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#(unless it's already been done before. if so then my apologies!)
churipu · 4 months
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hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^
BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !
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featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).
note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!
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NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.
for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.
"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.
nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.
"i need to get this done, wait a moment."
that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"
"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."
you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."
at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."
you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.
arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.
the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.
he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).
and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.
the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.
he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.
he could finally sleep.
with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.
"y/n?"
upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"
nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.
the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."
nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."
like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!
CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.
god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.
"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.
first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.
but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.
it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.
"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.
his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."
choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.
"cho, say something."
choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."
for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).
but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.
"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."
okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.
he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."
being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.
"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."
megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."
megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.
poor boy just needed a break.
"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."
"...i do."
argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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august126 · 1 month
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Zhongli: The masseur
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✦ summary: Working a job that basically guaranteed no breaks unless it was an emergency was, understandably, overwhelming. Your body was aching and you were sure your joints would give in any day now. So when Ganyu suggested that you visit a massage parlor nearby, you immediately called to place an appointment.
✦ warnings: Vaginal Fingering,Rough Sex,Aphrodisiacs,Mating Press,Overstimulation, and Blindfolds
✦ notes:Be warned that this fic contains: Dubcon (Possibly noncon), consented touches which eventually turn into dubious consented touching and Thank you all so much,OMG 500 followers !!
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The masseur
     "Agh" Your back was so stiff— the muscle in your back was comparable to stone. After being hunched over your desk and being bombarded with work as a secretary for one of the higher-ranking managers in your company, you couldn’t help but daydream of a vacation and a break from your stressful lifestyle.
Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The sighs that come from you are uncontrollable. A vacation would have been the greatest opportunity you would receive by the end of the week; however, the prospect of of finishing all work for good sounded a bit more appealing to you.
Another thing to curse about…
As Keqing says, maybe if your other lacking coworkers could actually pick themselves up and do half the work you were doing, life would not be this difficult for you.
A loud ding rings throughout the train, alerting you to the next stop that is quickly incoming. You grip your leather bookbag, lifting it off the seat before fixing up your blouse. You tense suddenly. Another stiff pass causes your body to wince. “... Ow…” It's hard to ignore the tense and electrifying pain in your back but you do your best, absent-mindedly reaching your hand up for the balance rings hanging above you.
Regret quickly shoots through you when you feel your fingertips brush over a soft surface instead of the usual metal. You just touched someone's hand by accident! "My apologies" You quickly look down and lower your hand back down. A light heat spreads through your face. You don’t dare to look at the man’s face but when you do, suddenly the regret doubles in weight.
This man was handsome— tall with lovely amber eyes and auburn silky hair that trailed down to his waist. You felt yourself become dry in the mouth as he chuckled lightly. “It’s no problem miss” His voice was deep and rich, almost vibrating deep in your consciousness.
You couldn't help but smile nervously, you apologize again before you excuse yourself for the exit. Disbelief coursed through you, it was early in the morning and you bumped into someone, how embarrassing! As if the pain in your back wasn't hard enough already, you just had to embarrass yourself and give yourself a different kind of humiliation.
Stopping in front of the train doors, you silently grumbled at yourself for being so inattentive. Maybe you should get yourself another cup of coffee. Just as you made mental notes to keep track of for the rest of the day, from the corner of your eye, you saw that the tall man had walked over to you and stopped right on your side.
Oh. He was leaving at the same stop.
Well, it’s not as if no one else was leaving at this stop. It was merely a coincidence and this small embarrassing bout was going to become a long memory. And yet for some reason or another… you couldn’t shake off your nerves. 
     A satisfied moan escapes you as you stretch your back out onto an arch, popping your spine and your hips. Finally, the work needed was halfway done. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to crunch out the rest of the statistics by the end of the day simply because of your back completely dying on you. But finished work is finished work.
Someone walks up to your desk, a laugh easing from their throat when their eyes gaze upon your pitiful self. “You know, [name], there’s this very popular massage place nearby the office. It’s two buildings down from our usual restaurant place, why don’t you go check it out?” Ganyu asks, pouring herself more cups of coffee while offering you some. That piques your interest. How could you forget those existed? A massage sounded like heaven sent to earth for you at the moment, your aching back was practically keening at the idea of a massage.
You inquired, excited to hear more about the parlor. “Have you tried it yourself Ganyu? How are the prices?” Ganyu presses her hand onto her chin for a bit, her coffee wafting deliciously in the air. She hums, "I distinctly remember that the prices were pretty affordable. At least under 800 mora"
That sounded amazing to you. For the first time in a long while, time quickly passes by during work. As soon as your hours were done you contacted the parlor to place an appointment. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall when you suddenly hear a monotone voice speak from the other side of the phone.
“Hello, this is the Wangsheng spa parlor” Swallowing your nerves, you also apply your service voice when you respond. “Hello good morning. I’m calling to inquire about your available time and available services?”
“We’re available today and the whole week onwards”
It was almost a dream come true to hear such news, you could hardly stop the bubbling excitement from your stomach. The squeal in you is quickly hushed to silence, you can barely keep your excitement to yourself as you inquire further about their services. Everything the receptionist lists after the initial introduction seemed normal, up until they mention something called—
“Special treatment? What’s that?” It caught you by surprise since you’ve never heard anything like it.
It seems like even their workers were having a hard time working with this new service because the receptionist sighs a bit in thought. “It’s.. an experimental sort of service where you are assigned a personal masseuse. They will provide any service that is included in our packages. However, compared to the other services, this package is a little over twice the price of normal packages” That definitely sounds extremely expensive and confusing. What makes this bundle deserving of such a price?
“How long will this package last for?” The receptionist takes a second before they get back to you, seemingly tending to other clients while you’re on the phone. He responds, “This package will last you five days” WHAT? Five days!? You were expecting an answer that rests between an hour and five, not an hour and five days! As you scramble for an answer, you trip over your own words unknowingly, “I-I only have to pay once for the entire service of five days?” 
 “That’s right ma’am” And that immediately solidifies your decision. “I would like to book an appointment”
     The excitement from a few days ago is fully powering your body right now. After all that work and stress, you couldn’t wait to finally lay down and be taken care of. You double-check your bag for your essentials. Wallet, phone, a handkerchief… yeah, that was basically everything. Seeing as you’re about to get special treatment, you refrain from wearing your usual makeup. 
Upon arriving at the building, your first impression is solidified. The parlor from the outside looks very luxurious and yet warm-looking. Well, with those kinds of prices any normal person would assume that the parlor could at least afford to spruce up the place. You shake your head. You’re not here to think about minute details, you were here to get a massage— maybe even a manicure and a facial.
You walk up to the parlor’s door, pushing onto the glass doors and inhaling the lovely aroma of the spa. It seems you weren’t the only person coveting this sort of leisure. You catch sight of many customers presumably waiting for a turn. By many, you meant that six ladies were waiting in the lounge area. Your stomach drops in your gut. Should you have come much earlier than eleven? How long will you be able to keep up your thinning comfort?
Walking up to the receptionist area, you greet the man who seems to have his attention elsewhere. You speak out, “Hello, I’m here for an appointment?”
The receptionist lifted his gaze from his phone, his expression suddenly brightening up as if he recognized you. After exchanging pleasantries and mentioning your appointment time, he pulls out a notebook from the desk drawer. "Right Miss.." He muttered. After opening up a page he slides the notebook over to you. Its pages were filled with printed words with a separate waiver laid on top of the notebook.
"Because this package is still in its experimental stage, we'd like for you to acknowledge that discomfort and unexpected outcomes may possibly occur. By signing this contract you are acknowledging that we are not liable for any pain or extraordinary services you may redeem" You didn't know that this package was so experimental that it needed a contract. But you've already gotten this far— there's no point in backing out now.
Taking the pen that was handed to you, you scribble down your name and your signature, handing back the notebook and the waiver after. The receptionist takes a glance over the notebook before tucking it away. They turn your attention to the hallway next to the receptionist’s desk. "Miss, please follow me"
"Um, am I not supposed to wait for my turn?" You nervously peek out of the corner of your eye and onto the other guests waiting. It seems that the other ladies have been waiting a while but the receptionist waves your concerns away.
"There's no need. The other clients availed a different package" Though it was not completely comforting, there truly is no room for arguments when you don’t entirely understand this whole package system they employed.
You were led to the higher floor of the building. The walls were painted a deep red, almost velvet. It gave the place a curious kind of atmosphere, not to mention the incense smoke wafting that was through the airways. Simply put, the parlor knew how to set the mood properly. The only illumination came from the ambient lighting placed deliberately around.
It takes no longer than a minute before you’re situated in your own private room.
The lighting in the room gave off a warm yellow, dimmed down just enough that you could see the silhouettes of the items in the room: oils were placed neatly on a table by the side, a massage table was placed in the middle of the room, and there was even a soft scent in the air.
The receptionist had told you to change your clothes into a bathrobe before he left. The bathrobe he was referring to was lying on top of the massage table, carefully prepared with a towel next to it. A sense of anticipation settles inside your gut as you sit on the massage table. Changing clothes was easy enough. You folded your shirt and your pants and then placed them on a table nearby right under your purse.
You entertain yourself with your phone for a while, double-checking for messages from your coworkers just in case they need anything from you. And they did, you could already see a couple emails asking what to do for certain tasks. A knock from the door interrupts your work-mode attitude, almost startling you. “Come- Oh oops, I’m decent” You call out as instructed by the receptionist earlier.
The doorknob clicks and it slowly opens. The saliva in your mouth dries out when the same man from the train entered the room. Handsome, tall with amber eyes and auburn silky hair. You notice that his uniform is a different color from the receptionists’. While the receptionist had a red theme this masseur was clad in a familiar brown and gold. You're nervous, even more when he flashes you a smile that could not be properly described as any other thing than elegant.
“Greetings, miss” His familiar voice was as deep as you remembered. Huh no wonder— His voice was befitting on a profession like this one.
You greet him the same, trying not to seem as nervous as you truly were. The chances of you seeing the man from train again on the same week was slim to none. You're quite lucky, aren't you? You couldn’t believe that the masseur you had for the day was the same person you had embarrassed yourself in front of. It definitely didn’t make you nervous, not at all haha.
The masseur locks the door behind him close. Now standing parallel to you, he bows his head as a gesture. “My name is Zhongli, I will be your masseur for the entirety of this service”
Zhongli gestures to the massaging table with his hand, smiling courteously. “We will start when you’re ready. Would you like some refreshments before we begin? Tea? Coffee? Tea is a very popular option here in the parlor. Our tea has been personally selected from specific locations for the best quality” He could speak on and on, forever even, and you wouldn't be mad at it. “Then I’d like some tea please” You answer, wanting to ease some of the anxious nerves you had built up. The nervous little smile you wore was hard to miss though Zhongli only nods before excusing himself to grab refreshments.
You curse yourself almost immediately when you are left alone. That man from the train is your masseur!? Could you change masseurs? Is there time enough left for you to back out of the service and run away as quickly as you can?
He comes back in a bit, holding a tray of tea like you requested. “Today we have a special batch of osmanthus tea. This brand is locally produced in the northern town of Qingce, and this batch was specifically bred for a calmer fragrance compared to its usual overpowering counterpart. We hope it is to your satisfaction” The tray is set on the table near your reach. You thank the masseur for his effort.
He moves to the table full of body oil, lighting up an incense stick before setting it aside to burn out. You nervously pick up your cup and inhale the unfamiliar smell emanating from the liquid— it was a different kind of tea compared to what you’re used to but it was not any less pleasant.
The hot tea warmed your tense muscles, settling pleasantly in your stomach. The empty cup is placed back onto the tray and you’re now ready for the service. To say that you were nervous about being naked in front of a man was an understatement, you had no idea that these were going to be the circumstances you were about to be under. However, you understand that complaining about such details went completely against all the prayers you've sent to the archons.
"I'm ready" It comes out really pathetic. It seems you'd only need to bite the bullet and accept it.
Zhongli had already picked up a specific bottle of oil to use. Upon seeing you eagerly gazing at him, he settles a hand on your shoulder, his thumb hooking around the collar of your bathrobe. As if he was confused he asks, “Miss, shall I remove this for you?”
Heat immediately invades every inch of your body. You stammer an answer out of you that is almost indiscernible because of how soft it had come out. The masseur probably heard a ‘no need’ from all of that and he retracted his hand. Hesitantly, you undo the straps you tied around the bathrobe. The collar dips down from your shoulder, exposing your top half.
You then slipped the bathrobe off, carefully folding the thick garment before maneuvering it over your hips. The colder air of the room nips at your exposed skin yet the firm gaze of Zhongli sends harsher pulsing sensations down your entirety.
"Please" Your masseur gestures for you to lay on the table and you obey, your limbs move awkwardly when you lower yourself onto your front, positioning your face to fit into the hole of the table. The floor is all you can see and you can barely hold onto the bathrobe covering your lower half in place.
Relax…
A shiver runs up your spine when you finally feel his fingertips graze your skin. The touch was unexpected and yet all you could focus on was the fact that his fingers were warm. Finally, the massage was about to begin. You attempt to keep yourself preoccupied with other things to focus on, like the fingers running up and down your skin.
This warmth suddenly latches onto the bathrobe over your hips and you seize up. You aren't able to turn your face to look at Zhongli before he abruptly moves. "Oh, it seems you've forgotten to discard these. No matter, I will do it for you"
Before a word could leave your mouth, the open air suddenly caressed the skin of your hips and below. That enough would have made your heart stop, yet Zhongli proved to be unpredictable when the warm touch of his hand started sliding up your hips. Hooking his middle finger along the waistbands of your panties, he slowly drags the piece of clothing down your legs. A gasp is ripped from your throat once you realize what just happened, slightly trembling as the air meets your most intimate area.
"Zh-Zhon—"   "Now this" The man speaks, probably not hearing the pathetic squeaks from your mouth while he turns his attention to the clip of your bra. It doesn't take long before the itchy confines of your chest are pulled away with Zhongli's assistance.
Your mind races in confusion. Was this how all massages went?? You couldn't remember the last time you had a professional massage but.. do you ever remember feeling this exposed before? You remain silent, body slightly trembling and stress increasing.
Relax...
You weren't given the privilege to linger on the thought any longer before you felt the cold traces of oil spill on your back. Arching in surprise, a squeak leaves you when his large palms press into your back, the size almost covering the width of your back completely had they been angled perfectly. “Mmph..!” Air is lightly squeezed out of you when the palms press upward towards your shoulder blades, his thumbs applying more pressure into the crevices of your bones.
“Ah…” The beginning of the massage was surprisingly forceful, the movement easing through your tense muscles as quickly as it could. The area left behind by the oil and the pressure was warm, you could tell that your blood circulation was increasing due to how red-tinted your shoulder was becoming. The strength of the massage was strategically becoming more gentle the longer the massage went on, going easier on spots he understood were too tender.
Zhongli’s hands drift lower to your hips, applying pressure to your hip bones and then back up your spine. This particular area seems to be sensitive— proven by the soft noises that are squeezed out of you with each pass. Noises came out of you in soft hums like whimpers and sighs of satisfaction, you didn't know that your hips were suffering just like your back was. This massage was amazing.
The massage, despite the odd circumstances of the beginning, was already taking great effect on you. The aching spots that have been begging for attention on your back were finally being tended to, your cold arms were massaged with strong but firm hands, and the top of your hips were properly thumbed down. Your spine was still suffering from tingles, but at least it was of the pleasurable kind. You groan embarrassingly loud after one certain press and you pray Zhongli moved on from it.
His palms pressed down into your hips, going lower and lower until he held your ass in each palm. He presses hard against the fat, successfully pushing onto the muscle that ached under it. A grateful sigh escapes you. Zhongli took his time kneading through the skin, doing his best to target certain spots— which took a few minutes.
You were extremely close to dozing off when Zhongli returned his attention to your shoulder blades. The pain also came with pleasure, and with each calculated press of his strength, the uncomfortable knots in your back unwind. Each press of his hands was rewarded with a soft squeak or moan of appreciation from you. Every once in a while you would hiss in pain when a spot was overdone. Zhongli returned the massage back up your back for a while, circling your spine and around your shoulders to avoid overworking the rest.
"[name]?" You could barely hear his voice through the thick fog of your mind. Zhongli was calling out to you during your sleepy daze, barely coherent due to your lacking presence of mind. Thankfully, he still hears a hum from you as a response. "Could you lift up your leg for a moment? We will be working on your calf" You gave him permission to move your leg as he needed but by then you were already slumbering in content.
The massage was almost done and you were finally out cold. The incense stick continues to burn, and it seems its effects are finally taking an effect on you. Zhongli lifts his eyes to your hips, seeing the area between your legs glisten with need. He hums, the incense he prepared was too slow-acting. He made sure to take note of using another kind next time.
Slowly, you awoke from a nap. Everything was heavy. It felt as if your muscles had turned into weights, at the same time it felt soft and tender. And all this was because of the massage.
Wait... the massage! As quickly as you could, with heavy emphasis on could, you lifted yourself from the table and looked around the dim room to look for your masseur. You find that the room is empty and tidied up.
You check your phone and see that you've been asleep for three hours. It surprises you to see that you've been sleeping for as long as you did. Luckily it was still quite a long way before the parlor closed.
For some reason your body was extremely sensitive, your nipples especially so. When you try to put your underwear on, you're mortified when you realize that... the area between your legs is dripping wet. "He didn't see me like this did he..?" You quickly put it on, doing your best to ignore the way the wet cloth clung on. You don't think you could put your bra on, your breasts were simply too sensitive for them to be clinging on for now. Hopefully the fact that you're braless is not evident to other people.
After packing everything you own you leave the room, carefully walking down the stairs to the reception room. You felt so incredibly tired and yet satisfied at the same time, you could already tell that sleep later was about to be heavenly.
The receptionist greets you when you pass by and you quickly return the gesture. Truthfully, you just wanted to get home as quickly as you could and sleep. You weren't in the particular mood to be chatting or exchanging pleasantries. Not to mention, the fact that you were bare breasted under your shirt was making you incredibly conscious.
"Come back tomorrow, miss! You have four days left" The receptionist calls out before you ran out of the building.
...
     The next day couldn't come any slower. When you woke up every inch of your body was basically glowing. The aftermath of the massage and the bath you took right after left you completely relaxed. Muscles relaxed, ass tender, calves soft like mochi, and feet pinching in pain after the knots inside were untied. You open your phone to check the messages your coworkers left the day before that you couldn't tend to immediately.
Right away you see coworkers asking how to handle the tasks— that they were responsible for in the first place— and why there was so much to do. You could already feel the harsh physical memory of stress appearing despite your previous glow. Scrolling past these messages, it seems that Ganyu and Keqing had messaged you after your coworkers had made up a fuss.
'Just ignore any messages from the others, you're on official vacation'
'Enjoy your time [name]! Let's go eat out this week' Their words make you smile. You truly appreciating your friends for looking out for you.
You close your phone after responding to them. To your clueless coworkers, you leave them to suffer the consequences of their incompetence. The time indicates that your next session for a massage is around two hours from now. Was it too soon to be getting another massage? Well, you could always ask for a facial as it is a part of the bundle you availed. And so, you get ready for another day of relaxation.
The receptionist greets you once again when you step into the parlor. You're embarrassed for being so discourteous yesterday but fortunately enough he glosses over it. You approach the desk, smiling comfortably. "Could I ask for a facial today?" The request is written down in a record notebook. "Of course. Will you also be availing another massage session?" Another one? Well, why not right? You did enjoy feeling like putty for a while, you might as well enjoy this while you can. 
"Sure, when will it be beginning?" You ask, removing the sling of your bag from your shoulder to prepare to settle in the waiting room. However, the receptionist points over to the hallway before you can sit down. He's enthusiastic when he says,
"Right now"
You're now back in the same room as the previous appointment with your bag tucked away and your clothes folded to the side. Despite your main request for a facial you were still asked to strip down and wear their bathrobe. The facial itself was done by another person who specialized in the process and now you were simply waiting for your masseur. The facial itself was great, the surface of your skin was as soft as powder.
