Nothing under the clothes,” Toji says.

She’s sitting on his bed, wearing pajamas - a tank top and thin cotton shorts. “But… I only want you to touch me,” she says in a small voice. It makes him want to pull her into his arms, but he doesn’t.

“Look, we have to show that you’re willing to give buyers a shot. If not, it makes me look bad as a trainer. I won’t force you to do anything, but I will ask. As a friend, can you do this for me? Just give him a few minutes. Let him kiss you and cop a feel, then tell him that’s all you can handle right now. He’ll leave and that’ll be the end of it.”

She looks at him with wet, glassy eyes, her lips slightly quivering. “Okay,” she says. “But only if you’ll stay in the room with us.”

He sits down beside her and puts an arm around her shoulder. “Of course I will.”

The next evening, the meeting is set up. Toji gives her a dose of the “aphrodisiac”. He expected her to reject it, but she takes it without complaint, saying, “I could drink a gallon of this stuff and I still wouldn’t want him.”

Like always, her skin becomes flushed and her breathing becomes rapid. She stares at Toji with lusty eyes even as the buyer walks into the room. He gives Toji a surprised, unhappy look.

“Are you supposed to be in here?”

Toji nods. “Standard procedure. You won’t even know I’m here.”

The doll is sitting on Toji’s bed, looking small and helpless as the buyer sits down next to her. Her eyes sweep over to Toji as the buyer’s hand moves to her face and pulls her into a kiss. It’s obvious that she’s not feeling it, and Toji thinks the buyer must be able to see that. But the buyer doesn’t seem to care, holding her face still while he sticks his tongue in her mouth, ignoring her whimpers.

The sight of it repulses Toji on a primal level. He’s watched countless buyers kiss and even fuck the dolls he’s trained, and it’s never bothered him. Maybe because it’s never bothered the dolls. Maybe because this doll is different.

The buyer suddenly begins groping at her breasts, his hands rough and clumsy. She draws back a few inches, but doesn’t push him away. Her eyes are on Toji, as if she’s asking if this is enough, if she can stop this now.

For his part, Toji wanted to stop this from the moment the buyer walked in. Every spot the buyer touches on her skin, Toji wants to gently wash for her when they take a shower together later. He wants to erase this entire evening.

After a few more minutes, Toji gives her a nod, and she quickly pushes the buyer back. “Sorry,” she says, “but that’s all I can handle right now. I’m still in training and-“

The buyer cuts her off, kissing her again, then suddenly pushes her onto her back in the bed, climbing onto her and sliding his hands under her shirt.

*******************

You thrash and kick, trying to push the buyer off you, screaming out, “No! Stop it!”

Then, all at once, he’s gone. One second he’s on top of you, pawing at you, and the next he’s simply not there anymore. You look over to find Toji literally holding the buyer by his collar, his feet dangling inches from the floor.

“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Toji says, his voice low. “And she said no.”

Toji drops the buyer, who lands in a heap on the floor. The man scurries away from Toji and then scrambles to his feet, his face red, looking incredulous.

“Who cares what she says?!” the buyer yells. “She’s just a doll! I’ll own her in a week and then I can put the little bitch in her place! The only thing this stupid cunt will ever be good for is sucking cock, and we both know-“

Toji’s fist smashes into the man’s face, so fast you barely see him move. Blood sprays across the room, and when Toji draws back, you can see that the man is now missing several teeth, his lips bloody and busted. You’re instantly reminded of your would-be attacker in the convenience store.

The man wobbles, but somehow keeps his balance. He holds a hand up to his shattered face and lets out a garbled scream. Then he looks up at Toji.

“How dare you!” he screams, the words sounding funny through his broken mouth. You think to yourself that he should just shut up and leave, but apparently a lifetime of getting whatever you want makes you overly bold. “I’ll have you fired for this, you son of a bitch! You’re just a trainer! You’re a nobody!”

That’s when you jump out of the bed, rush over, and kick the barely standing man right between his thighs. “Compared to Toji, you’re nothing!” you scream. “And I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth!”