The wait was a bit daunting— you still couldn't get over who your masseur was, or the fact that he had already seen you naked. Right, you should probably ask why you were meant to be naked instead of semi-clothed, was it a special thing they did? 
A knock jolts you out of your little train of thought. It must be Zhongli so you call him in. The brunette peeks through the door, closing it behind him after you greet him. The dim lights barely illuminate the golden patterns of his uniform. "Good day to you again miss, shall we do the same massage as yesterday or will you try a new kind today?" You weren't aware that there were other kinds of massages. If there were other kinds then it wouldn't hurt to try them. You voice these ideas to Zhongli and he understood.
The masseur walks over to the table full of items, picking through bottles of oil and sticks of incense while you kept yourself occupied with your bathrobe, untying the garment before hesitantly placing it aside. Your breasts immediately react to the air but you pay little attention as you rush to remove the remaining garment around your hips. You hid those items before positioning yourself back on the massage table. The dim lights were probably enough to give you some amount of dignity. The questions in your head are pushed to the side, overwhelmed by the want to relax and be stress-free.
The fewer questions the better, as Ganyu says.
Before long the smell of an incense stick wafts through the air and you relax. Footsteps approach your side and a bottle is placed on a surface next to you. A shiver runs up your spine when the cold contact of the oil meets your skin. It is quickly spread through the entirety of your back, quickly covering the surface area. The massage began as it did before.
A few minutes into it Zhongli had successfully wrung your back out into putty—your body was tingling with satisfaction. It looked as if your mind was quickly following suit. You involuntarily shivered when his palms pressed against a sensitive area on your waist. There was a pause to the massage but there were many reasons to believe that you were too far gone to realize how pathetic your moan had come out. Zhongli slowly circled his thumbs on your waist, hesitating when your moans came out as if you were crying.
"Uhn..!" Followed by a soft gasp.
Zhongli detaches his hands from your back and attempts to wake you. "Miss..?" You groan, barely waking up to the sound of his deep voice. He repeats his request, "Could you please sit up for me?"
Sit up? Like this?
You could barely keep your back straight, barely keep awake in fact, but now you're sitting with your legs crossed on the massage table like you were asked to. The masseur approaches close behind you, bringing his hands up and down your waist whilst thumbing certain areas that leave you groaning. They wander farther up until they rest right under your breasts. You're confused, is this something new like he said earlier? Which method was this?
His palms lay against your peaks, your perked tits pressed right against the middle of his hands. They're so sensitive, each moment of contact was doing alarming things to your body, especially your lower half. Now you're made aware of what's happening down below.
Between your thighs feels like a sloppy mess, sticking to the table and making a mess everywhere. Strikes of pleasurable bolts continue to paralyze your limbs with each pressure your tits endure.
His fingers clench and unclench to massage the fat of your chest, his fingertips running from end to end until they find themselves wrapped around your nipples. "Ahh" You sigh, thighs clenching at the confusing connection your breasts had to your lower nerves. Any time he pinched with light pressure your pussy would hurt a bit too.
Warmth began to moisten up the silken sheets under you but you couldn't say a word as the massage to your tits halted. His hands pulled away. Your consciousness spirals as the scent of the oil, the fumes of the lit incense, and the satisfying massage all went straight to your head.
You felt tranquil, calm, and... bothered. 
You were then instructed to lay back on the bed. This time though, you were supposed to lay on your back. And you did without much thought into it. Zhongli takes a towel from the side, folding the cloth before he lays it over your eyes. It was a bit damp, acting like an eye mask due to the water it was soaked in.
"Here, could you help me raise your knees to your chest? I need to access the back of your thighs properly" Hands shaking, not a question nor doubt passed your mind as you held the back of your knees, pulling them up as per instruction by Zhongli. Your knees were pushed further up onto your chest with the guidance of his hands. The massage kept your body light and soft, it was easy to get to the position comfortably.
Jolts rocked your body as cold oil dripped upon your thighs, quickly warmed by your masseur's palms massaging up and down your thighs. You sigh when the oil begins to warm up from the friction. Pressure pressed upon your soft skin, the man's thumb pinched the fat before lowering his touch down to your ass.
The area down there was glistening under the illumination, anytime Zhongli circled his thumb on your thighs, he was rewarded with an even better sight.
His thumbs press just outside the slit of your pussy, close but not quite close enough to touch your dripping cunt. The sudden contact made you jump again, unexpecting. Your pussy was yearning, begging for something—your breasts were the same, they were already missing the palms that held them earlier.
For some reason or another, the temptation to ask him to massage down there too was barely hanging off your tongue. Though you needn't utter a word as Zhongli's thumb suddenly travels up to your clit, his pads and its pressure sending a bolt of pleasure up your entire body. "!!!" You gasp, suddenly gushing all over Zhongli’s hand due to the light pressure. No protest leaves your panting lips when the finger returns to give your clit attention. The consistent caress of your pussy continues to drive you over the edge.
Your lower half throbs and cramps in pain, almost as if you needed to be massaged there too. The sudden turn of events does not register in your brain, but the need to be satisfied was the only thing you could and wanted to think about.
"Miss, I'll be putting something.. here so that I'll be able to massage you inside, will that be okay?" Zhongli drags his thumb from your clit to your twitching hole, now teasing the entrance with slow passionate pressure.
Mind numb, you mumble something close to a sound of confirmation. Even though you weren't exactly sure what you agreed upon, anything to satiate the growing pains inside you was welcome.
Zhongli detached his hand from your lower half and you whimper, the hold you had on your legs tighten. The sounds of rustling clothes echo through your drumming ears. Some things were being set aside, it sounded like it was made from cloth because of its silent thud. Metal click together. The massage table creaks under a sudden weight.
Finally you feel something press up against your pussy. It was hot, just like the oil whenever Zhongli rubbed it against your skin. When it was pushed up and down against your cunt you could feel hard lines on it, it glided easily against your wet self, almost as if it was oiled up as well. When it snagged against your clit, it sent rushes of pleasure into you, only accentuating the need of your entrance.
The thing is positioned over your hole, its tip evidently pressing against the rim. You could feel Zhongli's thumb return over your clit.
"Haahnmh..!?" The pressure is slow and slightly painful as it pushes into you. You're confused, afraid almost, but you're too tired and drowsy to ask any questions. Something pops inside you, your pussy hole stretching wide to a size you never felt before. The sweet caressing upon your clit does not let up, and the entrance of whatever this hard object was overwhelming you.. too much..!! Your tongue lolls out of your lips, your mouth widening in a silent scream as the hard object continues to grow in girth and length inside you.
Tears well up your eyes, your arms tensing up around your legs as the painful stretch descends down into a pulsing pleasure inside you. Zhongli's name babbles out your mouth, your hand trembling as it attempts to look for the man responsible for the massage. You are stopped in your tracks when the object stills inside you for a few moments, allowing you to feel every inch of it. Your searching hand returns to clutch your leg, mouth gasping wide.
Thick, hard, and pulsing hot. Its exterior veiny, pressing against your crevices and needy spots. It was as if you were impaled on an oddly shaped rock and every once in a while, it pulsed.
It felt like forever since anything had moved, Zhongli hadn't even uttered a single word either. At least, you think he hasn’t, the slight ringing in your hypersensitive ears didn’t allow you to hear much while you gasped for air. What was this.. It was big, too big! What in Archons' name was this!?
You whimper when it pulls back out, stopping only midway. Suddenly, it pulls back and is roughly shoved back inside. The item is now an inch deeper inside you, thicker, and ever more daunting. Tears brim your eyes, becoming absorbed into the towel over you. Your muscles tense up in shock and pleasure, your pussy absolutely gushing around the length and your legs springing out in surprise. A single hand catches the back of your thighs, pinning them back down to your chest.
It was like a warning. A warning to keep still and behave.
"Dear, try to relax and enjoy the massage" None of the words reached your brain. Your pussy did all of the thinking for you. The pain was quickly mixing with the pleasure.
It began to move softly inside you, the wide base of the item is rubbing against the fat of your ass, its hanging appendage pressing against your other hole. Grinding against you, Zhongli began to shallowly thrust into you, not attempting to pull the thing back out. He is rewarded with quiet squeals of pleasure. His tip was pressing against the soft wall of your pussy and each time he grinds or delivers shallow thrusts, it digs in harder.
Zhongli hisses when he feels your tight walls tense up, leaving him stunned when he realized you had cummed over some grinding.
His rock-solid patience was eroding quite quickly. The fact that your cute body was trembling and your pussy was gushing all over him, he could hold back no longer. "Ngghk!" You choke when his dick pulls itself forcefully out of you, only leaving the tip inside. With his grip on your back knees tightening, he braces himself before he shoves everything back in one go.
An ear-piercing squeal is choked up immediately. The hard cock inside you was harshly pulled back and shoved back inside, its angle moving to reach a spot more deserving of your pleasured moans. The thick thing was moving inside you erratically, the apex of it pressing harshly against the deepest part of you.
“ Zhong-Zhongli..!! ” The gentle pressure against your clit returns and you swear you could hear the call of the heavens, ironically enough. You’ve never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming! You feel your mind slipping deeper and deeper into a lustful daze, eventually hitting a high that only made you want more and more.
“NGHAAH-!” Your muscles tense up once more, your pussy gushing with vigor. The massage does not stop, it doesn’t even falter when you don’t feel yourself stop cumming. The grip on your skin stings but the constant stretch of your pussy walls and abuse of a spot leaves you more to desire than dislike. The climax gushes everywhere, coating both of your skin and the table under you. The consistent slapping of your skin turns sloppy and wet.
Your thighs and the sheets under you are suddenly drenched further by another climax from you. Through the wet plapping, you hear a distinct sound that sounds like deep sighs. These deep sighs eventually turn to light grunting the longer the massage went. The flicks on your clit turn into vibration and circulation, sending you into a higher form of existence.
The oiled parts of your body rub into each other, your tits specifically, making this a much more heavenly experience.  The strokes steadily slow down, turning from fast and aimed thrusts to deep and purposeful.
Throwing your head back, a scream is ripped out of you when Zhongli sends you one last deep thrust. The tip spurts something into you for a second before this object pulls back, its tip almost completely exiting from you before it is again driven deep into you. Something warm and filling squeezes into the cracks between the object and your pussy walls, filling you deep inside with a warm substance. The thick mixture of your cum and the solution spurts out of your hole harshly.
Your muscles completely melt into the sheets. Your tired legs aching as Zhongli loosens his grip on the back of our knees. Suddenly, the discomfort of your hips make itself known, throbbing as your legs are gently placed back onto the massage table. The exhaustion from the massage catches up to you quickly and you almost drift off. The adrenaline from the massage keeps you awake and sensitive though, each passing breath sent bolts back down to your pussy again.
However, you weren't aware that the object inside you was still, in fact, inside. Squeaks escape you when the thing thrusts inside you twice, one shallow and one harsher before it slowly pulls out of you completely. Your pussy hole twitches, leaking the warm substance that was squirted inside you. Zhongli's deep hum resonates inside you.
A question lingers in your tongue but it is quickly choked up as thick fingers drag up your pussy, most likely getting his fingertips wet. Two fingertips swirl and flick your clit again.
You panic, “M-Mister Zhongli, why don’t we take a b-break-!?” The two fingers are replaced with his thumb whilst another pressure finds itself tugging and lightly pinching at your breasts again.
Two hard fingers plunge themselves back into your pussy, curling and thrusting to its hilt. Your voice is replaced by gasping moans, thighs trembling harshly as the vicious attack on your sensitive pussy resumes. The liquid that was inside you spills out onto his palm and back around your clit, his thumb flicking the sloppy mixture onto it. You beg for him to wait, squealing with your thighs wrapped around his arm when he brings you into another climax. 
It takes no second longer for your pussy to clench around his finger and gush all over him. Muscles tense and your voice breaks at the mind-blowing orgasm that was ripped out of you after your first one not long ago.
You wail and sob when the assault on your pussy does not stop, only prolonging your orgasm by plunging his fingers in more. The bed dips as Zhongli's knees find a new angle, his cock now once again at attention for more. His fingers curl one last time before it is ripped out, only being replaced by a familiar weight.
Oxygen finds it heavy to enter your body because of how greedy you take a lot of it in and out. You can only squeal as Zhongli presses this thing back into your cunt.
It was late afternoon when you had woken up from the session. Again, you woke up alone and you were wobbling as if you were boneless. Unexpectedly, your hair was done in a respectable hairstyle and your clothes were placed much closer so you could reach them. A note sits on top of your clothes.
"The massage was stopped halfway today, please call this number so we may continue outside of work hours" Behind the beautifully written note is a number.
You did your best to dress yourself up but your tender body made it really difficult to do so. Standing up was especially difficult. Whenever you push yourself up with your arms they tremble and when you sit up your spine curls like a noodle.
Despite this, you stood up and walked out of the room.
However, you couldn't even take two steps forward before you hear something behind you.
"Miss" An ever-familiar deep voice calls out to you and you pause, feeling your face burn up in heat again. A familiar sensation makes itself known throughout your body. You hesitate, your heart racing. But eventually you turn to the masseur, smiling nervously when his amber eyes meet yours. "Y-Yes?" 
His usual expression remains, unmoving like stone. The smile on his face is so casual, you would not have guessed what he was doing a couple hours prior. Zhongli says, "Be careful on your way down. It is not advisable for clients to be up and about carrying things. You may drop them" The note you were clutching between your fingers is gripped onto tighter. 
Before you could take a step out of the parlor, the receptionist calls out once again.
"Come back soon miss! Your package lasts for three more days"
950 notes · View notes
nwndrlndn · 10 months
Text
Hate This And I'll Love You
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pairing : suitless!darth vader x f!reader | wc : 6k | 18+MINORS DNI
summary : you weren't sure what was worse, to be vader's love or not to be. at least when he didnt love you, you felt safe
warnings : unsexy choking, fear and intimidation, unhealthy and controlling relationships, attention seeking vader, mentions of death, developing stockholm syndrome, dub-con, dry humping, public sex, light praise, public sex, mentioned size difference
a/n : this is a part two to unintended. i honestly didnt think of a part two when i wrote the first one, but now i am planning a third part. i also somehow squeezed in two smut scenes as an apology for not writing for most of the week.
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Darth Vader sits on his throne in his Imperial Fortress on Mustafar, handling the tasks left to him by Emperor Palpatine. In the weeks that have passed, he doesn't let you out of his chambers unless it is to be brought to him. But there you stay, in a Nabooian outfit he picked for you this morning, aimlessly picking at the fruit he had sent to you. The chair you sit on was across from a a dark velvet chaise, softened by even darker pillows and a blanket thrown over the edge. The lights gave the room a slight blue hue and you let out a sigh, eating quietly, but happy to have a moment without Vader’s presence or your panicked handmaidens.
An Imperial droid enters the chamber, its head rotating to look at you from every angle before presenting you with a red box with a bow. "Lord Vader has a gift for your ongoing... courtship, as he puts it."
“Thank you.” You say softly, taking the box with a great hesitation. It has a bit of weight to it and you set it on your lap, watching as the droid retreats, disappearing behind the door. A few seconds pass before Vader appears, looking tired, in his black robes with his cape draped over his shoulder.
"Open it." he says in a slightly raspy whisper. His voice sounds strained, as if he's just been screaming. Vader’s glowing yellow eyes focused on your fingers as you carefully undo the bow. Inside is a small, intricately carved golden heart shaped necklace with a ruby in the middle. Vader’s steps are rushed as he walks to stand behind you. His nimble fingers take the necklace from your hands, seeing it fit to fasten it to your neck with a single movement of his glove, his lips parted ever so slightly.
“Thank you, my lord.” You murmur, before shutting the box again and setting it aside to return to the remaining meiloorun fruit in front of you. There was little enjoyment left in the sweet fruit now that he was here.
"I should like to spend the evening with you." He says, as though the matter is already settled, his face impassive, though his gaze is hard and he doesn't look away. "Be prepared. A dress will be sent to you, and hair and makeup will be done in the traditional Nabooian style."
“Yes, my lord.” He watches as you push the remaining fruit around the plate listlessly.
"I should like to see you dressed appropriately, but also... sensual." He says calmly, his gloved hand slowly moving to the chain around your neck, gently taking the pendant in his hand.
“Yes, my lord.” You repeat, and Vader sighs.
"Do you love me?" Vader asks, his tone flat, and his words carrying a dangerous weight to his voice.
“Love is a strong word.” You murmur. As you turn to look at him, you look away from him again, unable to look at him for longer than a few seconds at a time.
Vader looks at you intently, and your heart beats harder at his gaze and a blush begins to cover your face. He takes slow, deliberate steps to sit at your chaise. You watch as he settles in, and slowly begins to unbuttons the black robes he wears, exposing the skin over his rib cage. The muscles below it ripple with even slight movements, and despite his face never changing, it is clear to you that he is not happy when you don't look at him.
You stay still, eyes dropping to stare at the ground between both of you. And Vader watches you, then continues to remove his robes and sits in front of you in nothing but his black briefs and his boots, slowly untying the knot that keeps his hair out of his face. His gaze is cold and intense on you still.
"Look at me, look at me, look at me." he whispers sternly, his words dripping with command.
Slowly, you look up, holding the sides of your dress so your hands wont shake. You watch as he uses the force to move aside the small table holding your fruit so there will be nothing between you. After allowing you to gaze at him for a long moment, his breathing is heavy and fast. His face is still hard, with little change to the expression, but the eyes are on fire.
"I should like you to stand," he whispers, the words making his chest expand with each syllable. "Come here."
Vader’s body is tense like a spring coiled to burst. As you walk towards him he begins unbuckling his belt, as if to remove it, or perhaps something else. Once you stand before him, you remain completely still. It was like he was a tiger and you were his prey, but its not like you could run, even if you wanted to
Vader finishes unbuckling the belt, and sets it and his gloves down on the ground beneath the chaise. He gently takes your hand and lays it on his chest, the muscles beneath rippling and the bare skin hot and damp from his body heat.
“My lord, what are you-” You start start but he cuts you off with a whisper. 
"Shh." His breath is hot against your ear and his voice is low as he continues, his body tense with suppressed desire. "Touch me." Vader guides your hand across his chest, over the muscles rippling beneath the surface, over the soft skin around his neck, his Adam's apple, and down his stomach. His flesh is hot to the touch, his breath becoming heavier.
The longer it goes on, the more an uneasy calm settles over you and a desperation hits him. Vader seems to lose his control a little, his mind in a haze of lust. He looks up at you and his face starts to become contorted. He sits up then presses his head against yours and breathes heavily, his free hand wrapping around your neck.
"Do you love me?" He whispers hoarsely.
The seconds tick by as you try to think of how to word it. The constant need to appease him and his turbulent emotions, this necks snapped for staring at you for too long, and the fading face of your love in your memory. “I fear you.” You whisper quietly. Vader breathes heavily for a moment, his grip on your neck tightening, his free hand slipping beneath your dress.
"Then fear me more." He whispers before roughly grabbing you and pulling you towards him. His face is flushed red and he bites back a groan as he does so. A surge of desire washes over him as you gasp out. Once your free hand reaches up to scratch at the hand that choking you, Vader's hand moves to cup your chin, and he looks up at you, panting, the lust in his eyes gone now, replaced with anger. His face is contorted in rage as your hands lash out at him.
"Fear is what makes you worthy of my love." He whispers through gritted teeth, you can feel him using the force to tighten an invisible hand around your neck before his other hand moves from holding yours to his chest down to your thighs, his hand cupping them.
“Please.” You gasp, breathlessly and afraid.
"Please what, love?" Vader says mockingly, his voice dropping an octave. "Please as in, you beg for your life? I will take it from you as easily as I take your breath away. Do not beg for mercy from me, love."
You shut your eyes and a tear rushes from your eye as his grip on your throat through the force gets stronger, before you decide to give up and stop fighting or begging. A new low for hope, you think to yourself.
"Open your eyes." Vader commands, his voice still low and dangerous as his hand slides a little further up your thighs. "Do not think you get to give up." You slowly open your eyes, hoping this will end soon. Your vision is getting a bit fuzzy and you can hear a ringing in your ears. "Good girl." Vader's voice softens as he looks down at you once again, his hands now on your thighs instead of your neck, squeezing them as he lets go of his force grip on your throat.
"I should like you to get on your knees." You choke and sputter for air and Vader watches silently. His eyes focused on how the dark fabric of your gown pools over his forearms and the softness of your thighs as he touches them. As he continues to kneed and rub the soft skin of your legs, he subconsciously moves forward, almost missing your words as you speak.
“I need help, my lord” You rasp out, still recovering from his choking. “The dress makes it hard to do so.” This seems to calm Vader somewhat, and he chuckles quietly, before slowly and deliberately helping you down to your knees in front of him, and leaning over you, his lips slightly parted. His voice is a whisper at your ear, his words dripping with lust and passion.
"Beg for me."
“What do i beg for, my lord?”
"Beg that I love you, that I want you. Beg that I will never tire of you." His breath is on your skin, his fingers running through your hair as he tilts your head up to his. His gaze is all-knowing and all-seeing, and the hunger in his eyes is clear to see.
Every part of you screams how you don’t want any of that, how want nothing of everything he has given you, but you don’t have a choice. As you start to speak, your voice shakes. “My lord, please-”
Vader's fingers run through your hair as he moves closer to you, placing a finger against your lips and shutting it for you. His touch is almost electric to you, your fear giving way to something else that fills you, and it takes everything in you not to push yourself against him. "Try again." He says, his voice a growl.
“Please, my lord. I only ask for your love.” You start again, starting to tear up and the words burn at your throat. “Please.... I want to be the one you want most, the one you need, the one you cannot be without.”
"Good girl." He says quietly, running a gloved hand over your cheek. A flush starts to creep across his face, and he touches your chin and turns your head to face him once more. His breath is hot on your face as he looks directly at you.
"Tell me you love me again." He whispers.
Even though you know its a lie, you still say it. “I love you, my lord.”
"Again, my love." He says, his finger going to cover your mouth. You nod quickly, trying to not let the tears show, your breathing becoming ragged. "Again." His voice is stern now, as if he is commanding you to repeat it as a drill sergeant would command his troops to push-ups.
“I love you, my lord”
"Good girl." Vader whispers, his voice still stern. His gloved hand moves to your dress as he pulls you towards him. Your mind screams at you to turn away, but the force of his desire is overwhelming as he begins to slowly unbutton your dress, his breath harsh at your neck. "Tell me again." He whispers.
“I love you, my lord.”
"Again." Vader whispers, his head starting to tilt back as he loses control of his breathing. His hand slides across the edge of your dress as he looks to the buttons and begins to unbutton it, letting his hunger and need be heard in his voice and his eyes.
“I love you, my lord.” And you finally crack, a fast tear running down the side of your face. Vader pulls you towards him, as the dress falls off your shoulders and his hand slips over your skin. 
He whispers once more, "Again." His words are harsh, hoarse as though he is out of breath. "Tell me again."
“I love you.”
Vader stands and takes your face in his hands. His lips are pressed to yours in a way that is violent, passionate, but the fire in his eyes tells you it's as much rage as it is lust as he takes what he wants. "Again." He whispers to you as though commanding you, his voice breaking with pain. "Tell me again."
You tire of having to repeat yourself, but you do. “Please my lord.” You whisper, “I love you.”
"Again." Vader says, his tone still hoarse, still desperate. He slides the dress entirely off, and takes you in his arms, pushing you backwards until you're pinned under him on the chaise as his mouth takes yours aggressively in a way that might hurt, but there's a strange satisfaction to his touch that you can't deny. Your words are lost in a haze of pleasure and want and fear as Vader pushes you back, his mouth still on yours. His tongue snakes out and searches for yours, and the heat in his touch is intense. He grinds his hips against your thighs, your crotch, wherever he can reach, groaning against you as he chases his own pleasure.
His lust is burning at him and everything in him needs to feel like you love him. Even if he knows you're lying through your teeth. He knows why you even entertain his neediness, to protect your moronic, weak, first love, Gracies Gras. Even if you don’t love him now, he needs you to get better at acting like you did for his own sake. Something for the good in him to hold onto. And he will continue to beg, and beg for you to love him, even though he isn’t perfect and he’s a monster. Under it all, he knows you cant, but if you could try, maybe he could be better.
"Again." His tone makes it hard to recognize the voice of the man you once knew, it's harsh, it's rough, and it's filled with a kind of agony you don't understand. He continues to grab at you, hard enough to bruise, humping at your legs, groaning against your skin. From where you lay, you can see the faint yellow glow around his yellow eyes, the way his lips stay open for breath even after he’s done talking, and the way his hair starts to stick to his face the longer he continues to hump helplessly at your body. You wanted to tell him how much you pitied him in this moment, loathed him.
“I love you, my lord.” You whisper, shutting your eyes. Vader's grip tightens gently around your body, holding you close to him. His kiss slows and he gently breaks the kiss, looking at you as he tries to catch his breath. He groans out as he slips his briefs down, jerking himself off onto your stomach with heavy pants and his eyes screwed shut. He rests his head against your shoulder as he catches his breath, and once he does, he turns his head to kiss your cheek, but you move away and he pauses. He looks at you for a moment, his heart heavier then lead in his chest.
"That is enough." He says quietly. Vader reaches for his robe and clothes, getting back to his feet and cleaning your stomach with a blanket and rebuttoning your dress. He seems unfazed by his own actions, and then, as if nothing has happened that was out of the ordinary, his face is still and impassive, and he walks back to the door.
"Be ready in the morning to leave for Naboo."
“Naboo?” You repeat, looking over at him.
"Yes, Naboo." He says, staring out the window. His tone of voice suggests you should already know what he means.
"Lord Palpatine has asked for my attendance and I intend to take you as well. There will be... duties for you to perform whilst we are there." He says, as if the idea repels him, but also intrigues him greatly.
“I will have my handmaidens begin to pack.”
"Yes, have them do that." Vader's voice is absent, as if his mind is far away now, thinking about something that troubles him. "Be ready by morning." He says, his face still turned toward the window.
He lets another silence hang for a moment before turning to look at you again, his expression impossible to read. He looks at you for a long moment, before finally saying, "Go to bed, my love."
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The next morning, your handmaidens are quick and efficient, dressing you in an outfit that might be considered a little risqué in comparison to your usual attire, but Vader has been asking for it for months. They also do your hair and makeup in a way that is intended to be as appealing to Vader as possible and soon enough you are sat up in bed, fully dressed. Vader enters the room in his formal clothes, his face impassive. You can see the faint shadows of rage in his eyes, though, and they are watching you.
"Come." Vader says quietly, and you feel a strange mixture of fear and desire as you get up from the bed and follow him downstairs to the shuttle that will take you back to Naboo. Both on the shuttle, as during many of your days together on Mustafar, he does not say a word to you.
Eventually, the shuttle lands on Naboo a couple hours early and Vader escorts you out of the ship, his arm sliding down your shoulder as he slowly directs you through the lush gardens of Theed and into a market. As soon as you both are seen, it takes mere seconds for all of the shoppers to leave, leaving you and Vader in a near empty market. 
Darth Vader walks through the bazaar, ignoring the silent stares of the merchants and the hushed, scared whispers of the shoppers as they hide in alleys and abandoned buildings. In the presence of Vader, everyone feels uneasy, yet fascinated by him at the same time. Your heart was pounding as if you were a prisoner about to be led to their execution. Vader held your hand to keep you close to him and you couldn't help but be reminded of his sheer physical superiority and power.
Though you had never been in Theed before now, you were reminded of life on Karlinus. The colored stands and the smells of foods and teas. The last one hitting too close to home and you miss home all at once. “I want tea.” You murmur gently.
At your mention of tea, Darth Vader pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "Tea?" he asks, an edge of disapproval on his face.
“Tea.” You repeat and Vader looks at you disapprovingly but signals a merchant to come over. The merchant bows low before Vader, and then offers you a sampling of some of his best teas. You take your pick and Vader pours your chosen brew into two small cups. Vader watches you sip your tea with an expressionless face.
“It’s good.” You murmur, smiling down into the tea. Vader watches you sip your tea for several moments, his expression still neutral and unreadable. 
Finally, Vader speaks up. "It is indeed good tea," he says, a small hint of approval in his voice.
“You haven’t tried it.”
Vader's face remains stony. "I do not drink tea."
“I see.” You say softly and Vader does not reply, but his hand tightens around yours as the two of you continue walking through the market. As you look into the shops and stalls, Vader remains close at your side, watching you closely out of the corner of his eye. Everyone around you has an expression of fear on their face as they give way to Darth Vader.
Vader continues walking through the main part of the bazaar with you, not saying anything but staying close to your side. He doesn't even speak up when a couple of shopkeepers try to stop you and talk to him, instead just allowing you to keep walking without acknowledging them. Suddenly, Vader tugs you into an alley away from the crowds and you walk in silence for a few moments until he stops by a doorway. Vader looks around the alley, seeming to make sure you two are alone.
“What is happening?” You whisper, shocked from the sudden act. “Why have you brought me here?” 
Vader puts a finger to his lips, indicating you to be quiet. He stares at you for a moment with that same expressionless stare, then finally says in a low voice, "Come here."
You scrunch up your face and shake your head before you whisper back, “We’re in this alley together.”
Vader's eyes narrow. "Come here. Closer." His voice is firm, yet still gentle and quiet.
He watches as you start to lean in, too slow for his liking. Vader pulls you close to him by your hands. He looks at you with an intense stare, his eyes almost searing in their ferocity. He pulls you in closer than ever, until you are pressed tightly against his huge, imposing frame. You feel his breath on your neck as his eyes bore into you.
“My lord, not here, not now.” You whisper carefully.
Vader's eyes narrow and he brings his face close to your ear. "Yes, here. Yes, now." He speaks in a soft, gentle whisper, making it seem even more sinister than his usual tone. Darth Vader grabs hold of you and holds your arms at your sides so you are trapped against him. You suddenly feel his hand slip under the back of your dress, his fingers sliding along your skin. You cannot resist him.
“My lord, please.” You whisper, struggling against him but he just runs a hand over your hair, smoothing it. “Someone could see.”
Vader ignores your pleas, his hand moving farther up your body. His other hand slides down to your thigh, squeezing it. He leans down to your ear and speaks in a whisper. "You will be quiet. You will not leave."
You nod and turn to look and see if anyone can see you both. No one can see the two of you, you are hidden by the shadows of the alley, Vader's imposing figure blocking you off from all other angles. Vader holds you tightly to his body, his face close to your ears as he speaks.
"You see," he whispers, "we are alone."
You nod slowly, heart racing, unsure if its from your fear of the situation or from how close he is in the moment. Vader leans in closer still. His breath is hot on your neck.
"Does this please you, my love?" he asks in a whisper that sounds like the softest of caresses. Vader stares at you intently, waiting for your answer. You feel his hand sliding farther up your body. Your heart beats more quickly now, your breath becoming faster and shallower.
“I- It-” You whisper, feeling conflicted. You knew he had some kind of twisted love for you and he seemed to believe in it so fully. He took you from the life you knew and up-ended it, but it wasn’t entirely his choice. Vader didn't love you at first but he loves you now. He still spoiled you, he doted on you, it was like you were his whole world. Maybe it wouldn't be bad to enjoy it, to let him love you and feel loved.
Vader smiles when you speak. His hand slides to your bare shoulder and he moves in even closer, looking down at you with those piercing, burning eyes. His words are a soft whisper that seems to burn itself into your ears and your brain. "Good," he says. "It should please you, my love."
You shut your eyes and lean back against the wall. As you do, Darth Vader pushes you slightly against it. His body presses close to yours, his hand on your waist. "Open your eyes," he whispers, "and look at me."
But the shame is too immense, the idea of being on a foreign planet for the first time, one of such importance, and taken in the streets is overwhelming. Dirty, foolish, embarrassed. Vader pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Open your eyes, and stop being so foolish," he says, his voice still quiet. His free hand slides up your body a bit, to cup your face.
You open your eyes but still cant look at him. He watches your eyes dart away, looking down the alley, to the quiet marketplace, and even at his chest but not at him. Vader frowns and his hand moves to hold your chin. He slowly turns your face to look directly at him. Your heart beats quickly as you come face to face with him, looking into his cold, yellow eyes... and yet, you cannot help but feel your face flush as he looks at you.
“If we are doing this here, lets hurry. We have to meet the Emperor soon.” You murmur and Vader smiles at you, his face looking almost warm for the first time in your memory. 
"Yes, let us hurry," he says, moving one hand to your back and the other to his pants. As he unties the string of his pants and slides them down, you lift the skirt of your dress for him. Vader looks at you, his eyes burning brightly despite the dimness of the alleyway. "Good girl," he says softly and it makes your heart race even more as you hold your skirts tightly in your hands.
“Hurry.” You whisper, “I feel like someone might catch us.”
Darth Vader looks at you, his face almost looking thoughtful for a moment. "They would be wise not to," he says softly, pulling your dress up above your hips. He is careful to keep you covered by the fabric in his hands in front of you, almost as if he doesn't want the sight of you to be spoiled. He speaks again, his voice almost a whisper but still clear enough to be heard. "No one will catch us."
He pulls down your panties and slides out his cock, giving it a few strokes as he comes closer to you. “I need you, it may not be a good time, but I need you,” Vader whispers making quick work of prepping you on his fingers. His fingers are nimble as he starts with two fingers and moves quickly, impatiently. “If we had enough time, I would take my time with you. To show you that I love you.”
And your eyes almost close, but you fight to keep them open for him. He notices your struggle and shuts his own eyes, kissing at your eyelids as he adds in another finger. “You have to be quiet, okay? No noises. Be good for me and hold your pretty little dress and help us both feel good.” He murmurs against your forehead.
As your breathing picks up, he moves his fingers gently in you and drags his slightly parted lips across your face. Once you start to shift anxiously against him, he pulls his fingers out and starts to slide his cock into you, his hands holding your waist gently.
“Say you love me again.” Vader whispers as he bottoms out, looking in your eyes, his words sound could but theres a desperation in his voice.
“Why must I say it so much?” 
"So I may hear it over and over again." Vader responds quietly, his voice almost gentle again. "Tell me again, my love."
“I love you.” You whisper and he kisses you, and is desperate. His hands tangling in your hair as he holds your face still, his hips beginning to thrust in and out of you, your moans muffled by his mouth. Slowly, your hands come to rest on his waist and timidly you kiss back.
If you give Vader an inch, he will take a mile and his kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth and one of his hands moving to your hip for leverage as he picks up speed. “I love you.” He murmurs, before he focuses on thrusting into you, holding one of your legs on his waist so he can push you into the wall. Each time you gasp, he taps your lips with one finger as if to silence you, as the pressure continues to build, your gasps become moans and whines and Vader quickly cups a hand over your mouth.
“Be quiet. I can’t believe you’re so scared if you’re not listening to me and being so loud.” He whispers, before he kisses your forehead and continues to thrust into you. His eyes focused on yours, silently urging you to look at him, to keep your eyes on him. To let him be the center of your universe for even a moment. “Rub yourself,” He murmurs, “You deserve it, my love.”
Your hands slips under your dress and he can feel it from how close he is to you. Your hand is so small, delicate, and lost in the mess of fabrics that protect your true for from the world. As you rub circles on your clit, he groans as you start to clench around him, so Vader leans close, whispering in your ear.
“Are you close?”
You hesitate for a moment before you give him what he wants, a small nod.
“Do you really need to come?”
Another nod, this time without hesitation and he watches as your eyes focus on him again.
“Come on them.” He murmurs, continuing to thrust into you and once you release, the hand on your mouth holds on a bit tighter and the other moves from your leg to slip behind your head to keep you from hitting the wall. And he follows you, coming against your cervix as he takes a moment to breathe, his head hanging for a moment. 
As you both come down, he slides out and tucks himself away before he smooths your hair and dress. His eyes comb over your appearance to make sure not even a hair is out of line. Once he is sure all is good, he leans forward and kisses your lips again, this time gentle. He moves your hair aside to whisper in your ear. “I have one last thing to ask of you.”
“What is it?”
“Do you know the Hero With No Fear?”
His question strikes you as odd, you know who he was before he fell to the dark side. Everyone knew it, every one can see it when they look at him. “Anakin Skywalker?”
When you say his old name, his eyes shut for a moment. His ears savor the way it sounds coming from you, so different from how others said it then and even now “Yes… That is all.” Vader murmurs, and a silence falls over you both as you stand still.
“Are we going now to see the emperor?”
"Yes, love." He replies coldly, moving in front of you now to guide you towards the palace, his steps measured and his stride even. "Palpatine has something he wants to discuss with us both." He says, as if this is nothing out of the ordinary. You follow behind him quietly before you take his arm in yours so you wont get lost, but also to just be close enough to him.
Vader looks down at you as you hold his arm and he seems to pause for a split second before turning his stare forward again. He holds your arm still, his fingers gently brushing over your hand and wrist, and his hand squeezing yours once more.
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A few minutes later, you are escorted into Palpatine's office, a snakelike smile on Palpatine's face as he looks to greet you both only to be met by a shared silence. Palpatine gestures to some comfortable chairs on the other side of the office, and Vader leads you to them, still holding your arm tightly. He makes no movement to sit down, though, and his eyes remain on you, his breathing coming fast and hot as he watches you.
Your gaze returns to the Emperor and Palpatine seems perfectly calm and at ease, as if he has been expecting this visit all along, the smile still on his face. Vader's eyes lock with yours again, and he tilts his head slightly, as if puzzled by your glance at Palpatine.
"Do you know why we are here today." Palpatine asks you directly, his voice warm and friendly.
“No, your highness.” You say, not letting him see any fear and next to you, Vader straightens up in support, looking on at Palpatine.
Palpatine looks to Vader as he answers, but Vader's cold expression never changes, and you cannot see what he is thinking. "I had a feeling." Palpatine continues, his voice as warm as it was a moment ago. He motions over a protocol droid to record the conversation, and once the droid is ready, he turns back to face you. "It has come to my attention that Lord Vader has developed... feelings..." He pauses, as if the word he is looking for is something entirely foreign. "For you."
Palpatine's smile grows wider as he seems to find a word more suitable to what he is saying. "Lord Vader has developed... affections... for you." He says, and now Vader's shoulders drop slightly. Palpatine continues. "He has been so devoted to the Empire, and yet I cannot help but wonder if this feeling... this affection... might not... compromise his loyalty."
“Oh.” You say softly, before you hold your tongue. You knew better than to give any thoughts or feelings to the Emperor, but you feel a creeping sense of dread.
Palpatine's smile fades slightly at your response, and he turns to look at Vader. Your breath catches in your throat at the look on Palpatine's face: it's not a look of anger or even surprise. It's almost... a look of... envy.
Vader's hand grips your shoulder tighter in response, and he glances at Palpatine as he says in an almost pleading tone, "My lord."
Palpatine ignores Vader, continuing to look at you. "Lord Vader's... affection... for you..." Once again the words seem strange to him. "Could prove... unsettling." Palpatine gives a smile to Vader, before looking back at you, his lips curling into a grin as he watches you.
"If you did... something that forced Lord Vader to abandon you..." He pauses, and you wonder what he's talking about. "Would he stay loyal to me... or you?"