Toji comes over to stand beside you as the man howls and crumples over. “Nice kick, babe!”

You smile proudly at him. “Thanks!”

The man is looking up at both of you with angry, watery eyes. “I’ll sue! I’ll have this place shut down!”

Toji bends down and yanks the buyer up by his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you sniveling little fuck.” Toji opens the door and drags the younger man bodily into the hall. You follow behind, and the man loudly screams insults, becoming hysterical now.

The other doors in the hall open as the rest of the trainers step out to see what the commotion is about. Even Sukuna is in the hallway now, watching the unfolding scene with a grin on his face.

The buyer notices them all and screams, “What are you looking at?! This place is nothing but a whore house anyway! All the women here are filthy sluts!”

Toji pauses in the middle of the hall. Six pairs of eyes suddenly darken and narrow. The man falls silent at the sight. Toji’s voice is dangerously low as he says, “Now you’ve pissed off the last six guys on earth that you ever wanna make angry. You don’t insult dolls in this house.”

The other trainers begin walking menacingly down the hall toward Toji and the man, and they follow as Toji drags him into the parking lot. You decide to stay inside, but you can hear the man screaming for a long while after that.

When Toji comes back inside, you’re waiting in his room for him. He sits down beside you on the bed and says, “Are you okay?”

You nod, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “I’m fine. I wasn’t scared. I knew you wouldn’t let things go too far.”

Toji looks down at his bloody knuckles. “I wanted to kill him,” he admits, “but I guess giving him a beating he’ll never forget is good enough.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble for that?” you ask, suddenly worried.

“Nah, he tried to force himself on you. I just stopped a crime. He’ll be removed from the client list so he can never come back here. Not that he ever would after tonight.”

“Thank you, Toji. You saved me again,” you say, snuggling closer to him.

He glances down at you, then after being quiet for a few moments, he says, “You said before that you wanted me to tell you about any happy memories I have.”

You look up at him. “Yeah.”

“Well I don’t have a lot of those, to be honest,” he tells you. “But the ones I do have… they all involve Yumi. Megumi’s mom. Do you still wanna hear about it?”

You nod vigorously.

Toji takes a breath, then goes on. “I don’t have a good relationship with my family. I ran away from home when I was a teenager, grew up mostly on the streets, got into gambling, drinking, all that stuff. So I wasn’t the nicest person when I met her. But she burst into my life like a sunbeam. She was chatty and funny and always smiling. And I guess that cheery attitude rubbed off on me a little. We got married, she got pregnant, had Megumi, and at the time I thought, ‘So this is what it’s like to have a happy family’.”

He stops for a moment, smiling at the memory. Then the smile fades. “Yumi got the diagnosis when Megumi was three months old. An aggressive cancer. No chance of survival. They gave her six months. You know, right up until the end, it didn’t feel real. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believed she’d get better. They’d suddenly invent a new drug or she’d go into remission or… or something. I kept thinking we’d get a miracle. But we didn’t. She died five months later. Didn’t even get the full six months.”

Toji’s eyes are clouded with sorrow as he takes another pause, then continues. “I tried to hold it together for Megumi’s sake. I really did. But I just couldn’t. Losing Yumi… it was like losing a vital organ. How was I supposed to live after that? So I went back to all my old habits. Staying drunk off my ass, gambling all my money away, getting into bar fights… anything to keep myself from thinking about Yumi. Then one night I got arrested, and I lost custody of Megumi.”

He notices the sad look on your face and smiles. “It was probably for the best. I wasn’t much of a father to him. And my relatives took him in so he could avoid the foster care system. That was probably my lowest point, but it was a wake up call. I stopped gambling, stopped fighting, got a job… I wouldn’t say I’ve completely turned my life around, because I’m still not raising my own son, but I’m in a much better place than I was.”

“I’m happy for you. That was a lot to overcome,” you tell him, taking one of his hands in yours.