Vader's grip on your shoulder tightens again, as if he's telling you to remain silent and not respond to this. His voice comes out a hoarse whisper now. "Do not answer him." He says quietly.
Palpatine looks as if he's about to ask you another question, but decides against it. His face seems to light up as he realizes something.
"Yes... this is perfect." Palpatine says quietly. "Lord Vader?" Vader turns slowly to face him, and you can tell Vader knows what is coming. Vader slowly nods, an expression that seems like resignation on his face.
"Lord Vader... I believe it is time." Palpatine says, and your heart sinks as he continues. "We must put this attachment to the test." Palpatine stares at the both of you now, the expression he wears now almost entirely different than it has ever been. His face is almost... angry?... as looks between the two of you.
Vader meets your eyes, and you see that he seems resigned, as if this is not the first time Palpatine has done something like this to him. 
"Lord Vader... I want you to kill her." Palpatine says quietly, leaving a long pause between his sentence.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months
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Next chapter
summary: There are thunder clouds in the horizon that threaten Eris’s chance of being a high lord. Rhys strikes a deal. The only thing left to find out now is who gets out of this deal alive?
warning: death, blood, enemies to lovers, fighting, forced arrangements, talk of marriage of convenience.
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Things were changing in Prythian. With the length of fea lives, high lords didn’t change often. But when the shift did happen, it was as if someone were to open a beast's belly, and suddenly everyone was on the fence; the territory was for grabs, and others could gain something from the new weaker high lord until the power fully settled in him.
“I’ll need you with me tonight," Rhys said, slowly swirling his drink in the glass. The tension could be felt in all the courts, but Rhys had been deep in his thoughts ever since the news about the new high lord had circled. “You’re in a mood to kill the new high lord of autumn already?", you mussed, making Cassian let out a snort. You had lost the number of meetings that had been held in the past week alone. And while you didn’t like Eris, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. On one hand, this, no doubt, had to be a relief. To know that the world was no longer tarnished by Beron. But the responsibility was still hard to carry all alone.
“A diplomatic meeting," Rhys clarified, making you roll your eyes, “That can be changed real quick with a dagger." But you could see the plea in his eyes. And something else. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp. It had been there for a couple of days now. It was hazy at first, while Rhys was still contemplating it all in his head. Now, however, it was set and done, leaving a trail of unease in your gut when you caught a glimpse of it.
“I need you." You were not sure what exactly those words implied. Knowing how fond you and Eris were of one another, it was as if Rhys had planned a civil war to break out in the autumn. Unless he needed Eris to decline whatever offer Rhys was going to propose, and you were just the thing for that, “Fine, I’ll be there," you huffed, bringing the glass to your lips. Even if you knew that not even booze could make a meeting like that bearable, "I can't wait to see Eris’s face when you walk in." Azriel’s low voice filled the room, followed by Cassian’s chuckle. “You enjoy his misery way too much, Az," you said, shaking your head with a smile. “What can I say? I’m a simple man," the spymaster smiled before downing his drink.
Eris had been dreaming of this day since the moment he realized that this brutality would only end when Beron was six feet, make it ten so the bastard wouldn’t have a chance of crowning out, below. One thing he didn’t take into consideration was that the new power would rip at him from within. Leaving him quite shaky and restless. Not to mention that he didn’t have anyone to guard his back. His younger brothers were all corrupted by his father to be of any help at all.
“Apologies for your loss once again," Beron’s right-hand man clapped Eris’s shoulder. "The council will miss Beron’s presence," the other added sympathetically. No doubt, Eris thought. All the males in this room had been fed like pigs out of the same hod for decades. And Beron fed them well with promises that were never truly delivered. “But we do not doubt you, Eris," and here was the silent warning that they expected the same treatment from the oldest Vanserra. No doubt already able to sniff out Eris’s plans on wiping the council out. “Yet we are here to guide you if..." “If that’s all, I would like to end the meeting," Eris said, raising his hand. The yapping of these old men had drilled the last bit of sanity out of him today. With a flow of “Of course, of course," and “our apologies for holding you up," Eris watched them pick up their scrolls as they hurried out of the room.
The moment the door closed, Eris let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. Exhausted. He was just so exhausted. If only he could sleep at night. To just… “You looked like a fox kicked by a hunter," Eris opened his eyes to the sound of a familiar voice. "Lucien, my patience is running low tonight." It came out harsher than Eris intended. He was glad that Lucien had agreed to listen in on the meetings in general. He didn’t have to. But Eris had no one to turn to. “This wasn’t that bad of a meeting," the youngest Vanserra said, pulling out a chair for himself. The meeting had barely touched on serious topics. Council had tried to swing the chatter to that, but Eris had fully focused on the food supplies and growing stock.
"Would be better if you came back to stand by my side fully," Eris pressed once more. While a part of him understood Lucien's choice, another was bitter that every offer had been declined. “You know I have duties elsewhere," Lucien replied like he had ever since Beron died. “This is home," Eris pointed out, fingers drumming against the table. Their eyes met, and Eris knew Lucien’s next words before they had even touched his lips. “This was never my home," he stated with a shake of his head.
Eris knew that, it clawed at him that Lucien had been out there, going from court to court. At the time, it felt like the best choice. To take him away from all of this. To make sure that no hits, whether physical or emotional, were ever directed at him.
“How’s mother?", Lucien cut the silence upon the two brothers. "She would have happily danced on his grave if she had a chance," Eris mussed. Both brothers couldn’t help but smile. It was crazy to think that she was finally free. No more playing pretend. Their mother was finally a free woman who could do anything she wanted. And even if it hurt to admit it, Eris knew that she too wouldn’t stay back home with him. Her heart had been elsewhere for decades already.
“Why are you still here, Lucien?" Even if Eris loved having Lucien back, he knew too well that he didn’t just linger to be there. There had to be a reason. “Can’t I come over to spend quality time?" Lucien smirked right as Eris cut him off mid-sentence, “Cut the bullshit." And here they were, back at square one. With all the real emotion swept beneath the masks they have been wearing, “Rhys wants to meet with you tonight." Eris let out a deep sigh at Lucien's words. He just didn’t have it in him to go through one more toying session today. “He has valid suggestions," Lucien reassured his older brother. “He can shove them right up his ass," Eris pushed back his chair, turning to pour himself another drink. “Eris, hear him out. You need allies now; you need recognition," there was truth in Lucien’s words. Even if the times were changing, some old rules still applied, even if Eris didn’t plan to rule by the textbook his father had created. But there were still things he couldn’t escape. “I’ve already made a name for myself, Lucien; they know what to expect," Eris stated bitterly. Not daring to look back. Not daring to meet his brother’s eyes.
Swallowed by the never-ending piles of work, Eris had lost track of time. Only the footsteps that sounded down the hall made him halt as he lifted his head. Listening. “Of fucking hell," Eris muttered. All the fibers in his body twisted. Because he knew. Knew without seeing. Knew it deep within his gut. "Joy and cheer!", your voice echoed as you opened the door to Eris’s study. The devilish grin shone across your face. "Hello, kitten," you mussed up at him. Cassian was grinning, barely holding back a laugh. Even Azriel ran a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Eris slowly gazed up at Rhys, “I would have offered you to sit, but since you brought that malice with you..." his eyes darted back at you. Looking you up and down in that profound, unimpressed expression of his. Even if deep blue had always been your color. No one wore it better than you did in Eris’s eyes.
“Oh, because you’re such a cuddly bun," you purred, crossing your arms over your chest. "Y/n," Rhys stated firmly, glaring your way. You let out a huff, “Not my problem; he has his nickers in a twist." You pointed at Eris, who pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lord forbid... I have no time for this. You know where to find the exit." Motioning with his hand, the oldest Vanserra gestured to the door. Already turning away to leave.
"Eris, at least let me make a proposition," Rhys insisted, stepping forward before glancing back at you, “And you sit." The order was degrading, at least. Like a youngster being scolded. "I'm not your lap dog," you grumbled, eyebrows knitted. “You sure look like one," Eris muttered under his breath, making you gasp.
You were about to give him a piece of your mind when Rhys cut in, “There’s unease among the high lords." Eris blinked a couple of times. The low lights were doing no favors for his already paler skin. "Rhys, you either tell me something I don’t know or you leave," the high lord sighed with tiredness. He had heard it all before. And one more conversation about this might end up being the reason why Eris was going to drop dead himself. Rhys stood silent for a moment before uttering, “They want to make a vote; they deem you not fit to rule until they know how Beron died."
And for the first time that night, Eris’s eyes were truly forced on Rhys. A new layer of tension lined his shoulders. “What?" he muttered beneath his breath. “They are planning to hold a meeting without you." Now those words cut Eris deep. That same wound Beron cut open over and over again. You’ll never be good enough. Do you think you could ever sit among them? With me gone, you will be nothing in their eyes. “That’s nonsense; I have a right to be informed about this." Eris gripped the edge of the table. A flame of anger rekindled deep within.
“You need alliances and show them that you have it under control," Rhys pointed out, no doubt having gone through all of that himself. In some ways, “I do have it under control," Eris snarled bitterly. “Well, reports say otherwise," Rhys noted, pointing at the reports in his hand. Eris’s eyes skim over the text with urgency. “Look… I’m offering you help”. Rhys's voice died down.
That same sense of chill ran down your back. It was as if something from deep within was warning you that this was way more serious than you had thought. Eris shook his head as he read. Almost all of the high lords were in on it. There were no direct threats there, but the implications were obvious.
“Marry Y/N," and the room died down for a moment. The silence was so intense that the ringing in your ears nearly made you hold onto your head. “What?”, You both breathed in unison before your eyes fell upon one another. One heartbeat. Two. “Hell no", “Over my dead body," both of your declines fell one after the other.
"Eris, you know how the council runs and how they are about the business. You need to make public appearances. You need someone by your side," and Rhys had a point. If most courts had moved on from council power, Beron had held onto them for dear life. They fed his power. Stopped the fires of rebellion for him. And now their way was Eris’s people's way. “I sure as hell don’t need that leech," Eris said in frustration. “Hey, word choice," Azriel pointed a finger his way, making the frown on Eris’s face even deeper. “I’m not marrying that monster," you hissed.
“I would once again suggest you look at yourself," Eris grumbled back, running his hand over his face. But you were done with him. He could go to hell the way he was standing now. It’s your brother who met your angered face. “Why was I not informed about this? What right do you have to even suggest this?" You stepped closer to him, your hands reaching for his shirt. “It’s a marriage of convenience," Rhys said again, trying to kill the frustration his suggestion had caused, “You play by the rules; secure the spot for Eris among that table, and then we’ll find a way to split you apart. My word will be worth more if you’re courting my sister."
No, this couldn’t be happening. Gone were the times when women were traded like pigs. This was a joke. A nightmare. You pinched your hand once, twice. Nothing. It didn’t all fade away. “No, absolutely, no," you breathed, your hand falling on your chest. This was not the life you had dreamed of. Not how it was supposed to go.
“What’s the catch here, Rhys?" Eris breathed. Was he even considering this? Surely he wasn’t. “He left Mor by the fucking border! Do you want me in ribbons by your door?", you pulled at Rhys’s black shirt, practically hissing through your clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands with you that much," Eris’s voice killed your huffs as you turned back at him.
"Asshole," you spat his way. “Whiny little girl," Eris huffed back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I fucking hate you," you shrieked in frustration, pulling at the roots of your hair as the situation slowly sank in. “Oh, you hate me? Do you want to know how I feel?" Eris laughed bitterly, his eyes not leaving you, “If you were my wife, I would put poison in your morning tea." His cold words sliced through you. You let out a bitter chuckle. Taking a breath to compose yourself. A shaky hand running down the skirt of your dress to smooth the material. “Ah, well, if you were my husband, I would happily drink it." Your words lingered in the air,and you could see it even if it was just a flash. A blink. That second of shock that flashed through Eris’s eyes.
With a quick step forward, you pushed at his chest, "Never do you hear me?" You hissed one more time, “Will never happen." His hand caught your wrist with a swift motion as he pulled you closer to him. Your chest firmly pressed against his as he muttered right against your face. “You’re screaming at me as if it’s my idea," Eris huffed, dropping your hand.
You blinked, turning back to your older brother. Who swore to protect you. To always look out for you. “You’re a shit brother, Rhys," you stated. Finding it so utterly hard to even look at him now. All this time. He could have warned you. Said something. Asked. But no. “I’m trying to stop another war from happening," he stated as if this were a simple transaction, not a life-altering decision. “By sacrificing me?" You hit your chest in frustration. Your youthful years would spent slaving in another country, and for what?
“Don’t be so dramatic," Eris huffed, making you let out a frustrated whimper, "Oh, my apologies for not seeing any gain in this for me." Rhys took a deep breath. “The court wants a married man with a powerful woman by his side." Here it was his lord's voice. Not your brother. He stepped closer to you, trying to reach for your hands, but you backed away instantly. “This is more about you than anyone else," he tried to reason. So you were to be a play toy. A figurine in someone else’s game. “Just unbelievable," you said, shaking your head and stepping back. Your leg hit the cabinet, sending a couple of bottles tumbling down. Rhys called your name once more, but you didn’t. Couldn't be here any longer as you bolted towards the door.
"Y/n," Rhys called out in warning, moving towards the exit as well. “Don’t you dare follow her; you’ve done enough damage for the night," Eris’s cold voice made the Lord of the Night halt. And for the first time that night, the uncaring mask on Rhys’s face slipped: “Don’t lecture me when I’m trying to help," venomous frustration seeping through, “I’m landing you my biggest asset. She’s my only blood family." Eris couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face, “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t toy with her like that”. Rhys’s jaw twitched.
"Careful," Azriel reasoned for the second time that night. Eris had forgotten that the two of them were even there. “Stop barking from the back rows," he hissed at the two batboys. Cassian quickly placed his hand on Azriel’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. Eris shook his head, “You miscalculated, Rhys; admit it." Turning back to reach for the bottle of brandy, Eris took a swig straight out of the bottle. “You’d gain power out of this. But your precious demon of a sister will never forgive you for this." That struck a nerve deep within Rhys. And suddenly, the suggestion itself felt ingenious. So there was a catch after all, huh? “A day," Rhys said firmly, “I’m giving you a day to think this through; then my offer is off the table." Like that. He was dismissed as if he too wasn’t a high lord now. As if Eris wasn’t in an equal position to demand. Eris leaned forward,“You were never the one offering, Rhys; it was never your call to make."
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readychilledwine · 3 months
Text
Housewife
✨️Kink education with Elizabeth✨
The Housewife kink, also known as the 1950s Household, is a power play exchange dynamic that typically involves a dom and service sub. It is characterized by one partner being seen as a homemaker and one as the breadwinner. During the 1950s, the homemaker’s “job” was to take care of the household chores, dinner, children (if they had any), and following norms, their husband's needs all while being the picture perfect example of soft femininity and breedability.
Subs partaking in this form of play tend to wear dresses, heels, aprons, ect, while maintaining a clean home and cooking. Many people enjoy this dynamic due to its ability to come into real-life play instead of just hiding in the bedroom.
It is one form kink play that does not necessarily have to be sexual, but that's not why we're all here 👀
NSFW BELOW CUT
💕Peep Valentines Day Bingo Here 💕
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Azriel x Reader
Summary - After a long day of interrogations, Azriel is more than pleased to come home to dinner made, a clean home, and a pretty wife.
Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, references to completely power exchange play, oral (mreceiving), slightly demeaning behavior towards females
A/N - I apologize for the delay. My little is going through a growth spurt and a little fussy today. Plus, it took FOREVER to find the perfect gif.
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Azriel opened the door to his cabin. His shoulders were slumped forward, wings hanging slightly lower than normal.
It had been a rough day. He had been torturing the same prisoner for 3 days now. They refused to yield, they refused to break, and they refused to bend and give the shadowsinger what he wanted.
He knew that all would change the second he saw you, though. You were currently setting dinner on the table. Your hair was softly curled and pinned back, a soft touch of makeup graced your face highlighting his favorite features of yours.
You were wearing a blue sundress the flowed out at the bottom with heels and a blue bow in your hair.
“How's my wife today?” He took pleasure in knowing you would not address him until he addressed you. He took pleasure in knowing that within seconds of hearing his voice, you were trained to get him a glass of whiskey and greet him with a kiss.
“Azriel, you're home early,” you immediately went to the liquor counter, dress swaying as you did. You poured him a finger of whiskey, moving to add ice before walking to him and kissing his cheek. “How was your day?”
Azriel drank as you began removing his outer heavy layer for him, watching like a hawk as you hung his coat and placed his already kicked off boats into the precise place he had told you they go.
“Same prisoner as yesterday,” he watched you blink in confusion. “The bastard will not break and submit. Did you make dinner?”
You nodded enthusiastically, walking him to the table and getting him a plate. “I made your favorite.”
Azriel settled into the couch after dinner, watching you as you cleaned dishes. Every soft movement of your dress had his eyes locked on the hem. Each time you'd reach forward slightly, he was rewarded with a glimpse at the garter belt straps that connected to the satin tops of your thigh highs. It was a constant reminder to him that you were his present, waiting to be unwrapped so delicately as a reward for your continued obedient behavior.
“Angel,” he spoke softly. “Are all your chores done after this?”
It should have bothered you as a wingless Illyrian female to hand over submission so willingly out of hope you'd be rewarded with your mate's cock pounding into you over and over, but instead knowing you were about to be rewarded, that he was about to use you like a pretty cock sleeve, that had your thighs pressing together. “They are. Unless you wanted me to do something else.” A cool shadow began swirling your leg. Its touch was like soft kisses and left shivers in its wake.
Azriel leaned back, watching his shadow go on its mission, watching as you took a gasp, spine going straight before moaning his name. “Let me know when you finish.” He placed an arm on the back of the couch, scenting your arousal filling the air as you whimpered and went back to the last few dishes.
It wasn't fair. Trying to focus on scrubbing and rinsing as a shadow sat vibrating against your lace covered clit was nearly impossible. 5 dishes, you reminded yourself. He lets you leave them overnight to dry. Just 5 more. You focused on the dishes, doing the best you could to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs.
You almost jumped as rough hands ran up your arms. “My pretty little wife. My mate,” one of his hands wrapped and held your throat. His other hand ran down your chest, through the valley of your breasts, before settling on your hip. He started placing soft kisses along your neck, your ear. “How lucky am I to have such an obedient wife taking care of my home?” He squeezed your throat softly before his other hand began lifting Your dress. The hand on your throat moved to join the other one as he moved you away From the sink and to a different section of countertop, bending you over it and place one hand at the back of your neck to hold you Down. He groaned as his shadows held up that pretty dress, exposing those sapphire lace panties
"The dishes," you panted.
"Can wait. I can't. I've been hard since I walked in to you setting the table wearing my color, wearing a little bow tying your hair back like some innocent little thing." Your panties were moved to the side. Two fingers began to run the length of your core as Azriel groaned behind you. "So fucking wet I've hardly done anything."
You heard a muffled moan and could only assume he had put his fingers into his mouth. "So sweet, baby." You could hear him undoing his pants, feel as the head of his cock ran your folds. You could feel down the bond that it would be a long night.
You gasped loudly, gripping the counter with a mix between a moan and scream as he pushed into the hilt. Azriel wasted no time, threading one hand into your hair and pulling while the other held your hip. Azriel growled as you wiggled slightly, causing you to still. "Such a good little wife."
He wasted no time, setting a pace that had your toes curling in those heels that made your ass look phenomenal. Shadows quickly moved to hold the dress up, allowing the hand on your hip to move to your still covered clit.
There was something freeing about being below him, serving him, being used by him. It was enough for that coil to tighten faster as your mind went blank, focusing on nothing but the feeling of his heavy hard cock hitting every nerve inside of you, angling until he found the spot that had you scream his name.
Despite the roughness he fucked you with, the power you were freely handing to him, Azriel still sent wave after wave of his love, his admiration, and his pride down the bond. With each wave, that coil got tighter and tighter, your moans louder and more desperate as your body felt like it was on fire. "Be a good wife and cum for me," his fingers pressed down on that bundle of nerves, hips pistoning into you even faster as you screamed his name, walls milking his cock.
Azriel pulled out instead of following you over the ledge, ripping that dress off of you and leaving you in the lingerie and heels. He lifted you into his arms while you still came down from the high, your vision almost blurred.
You felt the soft bed under you, smelling the fresh sheets you had just changed hours ago. Azriel smelled them too as he positioned you with your head hanging off the bed. "You spoil me," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing and tweaking your nipples.
His cock sat heavy and leaking near your face, soaked in your release, "Open." You smiled, opening your mouth wide, allowing him to push in just as two fingers slid into your heat.
He was gentle this time, for now at least, fucking your throat. You ran your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. You were at his mercy, wiggling and moaning around him as the wet noises of his cock in your mouth and his fingers thrusting in and out of you echoed with his moans and occasional whimper.
His pace picked up as his fingers did, making him chuckle in satisfaction as you gagged around him. "You deserve a reward for how hard you worked today, don't you, y/n?" He groaned as you moaned around him, vibrating his cock as he held it deep in your throat. "Not a single thing out of place, every chore finished, and I came home to you looking like a delicious treat? What a good little wife." You felt your vision getting slightly blurry until he pulled out again, your pleasure almost maddening as he avoided the spongy spot inside of you and brushed your swollen clit with ghost like touches. "That's what you are isn't it? No thoughts in that pretty mind of yours but pleasing me and taking my cock like an obedient whore?"
You would have nodded, begging him to give you what you needed as you agreed to every word, but his cock was still occupying and twitching in your mouth. You knew from the way his fingers had become messier in their rhythm, from the way his words were getting breathy, from how each moment of your throat burning as he held himself deep inside grew longer and longer that he was close.
You had been dreaming of his all day. Dreaming for your reward for dusting, for cooking, for cleaning. The reward you'd get when he came home to a spotless house, to his laundry done, to you wearing your pretty outfit for him.
His fingers curled into the spot you needed, pressing and tapping there as shadows curled and flicked your nipples and his thumb ran gentle circles on your clit. You finished within seconds with no warning, crying around his cock, hands fisting the sheets.
Azriel fell over the edge soon after, spilling with his cock shoved all the way into your mouth forcing you to swallow what you could, head thrown back as his wings flared and he moaned your name without shame.
He pulled out, fisting the exposed length and allowing the last of his cum to land on your face, admiring the mess of drool, makeup, and his seed you had become. His fingers left your cunt, going to his own mouth as he licked them clean with a smile. He watched as your hand waved and the bathtub began to fill.
"I'm not done with you yet," he panted, hands trailing your body.
You smiled, your own hands running up and down his thighs. "I counted in that, but let me take care of your other needs first."
Azriel looked up, a wide smile on his face as he sent a silent prayer to whoever blessed you with acts of service as your love language. "I would really like that."
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maidragoste · 5 months
Text
Chapter Two: A United Front
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The Hunger Games AU
Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader
Chapter One
First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰
Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.
The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.
“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.
You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.
"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him…Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.
"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.
"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.
Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."
"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."
For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.
"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.
Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.
"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"
You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.
Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.
So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.
"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."
You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.
“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.
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Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.
As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.
Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.
“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.
“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.
“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.
"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.
"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.
Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.
"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.
"What?"
"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.
"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.
It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.
“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.
Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.
You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”
Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.
He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.
Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.
"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.
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rosenyras · 1 year
Text
The Night of Feud and Desire
Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader
Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.
Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation
Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!
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To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.
Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.
By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.
“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.
When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.
After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.
Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.
You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.
In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.
And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.
You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.
As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”
Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”
As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”
You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.
“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”
As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.
Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”
A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”
As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.
As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.
A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.
You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.
“How may I help you, niece?”
His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”
Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”
You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”
Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.
“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”
Well. Damn.
To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.
“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”
Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.
It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.
Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”
Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?
Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.
“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.
Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.
All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.
And that seemed to break him.
Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.
A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.
You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.
The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.
“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.
“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.
“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”
“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”
Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.
As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.
“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”
Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.
It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.
“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.
You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.
“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.
Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.
Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”
And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.
Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”
Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”
Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.
Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“
“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.
“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.
“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.
Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.
“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”
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strawberriianime · 1 year
Text
Master
♡ master! muzan kibutsuji x succubus! reader
♡ CW: 18+ themes such as sexual content, muzan is a jerk, manipulation, unprotected sex, degradation, creampies, spitting in the mouth, spanking, punishment, rough angry sex, biting, the reader gets hit with a belt, slight humiliation, explicit language~
Muzan’s eyebrow twitched as he heard you drop, yet another book from his bookcase driving him out of his concentration once more. How could he focus on his task if you kept making noise?
Not even a millisecond later, another thud made Muzan squeeze the graduated cylinder he was holding, causing tiny pieces of glass to fly over his desk area. You let out a slight squeak as the man appeared behind you, yanking harshly at your tail causing you to fall from the ladder onto the hard wooden floor. Looking up sheepishly, you were met with a pair of piercing red eyes staring completely through your head. 
“I’m sorry master! It was just that the book’s where so heavy and I couldn’t catch them before they hit the floor.” you brought your knees up to your chest as your tail wagged like a snake along the floor. 
“Why do I even keep you around, if you can’t do anything right?” he spoke in a low voice, if it was possible you would shrink yourself even more than you already were. You didn’t say anything back, causing the man’s eye to twitch even more. Nothing outside of the regular things upset Muzan more than you. It’s like he had a special nerve that only you can hit. 
You felt a tight grip around your wrist that pulled you quickly to your feet, dragging you along the dark black hallway leading to an area you were oh-so-familiar with. It was his bedroom. No one was allowed into Muzan’s bedroom unless he brought you there. You were brought out of your thought as muzan tossed you onto the floor, as he made his way to a solo chair in the room removing his belt in the process. He sat on the chair shaking his head slightly in disappointment.
“Crawl over here,” he spoke, as you got on all fours crawling to him slowly and steadily before stopping right in front of him.
“Lay across my legs,” he commanded once more. Making way, you laid your body long on his legs which were quite uncomfortable for your stomach and boobs. 
Muzan ran his right hand along the material of the dress you were wearing, it’s not like it was covering much anyway. He stopped right where the tight material ended, pulling it up and bringing your ass into full view. He kneads the plushness of your bottom, completely naked already. He commanded you not to wear panties anymore once the relationship got intimate. 
“Now, why should I not strike you with this belt?” he asked tightening his grip around the black leather belt. 
“Master, I apologized for dropping the books al-” a very hard smack was brought onto your bottom causing you to let out a yelp.
“Wrong answer” he sighed as your bottom turned red like an apple, if you were human you would’ve been done for.
“I’ll give you one more chance.” he tapped his foot slightly looking down at you.
“I did everything you asked me to do-” You were cut off once again as the leather made contact with your bottom once more.
“Why do we have to go through this over and over again?” strike
“If I give you a task I want it done flawlessly” strike
“You dropped 5 books today, that’s 5 too many” strike
“Just pitiful” strike
By now, your face was flushed just as red as your bottom. He stood up, causing you to fall on your bruising bottom. He pulled you up by your forearm, and brought you over to his bed, pushing you down on your bottom once more causing you to hiss out in pain. 
He brought his face down to yours, staring deeply into your eyes. “What kind of succubus are you? you’re weak. weak physically and mentally. how does one who does the dominating become the submissive? What a waste of a demon, you should’ve been born human.” Muzan’s words were mean, you were always sensitive and did he know how to hurt your feelings.
He sighed, adjusting his clothing and loosening the tie he was wearing. He removed his bottoms, running his fingers through his hair. “Luckily I found you, someone could have really taken advantage of you.” he moved your legs to each side of his body, hardened length making way to your dripping entrance. 
Your back arched off of the bed as he pushed himself fully into your tight cunt, squeezing him with each muscle of your body. Without warning, he began pumping in and out of you causing the room the be filled with a slight squelching sound. 
“Master, you’re so deep” you whined as you pulled at the zipper of your dress splitting it down the middle and allowing your breast to bounce free. Although he’s never admitted it, it did turn him on watching you toy with yourself. Taking two fingers into your mouth, you coated them in your saliva pulling them from your mouth with a pop. You used the moistened fingers to rub circles on your clit, your other hand tugging at your nipples causing you to let out a sultry moan. 
“Fuck.” you heard your master say before you felt his warmth leave your body. That was only momentarily, as he flipped you around grabbing a fist full of your hair in the process.  He stretched your neck back, muttering “open” as you stuck your tongue out happily allowing your master to dribble his saliva into your mouth. “swallow” you happily obliged. 
He gripped your hips harshly, pricking through the skin as crimson droplets slid down your hip. He leaned over you, his chest to your back allowing him to deepen his thrust, the entire length puncturing your walls. 
“Master I’m gonna cum” you whined clawing at the bed sheets, chasing your high as a tingling sensation made its way through your body. Muzan let out a deep sigh as he rutted into you one final time, before allowing his seed to take over your insides. Just as your high was about to overcome, you felt muzan remove himself from you.
“Master...I didn’t get to cum” Your eyebrows furrowed with desperation.
“And who’s fault is that?” he asked straightening out his attire that he had quickly put back on. 
“Now when I come back, this room better be spotless. If you can do that, I might just reward you.” He walked out of the room leaving you in the dark and completely frustrated. 
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yandere-sins · 7 months
Text
Crisis Averted - Part I [Genshin Spoilers 4.1.]
New Genshin Updates always make my thoughts go brrrr. So here's a little something (with modified happenings to fit the story lol) of Wriothesley after he survived the encounter with the Primordial Sea!
Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairings: Yandere!Wriothesley x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Topics of death (Fear of death, Near-death experiences, Fear of loved ones dying), Reader got locked into a closet, Forced Relationship, Dub-Con touches, Long post
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Heavy were his steps as he finally made his way back to his office. 
The stairs seemed to drag on endlessly after exerting more energy in a matter of minutes than Wriothesley had done in months—actually, years. He couldn't even remember when he last needed to drain his vision for just one more blast of ice and then one more. Luckily, Clorinde was neither a talkative fellow nor in much better shape than he was after they both struggled to hold back the Primordial Sea from escaping. They were both tough and hard to take down in a fight, but even they had their bodily limits.
She left him on the floor beneath his office with a short nod, a few words exchanged out of courtesy and thankfulness. Then she was gone, and Wriothesley's heavy boots continued their ascend, disregarding any weariness in his bones and the burning of his muscles. In a way, the Primordial Water was a prisoner of this place, and Wriothesley chuckled at his own thoughts as he came to this conclusion, exhaustion making everything sound a bit more funny in his head. However, despite knowing that the crisis was averted and the seemingly inescapable destruction and ruin had been contained like an unwilling prisoner of the Fortress of Meropide, he didn't feel like he had succeeded in keeping death away from what he treasured.
Muffling the yawn ripping from his throat, how could he not be elated by the thought of returning to you, the feeling giving him back the pep in his step? Even after all that happened—and Wriothesley had thought of many, many ways this could have ended—you were both still here. Alive. 
Unless the ice had frozen you to the core by the time he reached you.
He skipped the last two steps with a jump to avoid this possibility, generating enough energy to jog from the staircase to the closet. Noticing the glistening ice still enveloping the doorknobs, Wriothesley let out a breath of relief before quickly grabbing them, unbothered by the frozen sting ramming into his hands. Not even his body heat would be enough to melt the ice, but he'd be damned if he let his own safety measures keep him from you. 
Bracing his body against one of the doors, Wriothesley made sure to keep the closet standing upright while he pried the other one open. More strength was needed to loosen the ice that had seeped into every crack, an airtight grave keeping him away from you. But even so, it would have been a better death than what the Primordial Sea would have done to you had they not been able to contain it. Wriothesley forced himself to avoid the thoughts of the pain and agony the water would have caused you, the idea of him suffering such a fate enough to rampage his skin with goosebumps. He had put you into an awful position, but at that moment, he had believed it to be more merciful than being dissolved and drowned in the water.
Jerking the door again, he could hear the ice cracking, more relief washing over him. Relief that it would have succeeded in protecting you until the worst was over, and even more relief that it was giving way now, returning you to him. Surely, you must have already been panicking with the cold raking at you and the slow loss of air. He'd have to apologize later for putting you into this position, wipe your tears if necessary, and get someone to smuggle some cake into the Fortress as a well-done treat. But all he wanted to do now was to have you back in his arms. Everything else was a worry for later, like the Primordial Sea threatening to destroy all life around Fontaine.
One more ice-breaking tug and the door finally gave away, revealing a trembling, miserable person. His trembling, miserable person. Your first instinct was to gasp for air, the few minutes locked away having taken its toll on you. You were coughing and gasping, clawing towards the light, more than ready to exit your makeshift coffin. Wriothesley caught you before you fell, your eyes unaccustomed to the brightness after spending so much time in the dark, and he sat you upright again, helping you out of the blanket he had wrapped around you in a hurry when the commotion started. 
More than any ice, your body had cooled down significantly, and other than when he touched the frozen doorknobs, Wriothesley noticed the temperature of your skin even through your clothes. It pained him, yet, it had been necessary. Pulling his trusty coat off his shoulders, he slung it around your violently shivering form, closing the front tightly so the fur collar would warm your cheeks and ears. There was no way he'd let you walk on legs that were fragile from the cold, and he never planned to let you go anywhere on your own in the first place. 
Strong arms wrapped around your body, now engulfed in his coat. His scent was so prevalent, even when it mixed with yours. Wriothesley appreciated how well they worked together. Had scent been enough to mark you as his, he might not have had to do so many things to keep you by his side. You two could have lived pretty normal lives if all it needed was him rubbing off on you, but alas, normalcy wasn't something he had ever been blessed with. Given that there was a very real chance of him dying from being submerged in Primordial Water, not even his death would be able to be claimed as normal. But neither would yours.
But not today. Neither of you died that day, and Wriothesley thanked whatever godly entity he had to thank for that. Even just having the chance to hold you once more was enough to convince him that everything would be okay. At least for now. For one more day. Lifting you out of the closet, he held you, unmoving. Your arms wormed out, desperately holding on to him as if for your dear life, his warmth seeping onto you. Wriothesley felt your nails rake over his chest, panic driving you closer to him. Every shiver, every squirm through the thick material of his coat, and every sob ripping out of your throat, broke his heart more than you'd ever know. 
"Why did you do that?" you asked, your voice so full of hurt and accusation, yet you pressed yourself harder against him, teeth chattering. For all you knew, you two had been drinking tea (albeit reluctantly on your part) when the alarms suddenly began to blare around you, and Wriothesley shoved you into the closet as if he was punishing you.
"I had to," he mumbled back, his words muffled by the fabric, his arms restricting tighter around your body.
"I could have died! It was so hard to breathe! And the cold… the cold…”
More sobs tore out of you, and Wriothesley closed his eyes, knowing he had to endure the blame your shaky, fragile voice rightfully accused him of. You were right, but would you understand? Could you understand that he'd rather allow you to die peacefully and whole than go through the same agony he'd be in at the same time? Wriothesley had laid awake countless nights thinking of the what ifs and what to do if push came to shove, only to still be unprepared and get run over by the events, wrapping you in a blanket and kissing your head before forcing you into a closet and sealing it shut. Your safety, or at least heightened chances of survival, were the only things he could think of at that moment, you being the only component in his plan that could make him panic.
But now you were crying in his arms, the fear of everything—the unknown, the darkness, death—spilling out of you. He wished he could have prevented it, but now he knew that the truth would only make it worse for you. If he told you what was happening, you'd react like most prisoners here would, and he couldn't guilt you. Not telling you and keeping you in the dark, doing whatever he had to do, regardless of the feelings, was the only way to keep you safe. Wriothesley was the only one to protect you from a fate much worse than what awaited him if he failed. But now that the danger had been averted, the least he could do was hold you.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, rubbing your back through the fabric, hoping to give you the comfort he needed almost as much himself. But other than you, he could only dream of being comforted by the person he loved. And even those dreams seemed unrealistic. Worse days awaited you two, your and his fate sealed together with that of the rest of Fontaine. But not now. Now wasn't the time for tears and worries, and if he hadn't been so damn exhausted—with you in his arms doubly, warm and soft—he would have celebrated your survival more. Soon, you'd come to your senses, fighting him again, and this time, he wouldn't stop you. He couldn't. 
So he'd use what little time he had to enjoy this moment. Walking over to his chair, you graciously let him carry you, allowing him this little, intimate gesture of holding you in his arms all throughout the short journey. Even though he sat down abruptly, knees giving out from under him, your body landed softly, enveloped in his while he let out a strained grunt. The feeling of gravity pressing you into him was one he would have liked to treasure for the next few days, and if it had been up to him, you two would have been cooped up for just as long. But beneath his calloused hands, he could feel your body warming up, your breath no longer icy when it brushed his neck and cheeks.
The fight hadn't taken too long, evident by you still being alive, and yet it felt like he'd been gone for weeks, maybe months. Years of absence that made him miss the feeling of your body and the sound of your voice. His mind should have been on the enemy he was fighting, and yet, his only concern had been you. Getting back to you and not dying without seeing you one more time was everything he thought of as he pushed another punch of eyes to that gate that kept the Primordial Sea contained. You gave him the strength to keep going, if only to give you a chance of survival and to not die in pain like anyone else who'd get into contact with the Primordial Sea. To not give up until Neuvillette showed up, releasing him from this duty to society so he could return to the duty of loving you. 
It had been a lot, but when he raised a tired hand to push some of the fur out of your face, witnessing the tears having stopped and the warmth returned to your cheek, it had all been worth it. Wriothesley had to make progress on the project he kept hidden from everyone to ensure that you'd be protected from all the dangers surrounding him. If anyone, then at least you. So even if he couldn't push this tired body of his to do it that day, he knew that from the moment he'd open his eyes after a nap, he'd be back to working on it tirelessly. 
"This face," he sighed, cupping your cheek and snorting softly at the pout crossing your features. Tracing the bridge of your nose, he hummed, satisfied that everything was still right where it belonged and had not fallen off from the cold. 
"These lips," he mused, brushing his thumb over the soft cushions he dreamed about kissing every night. 
"And these eyes." 
His words made your gaze rise to his, beautiful jewels in the moody, damp lighting of his office, glistening from the tears yet raging like the sea in a storm defying his adoring stare. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. If you had to hate him, then hate him. Despise him, he'd deal with it. Wanted to hurt him, he'd let you. Love him… A man could dream. But seeing a storm of emotions was better than the faded light of death you had when he pulled you out of the closet. That was something he wished to never see again. That he'd fight and strife for to never appear on your face again.
"Don't," he chuckled, grin splitting his lips as he pinched your cheek in a loving reprimand after noticing how you wanted to start arguing. Wriothesley couldn't help but laugh out loud when you let out the most adorable grunt in annoyance, squirming on his lap until you could hide your cheeks into the fur again, away from his touch. He settled for the nape of your neck, holding you there gently and noticing in the back of his head how long your hair had grown since you came to the fortress as he brushed his hand through it.
You glared at him defiantly from the safety of his coat, and Wriothesley couldn't imagine a better place or better look for you. "That's what I'm fighting for," he mumbled, pushing his strained muscles to move so he could kiss your forehead. "It's all worth it as long as I can hold you like this. Just a little longer, alright? I'll get you something nice in return."
Wriothesley wasn't someone who begged, not even for your attention. He'd take it and have it as he pleased, but in that moment, he worried he'd lose you if he let you go—for real this time. The uncertainty and inability to tell you what was happening, left a cold, dark hole inside him, wrenching his gut and bursting his heart with regret. All he had to soothe the pain it caused him was to hold you and feel your soft heartbeat through the layers of clothes around you two. 