He looks down at you with a warm expression, one you’ve never seen on his face before. “All this is to say, I have a lot of baggage. I’m pushing forty, I have an unruly kid who hates me, and a dead wife I’m never gonna stop loving. If you still think ten years with me is a prize, I’ll keep you.”

Your eyes widen and your lips fall open. “Does this mean… I won the bet?”

Toji looks a little embarrassed as he looks away from your face. “Ah, well, the truth is, these past few weeks, I’ve been feeling things I haven’t felt since Yumi was alive. And it kinda scared me. So I tried to ignore it, but tonight the truth slapped me in the face. The thought of some other man, any other man, touching you… it’s unbearable. Right now, my biggest fear is losing you.”

Eyes brimming with tears, you crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m so happy, Toji! I love you!”

He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back. “I love you too.”

The words sound like music to you. They’re everything you’ve ever wanted. You rise up to face him, looking into his eyes. “So, am I yours now?”

“Not yet. You have to complete the training, then your contract will transfer to me.”

You kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait.”

His hands rubbing your back begin to slide your shirt up. “You really in such a hurry to belong to me?”

You hold your arms up for him to pull your shirt over your head. “I’ve belonged to you for over two years now,” you say. “You just didn’t realize it.”

He grins, turning you sideways in his lap so he can slide your skirt and panties down your legs and off your ankles. Then you turn back to face him again, your legs straddling him. You’re completely naked in his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against the soft fabric of his pants as you lightly grind into him. “Toji, please,” you say, arching your back.

“What do you want?” he asks, a bit teasingly.

“I want you inside me,” you breathe out. “Always.”

His hand moves down to the waistband of his pants, where he pulls the front down. His cock springs free, already hard. He lifts you up slightly so that you can get in position, then you sink down onto it, letting it fill you completely. You moan as you feel the tip hit your cervix. Fuck, if it wasn’t there, he could probably literally fuck your womb.

You grip his shoulders as you slowly begin to move up and down, enjoying the way your body stretches to accommodate him. It’s like you were made for each other. You were already so wet for him, there’s a vulgar squelching sound coming from your groin.

After a few minutes of slow and shallow motions to prepare yourself, you slide all the way down again and wait. Within seconds, his strong hands are gripping your waist, and he stands up, holding you onto him. Your legs automatically wrap around him, and soon he’s holding you in midair, fucking up into you while his mouth devours yours.

He’s going so hard and so deep that you have tears in your eyes, your face scrunching up in pain. But it feels so good, so satisfying, to have the man you love touching the deepest parts of you. Your hands are in his hair, on his neck, your mouth open and accepting his tongue and saliva, your body jerking with his powerful thrusts.

“I love you,” you murmur after breaking the kiss. “I love you so much, Toji!”

One of his arms circles around your back, pulling you even closer, while his other hand moves to the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. The contrast between the soft, affectionate gesture and his cock roughly pounding between your thighs sends you over the edge. Your upper body collapses against his chest, your arms weakly clinging to his neck as you tremble through an orgasm. His hands are still gently holding you as he thrusts into you, finally shooting his seed into your core.

Afterwards, he carries you to the bathroom where he helps you shower, then the two of you climb into bed. Lying beside him in the dark, you look at his vague outline and say, “You won’t get tired of me after the contract ends, will you?”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? You’ll be the one kicking my old wrinkly ass to the curb in ten years!”

You sit up suddenly. “Never! I don’t care how old you are!”

He laughs again and pulls you into his arms. “I gotta tell you something,” he says in a strangely quiet voice. “A couple years ago I bought a little house a few miles outside of town. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s paid for with the money I’ve made as a trainer. I kept thinking I’d retire and move out there with Megumi, finally be a dad, you know? But it just never happened. Now though… I’m thinking a lot about that again.”

You feel tears stinging your eyes again, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, smiling. “That sounds like a dream!”

He leans over to kiss you, his lips hitting your nose in the darkness, and the two of you laugh. You can’t wait for the training to be finished, so your future can begin.

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