It relieved him to know you were safe. He was safe. You both were okay, but mostly you. He never told you that if there was a way to save your life in exchange for his, he'd do it, no question asked. But it was a weird topic to bring up, especially when you considered him to be a heartless, manipulative asshole who used his authority to take advantage of someone less fortunate. So he didn't. Like many things, he kept his thoughts to himself, hoping that, in some miraculous way, you'd come to understand one day. Maybe even like him. 
"I hate you," you reiterated, and Wriothesley managed another chuckle to hide how much that statement hurt him. He fully expected you to jump off his lap now, walk away from him and out of his office, choosing to spend your time wisely instead of indulging him. You were no longer shivering, your teeth calm, and your heartbeat even, and yet, you didn't budge. 
Turning your head to the side, you placed it on his chest, stilling on top of his heart, this small gesture enough to make it threaten to burst out of his ribcage. Maybe he underestimated you. Perhaps you did understand, at least vaguely, that whatever happened had been pretty bad for him. He'd take the pity if it came from you. Wriothesley could only hope you magically understood that whatever he did in his absence, he did it not to harm but to protect you. You never showed him any mercy with your opinions or actions, so this side of you could only be explained by assuming kindness and understanding from you. But whatever it was, he was grateful. So, so grateful. 
This was all he ever wanted: holding you, burying his face in your hair in a moment of vulnerability for him. Where he wasn't stronger, wasn't exuding authority over you. Forcing you to bend to his will. A moment where he could forget the world as all his senses tuned themselves on you. Everything was you, from the softness of your body to the smell surrounding him. Your heartbeat in his ears and his eyes closing as Wriothesley was comforted by your warmth. Even if you'd never appreciate what he was doing, this was enough reward for all the hardships he went through for you daily, but especially on this day. It reminded him of why he was working so hard, even though he never meant to fall in love with you this deeply. Your tiny bit of compliance would satisfy this overpowering need for you for a couple of days until he'd be back on his feet. 
Wriothesley wanted to say more. In fact, he wanted to tell you everything. But it wasn't the right time, nor did he have the strength. Your feelings changed nothing about his, every beat of his heart screaming, "I love you! I love you! I love you!"
He was a little glad you didn't hear it. That would have been embarrassing. 
Grinning to himself, he could feel his conscience being pulled out from under him. His breaths even, despite the extra weight on his chest that he clung to desperately, his chair never feeling more comfortable than in that moment. He wished to stay awake for a little longer, muse about the fact that you were the best blanket he could wish for, feeling just so right. Sleeping while holding you like this would definitely improve his nights, as he wouldn't have to worry about where you were and who you were with. If you were safe or in the process of trying to do something stupid. But he'd take what he could get, even if it was just this one time of you not trying to tear out of his arms and run from him.
After all, this day could have ended very differently. But it didn't. 
He got to hold you again, the crisis averted so he could return to you. He had to be thankful for that, as his life would be worth nothing without you. And even waking up with you gone would be more pleasant than any thought about you dying far away from him. So he'd take this time to rest like he always had wanted, his beloved in his arms, his thoughts and dreams filled with you.
Trying not to be too greedy, now that he knew what it felt like not to lose you.
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a/n: anon(s)! baby fic is here!! apologies for the wait but it’s long and i hope it’s worth it ☺️ honestly this fic feels like total chaos but i kind of love the vibes. not too much to say other than this was fun to write and i think we’re done on svechnikov baby birth fics lol
word count: 6.4k
tw: mentions of labor, brief innuendo, post partum anxiety (not diagnosed in fic)
summary: it’s time for baby svechnikov number four to make their entrance into the world and of course it’s chaos in the best possible way
“Mama!” Alina shrieks for your attention and your heart skips a beat at her volume, mild fight or flight kicking in before you catch sight of her in the doorway and see that she’s fine.
“Christ,” you mutter to yourself, heartbeat returning to normal. The baby gives a violent kick to your kidney and you wince. “Sorry, bub,” you pat the side of your stomach, “that hit of adrenaline couldn’t have been fun.”
Alina shouts for you again and you level her with a stern look, “hey, what did Mama tell you about shouting like that?”
You’re too pregnant to be gentle parenting, but if you don’t remind Alina about her indoor voice, she’ll just run rampant over the next few months while you’re completely distracted with the new baby. She shuffles her feet and pulls at the little ruffles on the sides of her bathing suit.
“No shoutin’ unless someone’s bleeding or really, really sick,” she sighs and when you nod, she perks up with a toothy little grin. “But I had to shout ‘cause Papa says your frone is ready!”
“My frone?” You repeat, brows scrunched together in confusion. You repeat the word a few times under your breath until it clicks. “Oh! My throne?”
Alina nods and does a little wiggle, bouncing on her feet. “Come on, mama! We wanna show you!” She’s definitely still shouting, but your middle daughter has never understood the concept of an inside voice.
You smile at her and laugh, “okay, mama’s coming, Alya. Remember I’m very slow.” You brace one hand at your lower back, the other hand rubbing at the side of your distended belly. As scary as it is, you’re glad that you’re being induced tomorrow - your entire body is sore and your back and hips are killing you from carrying around this giant Svechnikov baby. Your actual due date isn’t for another week, but since baby’s measuring so big, your ob/gyn made the call for a scheduled induction.
“Mama’s like a tuuuurtle,” she grins slyly, skipping back to the yard and leaving you shaking your head.
As soon as you get to the back door, you can feel the mid-August Raleigh heat and humidity, sweat already prickling at your hairline and armpits. You frown, already uncomfortable and not really in the mood to go outside. Leaving the air conditioning is going to be miserable, but the girls were begging you to join them and Andrei outside, so how could you resist. You scrape your hair back into a knot on top of your head, trying to keep as much of it off your neck as possible. Little pieces fall out anyway and curl with the humidity.
You wedge your feet into the pair of Adidas slides at the back door and step carefully over the lip onto the back patio. The heat hits instantly and you frown, cranky. The baby jabs an elbow into your side and you wince - there’s absolutely no room left in your stomach and every time the baby moves, you’re painfully reminded of that. You hadn’t even realized your stomach could stretch this much, but baby number four is testing the limits.
“Maaaaamaaaaa!” Alina and Kira shriek for you in stereo and you wave from the door, reluctant to go outside into the heat.
“Mama’s coming,” you call back, bracing a hand under the curve of your belly and waddling farther out onto the patio. The air feels like soup and you have no idea how Andrei and the girls are so energetic. Before you can make it a handful of feet, Andrei’s at your side, kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hi,” you murmur.
“Hi,” he smiles down at you, looking a little tired. His face is bright pink too, which you had warned him would happen. “Off to your throne, solnyshka.”
You let him guide you over the grass, avoiding the lawn toys and stray Barbie dolls that litter the ground. You’re perfectly capable of walking on your own, but it’s nice to lean your weight against Andrei’s side and have him help you. “Did you reapply sunscreen?” You ask, knowing the answer. Besides his face, his shoulders, chest, and arms are all tinged pink too.
He wrinkles his face at you. “I think once? I’m fine,” he shrugs and stops in front of your throne.
It’s one of your beach chairs settled in front of the girls’ old baby pool, an umbrella stuck in the grass behind the chair.
You grin at Andrei as the girls sprint up and dance around you.
“Do you love it, Mom?” Evie bounces excitedly on her toes. “That way you can watch us play!”
“I love it!” You cup Evie’s cheek in one hand, ruffling Alina’s hair with the other. “This is the best throne ever, you guys are making me feel so special.”
“Only the best for our koroleva,” Andrei winks at you, hoisting Kira up onto his hip when she starts tugging at the hem of his swim trunks. She grins her little toddler grin at you and then whispers in Andrei’s ear, a chubby little hand splayed on his cheek. He nods seriously and says, “yes, Mama will watch you go down the slide.”
You laugh and lower yourself into the chair, your lower back popping and protesting. A little groan slips past your lips and all four of your watchdogs whip their heads in your direction. The girls have wide eyed looks on their faces and you offer up a comforting smile, “sorry, girls. Mama’s okay, remember it’s hard for me to sit so low.”
A brief bout of Braxton Hicks two weeks earlier had taken you by surprise and your startled yelp and the way you had doubled over from the shock had scared the girls a little, so they’re insanely keyed into any weird noise you make lately.
“Why don’t you get Mama’s drink?” Andrei sets Kira back on her feet and nudges the three of them off with his hands. After they skip off, Andrei helps you swing your legs up and over so your feet kick in the cool water in the baby pool.
You sigh happily, dropping your head back, “oh god, that feels good. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack out here.”
The baby kicks, the outline of a little foot visible through the taut skin on your stomach, as if agreeing with you.
Andrei scratches at his jaw, rasping his fingers through a couple of days’ worth of stubble. “It’s not so bad, when you have the girls spraying you with the hose every two minutes,” he laughs a little, squatting down next to you and shaking his head so stray droplets of water fly off of his hair. Your face crinkles up and you swat at him, giggling. He taps at the side of your stomach, hand warm against your skin. “The little one is behaving?”
“In the loosest sense of the word,” you sigh, shifting in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “I’m kind of ready to get my lung capacity back.”
His hands stroke over the swell of your stomach, the baby’s arms and legs following Andrei’s touch. You pluck at the white linen fabric of your dress where it’s stuck to your skin with sweat, regretting the choice of clothing. “Tell me when you want to go inside,” Andrei says. “Girls will be fine if you’re not watching the water war.”
You hum, swishing your feet in the water. “A little vitamin D is probably good for me,” your smirk matches Andrei’s when the double entendre is out in the air. It’s been a minute since you had Andrei inside of you, too uncomfortable for the exertion, and you miss having him that way. The horny days of your second trimester are long in the rearview mirror.
Before he can say anything, the girls come running from the house, ice rattling around in the Stanley that Evie’s got clutched in her arms. You grin at the sight - your oldest leading the charge with her younger sisters following dutifully behind. Evie unceremoniously drops the cup on your lap with a chirpy, “here, Mama! Daddy even added lemon for you.”
“Oh, my favorite,” you reach out to tug on one of Evie’s braided pigtails and she beams at you before dancing away, Alina hot on her heels. Kira presses her little body up against your thigh and looks at you with puppy eyes. “What’s the matter, Kiry?”
“I have?” She asks, pointing at your Stanley.
You nod and hold the cup out for her, straw pointed in her direction. She plants her hands on the metal and chews a little on the straw while she sucks back more water than you expected. Andrei laughs a little when she gulps down the water, releasing the straw with a heavy sigh and then runs off, shrieking for her sisters.
“Adding another one to this chaos is going to be wild,” he comments, leaning back and splashing his hand in the pool water, hitting your shins with little droplets.
“Poor number four is either going to be the loudest to be heard or the quietest with three big sisters talking for them,” you giggle, tracing your fingers over the engraved 37 on the Stanley - the WAG Christmas gift that keeps on giving. You get a particularly painful kick to the ribs and wince, muttering, “maybe that first option.”
“Dadddeeeeeee!” A trio of shrieks echo across the yard, the girls calling for Andrei to rejoin them. He stands up and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Duty calls,” he gives you a little salute and jogs off, leaving you to enjoy the way his ass fills out his bathing suit. It’s a view that never gets old, but even better is watching Andrei chase the girls around and play with them, matching grins on all four of their faces. He chases them through the sprinklers - if those have been on all morning, your water bill is going to be through the roof - and lets them splash him, pretending to get scared. He watches while the two older girls clamber up the side of the small inflatable water slide you’d ordered back in June when it was obvious that the majority of the summer was going to be spent in Raleigh, with the girls running loose in the backyard.
Kira stays at the bottom, in the splash zone, shrieking happily when Evie and Alina zip down the slide and hit her with water.
It’s honestly the best thing you’ve ever bought - the Nečas kids have been over for play dates at least once a week to run wild in the water and you’ve had a ton of the other guys and their families over for barbecues and parties. Now, you’re just glad it’ll keep your girls occupied while you relax.
After you’ve been outside for an hour or so, you call them all back so you and Andrei can reapply sunscreen to the girls’ pink little faces and shoulders. Andrei gets his own healthy dose of sunscreen, even though it’s too late for him to avoid the sunburn on his face, chest, and shoulders. You make a mental note to throw a bottle of aloe into the fridge when you get inside.
“I hate this, Mama!” Alina whines, bouncing from foot to foot while you try to cover her face in Baby Coppertone. “It’s yucky and sticky and I don’t want it!”
“If you don’t let me reapply,” you huff, out of breath from trying to keep her still between your knees and your severely diminished lung capacity, “your skin is going to turn pink and hurt.”
“I want pink skiiiin!” Alina howls, dodging your sunscreen covered hands and running off, her face a little mask of white from the lotion you hadn’t been able to rub in properly. She disappears into the playhouse and you roll your eyes, giving up completely. You’re too exhausted to fight her and tomorrow’s sunburn will be a problem for the babysitting grandparents while you push out the bowling ball baby laying on your bladder.
Behind you, Andrei laughs and teases you, “just like her Mama, that one.”
“Absolutely not,” you grumble, holding out your hands to him so he can pull you to your feet. “I’m literally so quiet and agreeable.”
“Maybe when you’re sleeping,” Andrei scoffs, helping you step out of the pool. His palm finds the side of your stomach like a magnet, fingers spread over the swell protectively. “Otherwise, you’re stubborn like a bull.” He pauses, smirks. “And loud.”
“You’re terrible,” you mutter, waddling as fast as you can to the bathroom. “Bullying the woman who’s carrying your fourth giant baby.”
Andrei’s voice carries through the bathroom door as you shut it behind you, “this is only the second big baby! The other two were normal sized.”
Later, when it’s far past your bedtime and you still can’t sleep with excitement and nerves swirling low in your belly, you whisper into the dark of your bedroom, “Drei? Are you awake?”
It takes a second, but eventually he replies, “depends.”
“On what?” You reply quietly, shifting and bending your leg so you can open up your hip a little and relieve some of the uncomfortableness. Kira curls closer to you, one arm draped over your stomach, the thumb of her other hand wedged firmly in between her lips. She looks even more like a baby while she sleeps, long eyelashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks, and you start to feel emotion clogging your throat. Her last night of being the family’s baby. You hadn’t had the heart to put her back in her own bed when she came wandering in a few hours ago.
“On what you need from me,” Andrei’s voice is clouded with sleep, but you see and feel him roll onto his side so he’s facing you.
You stick your tongue out at him lightly. “Last night as a family of five,” you murmur. “Any final guesses - fourth girl or first boy?”
“Girl,” Andrei replies on a yawn, reaching his hand out and over Kira to rub at your belly. “Belly looks the same as it did with all three, just bigger.”
He’s not wrong, but, “agreed. But only because I think my nose spread out again like with the girls.”
“You’re just as beautiful as always,” Andrei says.“Your nose looks the same too.”
You’re convinced he’s lying, but there’s no point in arguing now.
“Think we’ll see bub tomorrow or will it be a couple of days?” You yawn, exhausted but wired. You can’t decide if you have to pee or if it’s just the pressure of the baby.
“Tomorrow,” Andrei laughs a little, “if the kid knows what’s good for her.”
You yawn again and Andrei tells you to get some rest, “it’s going to be a busy few days, solnyshka.”
Somehow you manage to fall asleep and then it’s induction day, a hectic morning consisting of four grandparents showing up and three little girls bouncing around asking if their baby is coming yet. You’re overwhelmed by the time Andrei helps you into the passenger seat of the Navigator, kissing you gently.
“Calm, my love,” he murmurs against your lips, rubbing at your stomach. “We know what to do, right?”
You nod, “right.” Wrapping your fingers in the neck of his t-shirt, you tug Andrei back in for another kiss. “Let’s go have a baby!”
Twelve hours later, you’re dripping in sweat, contractions gripping your stomach every thirty seconds with regularity. Andrei’s eaten lunch, dinner, and then a second dinner around 8:30. You, on the other hand, are on your ninth cup of ice chips and are dying for something that will actually fill you up.
You hold out your hand for Andrei’s when another contraction starts and he lets you crunch his fingers together while you breathe through it. “More ice?” He asks, brushing frizzy, damp strands of hair off your forehead.
“No,” you huff, slumping back against the pillows. “I never want to see an ice chip again. The second this kid pops out, I need you to get me a party platter of sushi, I don’t care what time it is.”
Andrei laughs and promises that he’ll get you whatever you want.
After that, it’s a blur. The contractions are nonstop, your ob/gyn between your legs encouraging you to push, and Andrei’s arm braced around your upper back to give you some leverage.
“Okay, I see some hair,” your doctor says. “Big head, but one push and it should be out. Then we’ve got a baby!”
Andrei murmurs encouraging words in your ear that you barely hear over the rush of blood in your head and the guttural scream that forces out of your throat. You scream and cry and there’s pressure and then release as the baby slides out.
You’re allowed to slump back against the pillows, tears streaming down your face while you crane your neck to see the baby, “is the baby healthy? Is she okay?”
“He’s just perfect,” your doctor beams, holding the baby up. “It’s a boy, mom and dad!”
Her words sink in and you start sobbing - a little boy!
Your husband’s big hand is cradled over your head and the baby’s on your chest, bloody and scrunched up and crying. Your own hands automatically come up to cradle him, your lips pressing against the top of his head. “A boy! Oh my god, Drei, a little boy,” you sob to him, laughing into Andrei’s mouth when he kisses you.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says shakily, his cheeks wet. “A son. Solnyshka, thank you. He’s - thank you. Fuck, I love you so much.”
Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours on the baby’s back and you’re jolted by how warm his hand is compared to yours, you’re shaking and freezing, but all you can focus on is how happy you are.
The baby’s cries taper off and he nuzzles against your chest, your heart melting at how perfect and adorable he is.
“He looks like the girls,” Andrei comments, unable to stop staring. His fingers stroke over the baby’s back, your own trembling with the adrenaline come down.
You laugh. “They all look like you, babe. My genes never stood a chance,” you can’t stop smiling, pressing your lips all over the baby’s head. He’s so warm against your chest.
You’re not sure how long you get to keep the baby on your chest, but the next thing you know, you’re in recovery, dozing while you watch Andrei hold his son. The baby is a big one, like you’d expected, weighing in at a sold nine pounds, eleven ounces. Your entire lower body is still throbbing with pain, but it’s all so worth it to see Andrei with the baby cradled in his arms.
“Four kids and I still can’t believe he’s real,” Andrei chuckles hoarsely, gazing down at the baby with shiny eyes.
“Oh, I can believe it,” you reply dryly, shifting with a wince. “I feel like we should’ve been more prepared with boy names.”
You’d run through the list of the few that you had liked, but none seem right. His middle name will be for Andrei, but the first name is stumping you both.
“We’ll figure it out,” Andrei looks up at you with a grin. “I love you so much, I said that, right?”
“Several times,” you hold out your arms and wiggle your fingers at him. “Give me back my baby, Drei.”
Andrei transfers the baby to you with the ease of a practiced parent, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You’re both exhausted and it’s so early in the morning the sun isn’t even up yet. You’ll have to pass out soon, but right now you can’t get enough of the infant. He looks so much smaller when he was in Andrei’s arms. You trace over the slope of his nose with the tip of your index finger, seeing so much of the girls and Andrei in his features. “You sure you don’t want to name him after your dad?” You ask, double checking.
“No, no,” Andrei shakes his head. “Geno has that covered. Besides,” his lips twist up in an impish little smile, “Igor’s not my favorite name.”
You know he’s thinking about the Canes’ most recent loss to the Rangers in the second round of the playoffs. The Rangers getting swept in the ECF had been extremely satisfying in your house.
You giggle a little and watch as the baby yawns. He’s been quiet, sleeping on and off, so much more peaceful than his older sisters. “Okay, I get it. You know, my grandfather, his name was Demetrius. A few letter changes…Dimitri?”
Andrei’s knuckle brushes against the soft pudge of the baby’s cheeks and murmurs the name. “Dimitri,” it sounds so different, so much better in his accent, “Dimka.”
He yawns in your arms and it feels like something clicks into place in your chest. You nod at Andrei, “that’s it. That’s his name.”
“Dimitri Andreievich,” Andrei laughs as he says the name. “Big name for a little boy.”
“He’s almost ten pounds,” you scoff. “This is a gift from the Big Boy genes, oh husband of mine.”
He smirks at you, leaning in for a kiss and your poor battered vagina gives a weak throb of pain. It’s too soon for him to be this adorable.
After a solid three hours of sleep, broken up once so you can try feeding Dimitri, you start pestering Andrei for your sushi. It’s nearing eight in the morning on the nineteenth, making it nearly twenty-four hours since you had breakfast with the girls before coming to the hospital.
“What about anything else?” He frowns at you. “Sushi for breakfast is…” He trails off, wrinkling his face in disgust.
With the baby latched to a nipple, you pout at him. “Did I or did I not push your giant child out of my body?” You pause to inhale and then continue, “And! Since it was already this morning before someone thought to feed me, all I’ve eaten in twenty four hours is ice chips and a peanut butter sandwich. I am starving!”
Andrei laughs at you, but before he can answer, gets distracted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s probably Elena, looking for an update since you hadn’t called anyone in the early hours after Dimitri had been born, exhausted and looking to soak in the time as a trio. You turn your attention to the baby while Andrei chats in Russian on the phone. He hangs up and sits down on the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around your knee. “Mama says the girls are going wild, waiting to hear about their new baby,” he grins toothily. “Can sushi wait? I think maybe I’ll go get the girls to introduce them to their brother.”
“Natives are restless?” You ask, the guilt of being away from the girls, even for a day, even to literally give birth, starting to creep in. Tears well in your eyes and you don’t bother to do anything about it, knowing you’re going to be a weepy mess for the foreseeable future. “How do you feel about meeting the big sisters, D?”
Dimitri lets out a soft little baby squeak and you give Andrei a watery grin. “I think he likes that plan. Bring me my girls.”
In the time that Andrei’s gone, Dimitri naps in his little plastic bassinet and you get helped into the bathroom by your nurse, ready to sit with the girls as long as their attention spans can handle it. You brush your hair back into a neater braid and wash your face clean of sweat. By the time that Andrei texts that he’s parking, you feel a little more human.
You can hear little footsteps running down the hall and you rub a hand over Dimitri’s belly, “get ready for Hurricane Svechnikova, bub.”
“Mama!” Evie bursts through the door first, hair in two pigtails on the top of her head and a bright red tutu around her waist. You beam at the sight of her and open your arms.
“Hi, bunny,” you coo, emotions clogging up your throat. “Come give me a hug!”
She dances over to your side and clambers up on the bed, nearly smacking you in the face with a piece of construction paper and jostling you a little painfully. You wrap her up in a tight hug, inhaling her little-kid scent of markers and Johnson and Johnson shampoo. Over her shoulder, you see Alina skip into the room and you hold open one arm.
“My Alya,” you grin. “Come join Mama.”
She’s in a Canes giveaway t-shirt that you’d cut down so it wasn’t a literal dress on her and you briefly wonder how wild they were being if this is how they ended up dressed. Alina needs a little help getting up on the bed and as Evie is pulling at the back of her shirt, Andrei appears at the door, Kira on his hip and an exasperated frown on his face.
“Didn’t Papa tell you not to run?” He raises an eyebrow at the older girls cuddled against your sides.
“We missed Mama,” Evie replies, pouting. You smooth a hand over her hair and shake your head at Andrei. They don’t need a parenting moment right now. Kira wiggles in his arms and reaches for you until Andrei relents and settles her on your lap in a way that doesn’t cause you pain. None of the girls have even so much as looked at the baby, but you’re not rushing them, knowing it’s a big change for them.
Andrei settles on the little couch while the girls fill you in on all the fun they had with the grandparents yesterday. They make Andrei bring you the bag of pictures they drew for you and the baby and that seems to trigger them. “Oh! Wait, Mama,” Evie perks up and looks around, “where’s the baby?”
You laugh and point at the plastic bassinet, “your little brother is right there. Just waiting to meet you three.”
Like it was rehearsed, all three of them scramble to the side of the bed to get a good look at Dimitri.
“He’s a boy?” Alina asks, squinting down at him.
“We have a brother? Not a sister?” Evie carefully reaches a hand into the bassinet to touch one of Dimitri’s tiny feet. “I thought it was a sister.”
“Baby!” Kira pats the edge of the plastic. “Baby in Mama’s belly?”
You kiss the back of her head. “Yeah, this is the baby that was in Mama’s tummy. His name is Dimitri.”
Andrei comes over to lift Kira and Alina into his arms so they can get a better look at the baby. “It’s different, right, to have a brother?” He asks, looking at you softly. You know he wouldn’t have cared if the baby were a girl, but there’s something about men and their sons, and you’re beyond happy that you were able to give him that.
“He’s not going to do much for a while,” you say. “But when he gets moving, I bet you’re all going to have a lot of fun.”
“Mmm,” Evie hums thoughtfully. “Boys are kinda yucky.”
“I’m a boy!” Andrei gasps, mock offended. “Am I yucky?”
You shoot him a wicked smile over Evie’s head and mouth ‘filthy’ at him, surprised that you even have it in you to flirt with him. Andrei laughs, his eyes sparkling, and you both nearly miss it when Evie chirps, “yeah, ‘cause sometimes you’re smelly after hockey.”
You snort a laugh and then, sensing that he’s missing some kind of party, Dimitri stirs, making little noises and wiggling his arms and legs. The girls watch, fascinated, and you skirt around Evie so you can pick him up. You glance at the clock on the wall and it’s been close to two and a half hours since you fed him, so he’s probably hungry. He starts to fuss more and the girls look a little disgruntled by the noise, so before they start complaining, you pucker up and plant a smacking kiss to Evie’s cheek, making her giggle. “How about Papa brings you guys back home so you can play and don’t have to watch me change any stinky diapers? Then you can come back later with Nana and Pop and Babu and Dedu? You can introduce them all to your new brother,” you grin, adding more excitement and animation to your tone so they’ll get excited too.
“You’re sure?” Andrei asks, even as your two middle kids are fighting in his arms, chattering at each other over who touched who. He’d scooped them off the bed as soon as Alina started poking at Kira to see how close she could get the former baby of the family to the edge of the bed without pushing her off. The noise they’re making is starting to agitate Dimitri and you’re very sure. Andrei himself looks a little frazzled with the girls practically shrieking in his ears.
“Go ahead,” you widen your eyes at him. “We’ll, ah, we’ll do a little more sibling bonding later in the day. D and I aren’t going anywhere.”
Andrei looks conflicted about leaving you, but honestly, Alina and Kira’s fighting is starting to give you a little bit of a headache. Dimitri is fussing more and you don’t want to start feeding him with the girls in the room because that opens up all the “whys” and “what are you doings” that the girls are so prone to these days.
Evie’s tucked against your side, looking down at the baby. She sighs and looks up at Andrei, “he’s so loud. Let’s come back when he’s quiet.”
Andrei’s mouth tips up in a half smile and you manage a weak laugh, reflexively holding out a hand to guide Evie when she half rolls, half climbs off the bed and beelines for the door. She waves over her shoulder and chirps a blithe, “bye Mommy, bye baby brother.”
“I think she’s expecting you to follow her,” you say to Andrei, a little wide eyed at your oldest’s actions. Securing Dimitri in one arm, you wave the other at the door, “go, please! Before she gets kidnapped!”
“Right, yeah,” Andrei nods and bounces the girls in his arms, “say bye to Mama. We’ll see her later, okay?”
Taking a little break from fighting, Alina and Kira wave at you over Andrei’s shoulders, blowing kisses. You wave back and then practically deflate when the door shuts behind Andrei and you’re left alone with the now opening crying Dimitri. You sigh and get him adjusted on your breast, quieting him immediately. You rub tiredly at your eyes, frustrated and exhausted. Maybe you’d underestimated the chaos four kids are going to be.
Once Dimitri is finished eating, you call for a nurse to bring him back to the nursery so you can get some much needed sleep. “I always feel bad sending them to the nursery,” you confess to the nurse, Jenna. “It makes me feel like a bad mom.”
“Sweetheart,” she laughs warmly, “I saw that husband of yours head out of here with your little girls. Sleep as much as you can before going home to that chaos.”
“They’re usually much better behaved,” you say wryly. “New sibling apparently throws off the routine.”
She tucks Dimitri into a swaddle and says, “oh, they get used to it. You two are old pros at this, so I think you know what you’re doing.”
You smile warily at her, a nervous pit in your stomach that you hadn’t felt after any of the girls’ births. You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled now, raising a boy in the early infancy stage isn’t any different than raising daughters. When Jenna takes Dimitri back to the nursery, you slide down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and getting as comfortable as possible to take a nap. A few tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down your temples and into your hair and you take a deep breath. It catches in your throat a little and you hiccup, covering your eyes with a cold, shaky palm.
Somehow, you manage to nap on and off, dozing in that weird limbo where you can hear most of what’s happening around you, but time passes faster than you think. After what feels like two minutes, but is actually closer to two hours, you give up on the nap and find your phone in the mess on the bedside table. You busy yourself with responding to texts and scrolling through social media, zoning out to a video of a woman making homemade pop tarts when Andrei appears at the door.
“Delivery,” he announces, your head shooting up at the sound of his voice. In his hand is an obscenely large paper bag with the name of your favorite sushi place stamped on the side. He catches your gaze and shakes it enticingly. “Husband of the year, yes?”
“If there’s spicy tuna in there, I’ll get the trophy engraved now,” you tease, a small, but genuine smile on your face. Andrei kisses the corner of your mouth and sets the bag on the rolling table.
“Two spicy tuna and plenty of miso soup,” he promises, sitting down on the mattress and helping you unpack the plastic containers.
You rub your chopsticks together and ask, “how are the girls? Everything okay at home?”
Andrei’s in different clothes than when he left and he smells like soap and cologne, so you know he at least showered when he got home.
“They’re good, don’t worry about them,” he reassures you, passing over a container of seaweed salad. “Kir was down for a nap when I left and our moms were playing Barbies with the older two.”
You nod, poking at the seaweed with a lazy motion. Andrei’s gaze is steady on your bent head, you can feel his eyes studying you and so you eat a mouthful of the seaweed, chewing slowly. As hungry as you had been earlier, it’s hard to swallow now. Andrei’s knee bumps yours and you look up at him, worried brown eyes on yours.
“What’s going on, solnyshka? Are you okay?” He ducks his head so he can maintain eye contact. One of his hands comes up and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch and shrug.
“I’m okay,” you sigh. “Just…”
Andrei’s quiet while you try and find the words. You’re not even sure what you’re feeling, why you’re so overly emotional.
“I missed the girls,” you say quietly. “But, four kids? It just…this isn’t going to be easy at all, Drei. They all started chattering and Dimitri was crying and I just wanted to cry too.”
“He’s not even a day old,” Andrei says gently. “It’s okay you’re emotional. I’ll tell you a secret,” he laughs under his breath, “I cried in the car when I went to get the girls.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, setting your chopsticks down. Andrei’s not usually one to admit to crying.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Probably more because we have a son, but still. I cried.” Andrei winks at you, smiling warmly.
A little laugh slips past your lips and you tug at the end of your braid. “I think I’ll be okay once I get into a routine. But I’m glad the moms are staying until the season starts, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
Andrei scoffs and moves to sit next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders so you can burrow against his side. “You’re the rock, koroleva. If anyone can handle me, four kids, and the hockey season, it’s you,” he praises you, mouth pressed against your temple. “Just tell me if you’re overwhelmed, okay? We figure it out as a team.”
You nod against his side, the knot in your chest loosening a bit. Your arm rests on his stomach and Andrei keeps you as close as possible, knowing you need the physical comfort right now. “We’re so done having kids, by the way,” you mutter into his shirt.
Andrei laughs and your whole body vibrates with the sound. He rubs his hand up and down your arm, teasing, “Dimka and I are still outnumbered.”
“Oh, that is not something I care about,” you laugh in response, snaking your hand out to pluck a piece of sushi out of its container. “We’re closed for business down there.” You pause and then continue, knowing Andrei will have a retort. “For baby making business. Other fun activities will be reevaluated at six weeks.”
Your husband gives you a mock little salute, amusement written plainly on his face. He picks up his own piece of sushi with his free hand, popping the piece in his mouth and chewing before he says, quietly and totally sincerely, “you’re the best mom the kids could’ve asked for, you know that, right?”
“You’re going to make me cry again, you big jerk,” you sniffle, pressing a hand to your mouth. “I just finished crying!”
“I’m sorry,” Andrei cuddles you closer. “Eat and rest, because the moms are not going to want to wait too much long to meet the little guy.”
You pull back a little so look up at Andrei’s face and he has a slightly dopey look in his eyes, a little upturn to his lips like he’s trying to fight off a smile. “You want to go get him, don’t you?” You ask, exhaling a little laugh through your nose.
Andrei nods eagerly, unable to hide his excitement. “Yeah,” he admits, “I know we should rest, but I really want to keep holding him.”
“Go get him,” you say, “I kind of want to get a hit of that newborn smell.”
“Weirdo,” Andrei captures your chin in his fingers and tilts your head up to kiss you sweetly.
You grin against his mouth, “your weirdo and mother to your weird children too.”
Andrei’s laugh follows him all the way out the door.
163 notes · View notes
Curious on how the Pleiades interact with Flower of Nazarick Mc.
I've already done Entoma and Solution but here are the others! 🖤🖤🖤
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Flower of Nazarick Reader with Pleiades | Yandere Overlord
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Sebas Tian
“Master (Y/n)!”
“Oh hi Sebas…I seem to be in a predicament.”
“Master…how did you get yourself trapped in the wall?”
 I figured out I could phase through things but then I somehow just stopped…But I’ll get out eventually! I'll just be here for a while.”
“I see. Would you like anything while you wait?”
“Hmm, can I get a–”
He finds you oh-so-precious 
He just so happens to witness some of your weirdest and vulnerable moments
Internally he’s the happiest dragon butler there can be 
He absolutely lives for the times you first discover different parts of Nazarick
When you aren’t training or being babysat by Albedo you’ll be doing your own thing
Sometimes monitored by him and the Pleiades
And the way he’s bared witness to your general silliness is a blessing to him
As much as he’ll preach to Yuri about their job to ‘raise’ you right he too will sway with a bat of your eyes
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Yuri Alpha
“Come Master (Y/n). Lord Ainz summons you.”
“So early? Can’t he just wait a few more hours….”
“He’s already been waiting Master (Y/n). Please wake up”
“..”
“...Master. Master? I apologize in advance.”
"Blagh!!!"
Because the floor guardians tend to spoil you to bits no one’s all too keen on actually making you do anything
But with Ainz’s permission, she takes it upon herself to be some kind of disciplinarian
…a disciplinarian whose authority sways with her admiration
She’s well aware that you are a Supreme being in training 
So she regales you with tales of the supreme beings who ran Nazarick in hopes of inspiring your greatness
Any kind of decision or even a break in your casual tone with the Pleiades she’s swooning with a blush
She can’t believe her Nazarick’s flower is growing well and will one day be fit to rule alongside Ainz
She will personally take over anyone she deems too forward with you
Whether in disguise or not you happen to be way too flippant about your importance to Nazarick
So until you take the proper discretion to threaten those who disrespect you she’ll do it in the meantime 
With extreme prejudice
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Lupisregina Beta
“Ah! Master I’ve never tasted something so wonderful!”
“Gee, thanks it’s a favorite of mine back where I’m from!”
“Hmmm~Learning about my Supreme Flower is the best!”
“Ah haha, LP make sure to chew your food before you speak.”
“Ack-! A nickname I’m dying!”
One of the most fun Pleiades to hang out with 
Unless given specific instructions she’s all about fun
And she adores how you just want to have fun with her too
That often doesn’t mean being in Nazarick which means you’ll be going a little outside their perimeter
That’s where you’ll probably get to see just how little Lupusregina cares for anyone who is not you
You’ll have to stop her from turning invisible to silently slash away anyone who could take your time from her
She’s not good at filling in the blanks so you’ll have to be very specific
Otherwise, you might just find any place you visit to be a graveyard
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Narberal Gamma
“Psst Nabarel…you’re scaring everyone away. I’m supposed to blend in.”
“My apologies Master. It’s just these dirty humans dare look at you so casually I feel inclined to–”
“Nabarel.”
“Right sorry.”
This whole pretending to hide among the humans thing has gotten on her nerves
To see Ainz be treated so flippantly by worthless beings no less
It doesn’t help when the prized Flower of Nazarick occasionally does the same thing
And while she might have the restraint to behave around Ainz
She slips a lot more around you
Glaring more openly at anyone who even looks at you
She won’t even let anyone put a friendly hand on your back
She’s breaking bones if they get too close
But if you bat your eyes and smile sweetly she’ll snap it back
She won’t apologize though
Not for hurting them or endangering their life
Disguise or not she refuses to accept lower-life forms even getting within your vicinity
But she can’t deny the pride and excitement when you allow her to wait on you
Taking a break from her stupid disguise to return to serving you makes it a little bit better
Though she much prefers you stay within Nazarick
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CZ2128 Delta
“Master (Y/n).”
“Yes, Delta?” 
“May I hold you?”
“Uh, sure?”
“Thank you, Master!”
She thinks you’re so so so so so so cute
She thinks she might short-circuit from cuteness
In her mind, you rival Eclair Eklair Eklare (The penguin Janitor)
If you give her permission to hold you she may never want to let go
But if it bothers you
She’ll settle by resting her head on your lap
Or holding onto any part of your person
She’s not as violent as the other Pleiades when it comes to protecting you but that doesn’t mean she won’t hurt anyone for you
If any creature divides her attention from you she’ll smite them quickly
And then try to get praise from you
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dark666posting · 4 months
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Stress Relief
Innocent!Virgin!Reader x Dark!Eddie Munson
TW: NON CON, NON CON!!********
It's been a long week. College enrollment on top of job searching isn't boding well for Eddie. You notice he's been on edge for the past few days and it's only getting worse as time goes on. He's lashed out at almost everybody but you, including his band and DnD club members.
The others ask you what Eddie's damage is, but you're as clueless as they are. Knowing how sensitive you are, you decide to keep a little distance between yourself and Eddie, certain you'd cry if he were to snap at you. He's only ever done it once before when you accidentally dropped his guitar while it was in his case. You were helping unload for a show and he went off. It makes you embarrassed to remember, so you'd rather not repeat it.
That wishful thinking doesn't last long. You get out of your last class a little later than usual, not realizing your presentation went over the time limit. Eddie, who is usually your ride home, taps his foot impatiently in the parking lot.
"Hey, Eddie! Sorry I'm late, we-"
"Don't worry. No one's day moves unless you say so, princess." He huffs, looking straight ahead, avoiding looking at you at all.
"Eddie... I'm sorry." You stand with the door open, unsure if you're still welcome in his van if he's this upset with you.
"Are you just gonna stand there? Is it not enough that I waited for you, we gotta waste some more time?" He tosses his hands up and your mouth hangs slightly open in shock. He's never been this kind of person, he must be going through a lot. You feel terrible for him, it must be hard. You quickly climb into the passenger seat and he sighs an exasperated "Finally."
"Eddie," you try to get him to talk to you. You're hoping you can help get to the bottom of all his stressors.
"What, Y/N?" He pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb as if he's already more annoyed than he's ever been. It makes you feel small.
"A-Are you okay? I know you've been stressed and I-"
"Oh, you know I've been stressed? Thank you, Y/N, for having eyes," he laughs through the anger. "What if instead of pretending to be my therapist, you just sit there quietly while I give you another free ride home?"
You gasp, unsure what you did to warrant this kind of treatment from him. You turn your attention to the road ahead as you try to hold back your tears. Your unsteady breaths are as quiet as you can keep them, but he hears you anyway. When he glances over and sees the tears finally overflow past your lashes, he sighs, shaking his head. You feel humiliated. Unbeknownst to you, and honestly news to him, seeing you cry makes him... Incredibly aroused.
Eddie delivers you to your house and speeds off before you can thank him or apologize or anything. You feel a hollow in your stomach. You don't want to lose your best friend, but you're far too sensitive to be talked to like that. You disappear to your room to cry and change into your pajamas. You plan on spending the entire rest of the day and night in bed.
You're relaxing in your room, listening to your favorite Blondie cassette, and getting ready for bed. You had half expected Eddie to call, but he doesn't. You know you'd forgive him in an instant if he'd just call. You turn off the lamp on your nightstand and settle into your plush, pink bed. Sleep takes no time to find you, you're drifted off into a deep slumber in just a few minutes.
In fact, you're sleeping so deeply, you don't notice the sound of your window being jostled open. A cool, nighttime breeze wafts through your room as a curly-haired figure climbs through. Eddie carefully closes the window and steps toward you where you sleep. He hoped you'd be awake, but he's not sure why. He didn't plan on apologizing to you. He stares at you for a while, reaching into his pants to palm himself over his boxers.
"Fuck," he whispers. Eddie didn't realize what it would do to him to see you laying braless in your skimpy, pink silk pajamas, surrounded by your pink and white bed set. You're like an angel. All he can think about is how pretty your crying face looked earlier today. The cool breeze from the open window has hardened your nipples under your top and Eddie can't help but rub his thumb over them gently. They become even more pebbled from his touch.
Eddie stifles a laugh of disbelief as he watches the rosy blush rise in your cheeks. As if no longer in control of his actions, Eddie unfastens his belt and frees his erection that's straining against his boxers. He inhales sharply through his teeth as he strokes his shaft a few times before taking your sleeping hand and limply wrapping it around his length. He strokes himself with your hand for a while before becoming a little bolder as his arousal swells.
Carefully, Eddie takes your head to the side and gently slips his tip past your lips. The wetness of your tongue is enough to send him over the edge, but he holds back. That's it, he's caving. He throws his shirt off of himself and dips into your bed beside you. Instinctively, you cuddle your back into him, subconsciously brushing your ass against his exposed cock.
Eddie reaches between your legs to strategically rub your clit so you'd already be wet for him. You're sound asleep, but moaning like a whore being filled from every angle. He's mind blown hearing your innocent lips release such vulgar whines. He whips your shorts and panties off with ease and positions himself at your dripping hole. Just as he slips it in, your eyes shoot open as the stretching pain tears you from your sleep.
Your fight or flight response tries to carry you away, but Eddie's grip around you tightens. He continues rutting into you, releasing sensual deep breaths down your body.
"Shhh, baby. You're okay. You're okay," he whispers sweetly as if he's not forcing himself inside you.
"Eddie?!" You gasp in disbelief and betrayal. "Eddie, please! It hurts!"
"Shut the fuck up." He grips your hair, pulling your head back so he can watch the tears well in your eyes.
"Eddie!"
"What's wrong with you? Just help me destress a little, okay? That's what friends do," he coos in your ear, not letting up.
"But... It.. hurts..." You sob.
"Why the fuck does it hurt so bad? You're not a virgin are you?" Eddie furrows his brow, unsure how you of all people could go this long without having sex. You are gorgeous, after all.
You don't reply, letting Eddie know that yes, you are. Well, were. Tears fall down your face as you close your eyes. At first, he feels bad, but it quickly fuels his fire when he thinks about the way he's ruined you for anyone else. He picks up his pace, breaking your heart further as you watch him relish in robbing you of your virginity.
Eddie withdraws from you for only a moment before climbing on top of you and forcing your legs open in front of him. He slams back into you, stimulating your clit with his thumb. You brace yourself by holding into the bars of your brass headboard while he fucks into you with no emotion, no love, only anger, and lust.
Eddie feels his climax coming so he places a firm palm over your lower abdomen as he fucks you. The new friction builds an orgasm in you at an inhuman pace.
"Don't cum until I tell you," he demands dryly.
"Eddie, please stop..."
"Don't. Cum." You try to do as he says, fighting for your life to withhold your orgasm before he allows you to climax. His thrusts are rough and mean, feeling as if he's tearing you apart from the inside.
"Now," he breathes, allowing you to release. You flood him where he stands when you release, drenching your pretty little, pink, gingham bed set. Eddie pulls out and strokes himself, cumming all over your face and chest. He's breathless, staring at you with a smile. Something he thought he'd never see is his innocent best friend covered in his cum.
"E-Eddie..." You sob, staring at him through one eye as the other is covered with the evidence of Eddie's visit. "What did I do?" You sob.
"Shhh, shhh. You did amazing. Don't cry, look how much you enjoyed it." He touches the drenched blankets and traces his fingers up your legs. You shudder, pulling away from his touch.
"You... I didn't..." You try to find your words.
"Don't start acting like you're too good for it now. I'll be seeing you next week, okay? This is how you're gonna help me manage all this stress." He starts getting dressed, leaving you filthy and fucked out.
"I-I don't want to..."
"Oh, please. You're not gonna make your best friend suffer like this, are you? Besides, you don't really have a choice, do you?" He smiles at you, warmly. It's confusing and unsettling.
The rest of the week, Eddie seems completely back to normal. He's mended things with all his friends. You watch them in the lunchroom as you contemplate eating lunch outside or in a bathroom instead of taking your trademark seat right next to your best friend. Eddie catches your eye and waves you over. You do as you're told, why do you do that?
You flinch as you try to sit too fast, still healing from the internal thrashing given to you by Eddie. He smirks as he watches you avoid eye contact. He'll be sure to address that at your next session.
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sister-lucifer · 1 year
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The Demon Brothers + Punishment (Part 1)
PART TWO HERE
Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan x Gender Neutral Reader (separately)
Genre: NSFW Headcanons
Summary: How and why the older brothers would go about punishing you 
Content/Warnings: dom/sub dynamic with sub reader, spanking, toys, degradation, fingering, overstim, y’know the usual punishment stuff 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors
Lucifer 
He low key takes it too seriously 
Very stern but gentle 
(Unless he’s particularly angry of course) 
“You know why I’m punishing you, yes? I need you to learn from your mistakes, my love, that’s what good little pets do.” 
The severity of the punishment depends on the offense you committed 
Something small will likely result in him making you cum on his fingers after you’ve apologized profusely 
Then he’ll treat you to his cock 
But when you mess up big time 
Ooooh boooy 
That sadism really comes out 
Collars, leashes, handcuffs, you name it he’ll use it 
He needs to be in a particular mood for his sadism to come out, but when it does it’s all or nothing 
He’ll either be kissing your forehead gently or pushing you down with a foot on your chest while he toys with the remote of a vibrator 
No in between 
He’s actually not super into spanking. Although he’s not opposed to it, it’s not his go-to 
He finds there are plenty of other, more humiliating ways to teach you a lesson 
And he intends to show you all of them 
“Now, now, no whining. You did this to yourself, my dear. Take your punishment now, or else you’ll only make your situation even more dire.”
Mammon 
As much as Mammon likes to play rough with you, rarely ever will he actually punish you 
He prefers to be playful, if a bit mean spirited at times 
You’ll often have a couple of bruises or bites, but that’s to be expected; usually nothing more 
So, what exactly merits a punishment from Mammon? 
Well, the first option is to ask for it
He’ll happily oblige, but he’ll start slow in the beginning and ask you if you’re okay at least four times before he actually gets going 
The other option is to make him jealous 
If he sees you getting a little too friendly with another demon he’s sure to lose it 
Drag it out for as long as you can 
That’ll make him even angrier 
Double points if you act oblivious about it later 
The second you’re home alone he’s bending you over his lap and spanking you until itll hurt to sit down for the next two days 
And he’ll make you apologize after each one 
When he decides he’s had enough with that he’ll move on to roughly shoving his fingers in you 
He’s going much too fast, but he doesn’t care 
You deserve it for pissing him off like that 
And he’ll talk down to you the entire time, making sure you’ve been thoroughly humiliated 
“This is what little sluts like you get for acting out! Maybe next time you think of pulling a stunt like that you’ll remember how this feels.”
Leviathan 
Oh this sweet baby loves you far too much to hurt you! 
Punishments are so incredibly rare with Levi 
You could ask, yes, but he’ll be so nervous there’s only a half chance he’ll actually go through with it 
“O-Oh my stars, are you ok?! I-I know, I know I haven’t actually done anything yet, but…gah! I’m just so worried about you!” 
Sweet boy 
That means your only option is to earn your punishment 
The best way to do that is to get him on a day when he’s already mad about something 
Maybe Mammon stole one of his figurines to sell, or maybe he’s frustrated about a certain level of a game 
That’s the best time to misbehave 
Leviathan is rather possessive, even more so that Mammon, so the same tactics would work on him tenfold 
Leviathan usually isn’t very active in his punishments 
Instead he’ll tie you up on his bed and leave you squirming with at least three vibrators assaulting your sex 
He’ll have the remotes with him at all times, but after a while of playing with them he’ll just leave them on the maximum speed while he ignores you to game 
And he can get very, very invested in his games 
You might be there for thirty minutes, maybe three hours 
Depends on how he feels and how invested he gets 
One things for sure, he’s not done with you until you’re practically thrashing against your restraints as you desperately try to quell the overstimulation 
“You sound pathetic, whining like that…this is what happens when you underestimate me, human! This is all your fault…”
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falkarph · 4 months
Text
ELDEN RING STARTERS
rp prompts taken from the video game elden ring by fromsoftware. some have been edited.
❛ death has left its mark once again. ❜ ❛ the talk, i surmise, is of you. ❜ ❛ i feel as if i've been in your debt from beginning to end. ❜ ❛ don't you dare. unless you want to die like a dog. ❜ ❛ not only are you incompetent, but shameless to boot. ❜ ❛ i apologise for any offence given by my bearing, but i'm quite unable to move, you see. ❜ ❛ i just wanted to get the apology out of the way, beforehand. since you're so scary and all. ❜ ❛ oh, my dear... had a change of heart already? ❜ ❛ i see. then you must kill me. ❜ ❛ beautifully fought. my thanks, 'twas more of a challenge than i envisioned. ❜ ❛ i want to be like everyone else, but i'm just too scared. ❜ ❛ are you so far out of your mind with fear... you've divested yourself of all reason? ❜ ❛ it is safe here. you may let down your guard. ❜ ❛ you are fated, it seems, to die in obscurity. ❜ ❛ someone must extinguish your flame. ❜ ❛ i suppose you'd like to know then? what awaits you on the path ahead? ❜ ❛ you will witness true horror. ❜ ❛ forgive me, i've been ... testing you. ❜ ❛ no secrets lie with me, not a one. ❜ ❛ you, yeah, you there! stop pretending you can't see me. ❜ ❛ you bloody halfwit. picking a fight with a dragon? ❜ ❛ a man cannot kill a god. ❜ ❛ perhaps it is foolish to say this to you of all people, but i am sure of my skill with the sword. ❜ ❛ if it's on the cards, i'd be glad to meet again. ❜ ❛ though the suffering cannot be undone, i can still mete out justice. ❜ ❛ never met someone with a taste for crab i couldn't trust. ❜ ❛ and when the fighting is done, then you may lay me to rest. ❜ ❛ honestly, i don't know what's going on anymore ... ❜ ❛ i know... i'm asking you to commit a cardinal sin. ❜ ❛ the depths of wickedness never fail to surprise me. ❜ ❛ perhaps before my departure, i needed someone to say farewell to. ❜ ❛ i always resented these hands. their pale complexion, a far cry from any warrior's. ❜ ❛ tell me a story... about the big, wide world... ❜ ❛ kill me, please... ❜ ❛ i hope you understand the weight of my words. ❜ ❛ what are you waiting for? a kiss goodbye? ❜
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stars-and-inkpots · 6 months
Note
hey! could you write a little something based on our wizards fav line "if I don't get my beauty sleep soon, i might get just a tad malcontent" - tired cranky wizard ftw! 🤣
absolutely i can! (i hear this line a lot given my tendency to do absolutely everything i can before long resting even though i very much do not need to) thank you for this idea! hope you enjoy!
Beauty Sleep | Gale x Reader
You forget that not everyone is used to so much travelling in one day. Gale is more than eager to remind you that some people would very much enjoy some rest, and soon.
Pairing: Gale/Reader
Tags: Cuddling, fluff
Word Count: 583
All things considered, Gale did try to keep his complaints to a minimum. He understood that things had to get done, and that you had to make the most of the day’s limited hours. It was, however, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the exhaustion that was steadily consuming him. 
“We should rest these weary bones of ours soon,” Gale says to you as you walk. The rest of the group has started to slow, but the sun is still high enough in the sky that it would be too early yet to retire for the night. 
“Soon enough,” you answer. You can hear Gale’s disappointed huff, but he says nothing more. You continue on. The day has mostly been mapping out the forest, gathering supplies and clearing the path for tomorrow when you planned to move camp. It’s given you little trouble, only a few gnolls to be dealt with which was only a minor inconvenience at best. 
“We should rest soon. It’s hard to save the world while you’re stifling yawns,” Gale speaks up again after another hour. This time, the group seems to share his opinion, though none of them voice this. 
“We’ll return to camp soon. I want to explore just a little further; it will make the trip tomorrow easier.” You watch as Gale, clearly disappointed with this answer, sighs but continues to walk beside you. He trusts your judgement, and knows that you have the group's best interest at heart. “I promise we’ll return soon, my love,” you say quietly. The pet name eases the ire that grows with the pain in his knees. 
The sun has well begun its journey towards the horizon by the time Gale speaks up again. His patience, as boundless as it is, is truly beginning to wane. 
“If I don’t get my beauty sleep soon, I might just get a tad malcontent.” His tone is short and clipped, exhaustion leaving him increasingly irate. 
You smile despite yourself; as bad as you feel for the clear discomfort of the wizard, his use of the phrase ‘beauty sleep,’ you must admit, is a little funny. “Yes, I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” You look back at the others. “That’s enough for today, let’s head back.” You turn back to Gale to add, much quieter, “I am sorry, truly. I forget that others aren’t used to travelling this much in a day. Could I make it up to you with a cuddle later? Unless you don’t wish me to interrupt your ‘beauty sleep,’ that is.” He knows you’re teasing him a little, but he’s inclined to let it slide when he notices the genuine care in your words. 
“I suppose I could accept such an apology. My rest could wait just a little longer, perhaps.” 
You’re relieved to see his smile return as you walk back to camp. 
You keep your word. Once everyone has eaten and gone to their respective tents, you meet Gale in his. 
Looking just as comfortable as he always does, Gale is waiting on his bedroll, already underneath the several blankets. When he sees you, he’s quick to pull them back to make room for you to fit yourself in beside him. You wrap your arms around him, and within minutes his breathing has evened out and you can hear the faint snores that let you know he’s found sleep. You press a quick kiss to the top of his head, then let yourself drift into unconsciousness as well.
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sugar-omi · 6 months
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jfc it's finally here... definitely didn't rewrite this twice. nope. not me :,)
we're gonna have to come back to omegaverse bc my little horny brain demons we're tell me too much abt this au!!!
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DAY FIFTEEN — OMEGAVERSE
*kinktober masterlist | *ao3
tags : NSFW, step 3, *fem/afab + masc/amab + gn/intersex reader, alpha cove firstz omega cove 2nd, alpha/omega reader, creampies/raw sex, mind break, somnophilia, breeding kink, (m)preg mention
*readers gender isn't specified. I wrote w intersex reader (& cove) in mind but scenario 1 could be fem/afab reader and scenario 2 masc/amab reader w intersex cove, or whatever you imagine.
synopsis : you and cove go into heat at the same time, and accidents happen, especially when you finally have your lover in your bed...
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ALPHA COVE
alpha!cove fucks like a dog.
i hope you're not wearing your favorite outfit or an expensive piece, because it doesn't make it outta your shared heat without a scratch.
it's even worse if you tease him. please don't do that to yourself..
he tries to be considerate, especially if the outfit is important or new. but when you're down to your underwear, well let's just say he's taking you to the store once your heat is over.
jfc he's so strong… don't matter what position you're in, his back is against you and he's growling and moaning in your ear and mumbling things to you, telling you how pretty you are and that you look best shaking on his knot.
wraps his arms around your waist and his hips are never far away before they're slamming against your tender ass, the clapping of skin loud and echoing in your ears until you're stuck on his knot and now you can finally hear him going, "pups… need to breed, mate.."
well it's not a far away dream, especially with how much he cums inside you.
when he finally pulls out your hole is gaping, your insides convulsing and clenching around nothing, forcing out all his cum… well now look what you've done, he has to put it all back…
unfortunately he's soft, a miracle really, but that just means he can finally taste you! first he fingers all that cum back into you and shoves his fingers down your throat. if you can't keep it in your cunt, then hold it in your mouth will you?
cove's already a beast when eating you out. but something about his rut makes him devour you.
his lips smacking loudly and you can fucking hear him lapping up all the slick and cum, his tongue scooping out your insides and you can't even move because he has his arms wrapped around your legs, keeping you there..
you come out marred like you got attacked by a rabid animal. which you did honestly, because cove kept nuzzling against your neck and mumbling about "mate" and "bond" and sometimes he even begged or fantasized in between rounds about biting your scent gland, claiming you as his..
it's a miracle you don't come out bonded, but you can thank your poor shoulder and the surrounding skin of your neck for that.
it's okay, he'll be pampering you for weeks, or at least until you can stand up straight and you can stop scooping cum out of your cunt… (don't complain about that unless youre ready for the consequences... the first time you did, he came over and fucked you again! as if you didn't just tell him your cunt is stupidly sensitive!)
but don't be mean to him! he gave you apology head for your sore pussy, didn't he?
(although he'll need to deliver a bigger apology if you come out pregnant.. you have permission to kick his ass to pluto this time &lt;/3)
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OMEGA COVE
you think alpha!cove is horny, but omega!cove is someone totally different…
for some reason he has no restraint, begs you to bite him and knot him, absolutely needs you to get him fuck him full of your cum, maybe even give him your pups?
fucks wildly like this is what he's been waiting for his whole life and is a total slut while doing it. if you wanted to get content for your camshow, this is the perfect time.
he pins you down and if he didn't need you to touch his chest for him, he'd tie you up. although, if you try to pull him off your dick one more time he will.
"alpha, alpha, alpha!" he whines and chants, his mind totally empty save for thoughts of you and sex. he doesn't waste energy on much else, anything besides filling up his womb with your cum is a distraction.
oh but if you're tired, please go to sleep! he'll take care of everything… i mean, you'll wake up with a sore dick and shooting blanks, but at least your omega is happy <3
even though you're tired, sore, and hungry, it's so worth it to wait until cove finishes.
his ass slapping against your thighs, his cunt leaking slick so bad it's running down your balls…
omega!cove begging you to bite him.. babbling loudly about how he wants to be one with you, how he needs you and your cock and he needs more.
and as much as you try to keep cool heads, you come out bonded.
he can't wait, and you're laying there, your glands exposing, just waiting for him to-
and that's how he wakes you up from your nap. and like any sane alpha, you bite him back.
at first he was crying because he didn't mean to bite you like that! please don't be mad…
but now he's crying because you've flipped him on his back, your knot tugging at his hole and your tip slamming perfectly into his cervix..
then he feels so much relief when you bite him back, your canines piercing the skin and he immediately pulls you into a kiss, ignoring the blood you're swapping with each other.
your parents are probably definitely mad that you came out bonded, but cove has been purring for days at the sight of his bond mark alone, so you can't complain.
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