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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months

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baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest.

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails.

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing.

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee.

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?”

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.”

“She is pretty adorable.”

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually.

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.”

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug.

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.”

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—”

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to.

“Is something wrong with my shirt?”

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise.

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip.

“Can we have one?”

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made.

“You--you mean like a baby?”

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes.

“I thought we were waiting on that.”

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.”

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.”

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!”

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.”

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve.

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—”

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—”

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense.

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter.

“What? What’s wrong?”

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect.

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.”

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.”

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes.

“You’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.”

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle.

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.”

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment.

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.”

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically.

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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stickiiy · 13 days

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nanami smut 18+

minors and ageless blogs dni. not proofread

five hours. your sweet fiancé has been gone for five hours. you should be used to this by now, but it's near impossible. especially when he's so tired when he comes back from work, especially when your core just aches for him, and only him

so in the depths of your bedroom...

"k-kennn... ken.." quiet and whiny pleads for nanami to be there with you fill the room. your hips continuously buck, dominant hand occupied down below in the pyjamas shorts that he bought for you. too well do you know your own body, so why can't you curl your fingers in the right places? why doesn't it feel as good unless he's the one doing it? "oh, god..."

you roll over on your side, your clammy free hand desperately reaching over for your phone. unbeknownst to him, a photo album that you keep all to yourself is the only thing you've got at the moment. filled to the brim with pictures, recordings that you took without his knowledge, the innocent voice messages he sends you that already had your pussy clenching around nothing.

for a moment, you still your fingers, shifting through the contents as you reach the bottom.

and there it is, the most recent addition, and your prized possession. your legs spread open on instinct, your shaky thumb finally pressing on the screen. right there and there, you could've came just from the sight if you didn't know better. a picture you took while pretending to be asleep, perfectly capturing him coming out of the bathroom, his hair down for once, chest and abs dripping with water, his bulge that wasn't even hard being oh so noticeable under his sweatpants... and you have to pretend to be asleep to see this?

you always wear the skimpiest outfits and loungewear you can around the house, so why does he feel the need to cover up?

"fuck, f-fuck..." immediately, your digits start to pump in and out of you, walls fluttering with insanity as your body can barely handle watching what's in front of you.

"faster..." he would never go faster and you know it, yet you still fuck yourself with a relentless pace, trying to reach that orgasm you should've had ages ago. mewls escape your lips, and you don't even bother to bite your lip anymore, to conceal your moans, because there was no point. "a-aah.. ah... faster, ken... mm~"

you didn't realise your phone had already shut off at this point, your eyes screwed shut as you tried to imagine something, anything to do with him. "mmph- ah!" after that short gasp, you couldn't even make any more noise, feeling your underwear, shorts, and the mattress below you start to grow damp. you squirted.

he wouldn't notice anything if you replaced the sheets, simply telling him that changing them a little more often would be cleaner. he wouldn't notice if you did your laundry two days early, hamper filled to the brim with wet, slick soaked panties. right?

aren't you just such a sweet fiancée, giving your future husband the perfect show from the camera in the corner of the bedroom. 'safety reasons' he said, but how can he not feel at least a little entertained when you get up to such mischief home alone?

#nanami smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami drabbles #nanami imagines #nanami headcanons #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons

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ch4mpagnedrought · 4 months

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friendly game

[full series]

mdni ! art, tashi, patrick

summary: pinning two of the greatest tennis players of our future will not work with you and tashi, in fact, you’ve learnt to share your prizes.

deep breaths. you take deep breaths when taking your racket out of its bag, all five fingers wrapping around the grip tightly, that is so intensely watched by two pairs of curious eyes from above in the stands, inaudibly gawking at the way your black tennis dress, sporting a small nike logo above your left breast, flourishes from around your thighs to expose the surfaces of your skin that don’t see the sun very often.

maybe the single most important game at the 2006 US open, between two upcoming tennis prodigies that also happen to be best friends. an oxymoron on the court really, tashi’s in white, you in black, her in adidas, you in nike, her hair in a tight braid, yours slicked into a low bun. eyes are torn completely apart as the both of you travel across the court, rebutting every single one of each others moves like a choreographed dance, the jaws of your audience slacked open. everybody remains paralysed, leaving the squeaks of your shoes and the heavy grunts of your labour to echo across the stands—until hands grip onto neighbouring knees and the final shot is swung.

“yes!” you shriek, throwing your racket to the ground in ecstasy, letting it bounce back behind you and the strings to shrivel from the force. from across the court, tashi heaves with squinted eyes, watching your celebration with parted lips and stepping closer to the net where you meet her—your arms wrapping around each others glistening shoulders and chests pressing firmly against one another, “good game” she tilts her head to whisper her appraisals and you hum a sweet note, flashing her a smile while the two men blink down at you. their minds completely empty apart from a state of euphoria, seeing two of the most beautiful women they had ever laid their eyes on embrace after a game that was essentially life or death. already replaying the erotic extensions of your legs at every side step, hips swivelling and slender arms extending to shape an image from within the deepest depths of their minds.

the same way that they stood completely still and fixated onto the images of you at the celebratory party hosted for you and tashi. the blonde haired boy taking sips of his drink between all the thoughts that expel from the image of you, mid underhand serve, and run through his mind. while the other faces an image of tashi, mid overhead, and tries not to make it obvious that his gaze slips into imagining anything other than what is underneath those clothes she endorses.

even when you notice their toying eyes, approaching you sat knee-to-knee with tashi at a table having just spent the last twenty minutes dancing with one another that hadn’t gone unnoticed by them either, “art donaldson and patrick zweig, right?” their eyes are momentary frozen wide before art exhales an exasperated breath, choking up on nothing. “in the flesh” patrick mumbles, fidgeting with the rim of his coke bottle. your eyes dart from one boy to another, left to right, both of their shoulders tensing as they watch tashi’s lips uncurl from the pink straw of her orange drink, guiding the bottle towards your own lips, pressing the straw into your mouth nonchalantly to share a sip of the beverage, and the sweetness of her lip gloss.

“that, that game…it was seriously breathtaking” art chokes out to the both of you, looking down admirably at you and noticing the small freckles the sun has peppered on your nose that hadn’t been visible from the top of the stands. tashi thanks him, putting the straw back into her own mouth and projecting a mental image of you and her swapping more than saliva into patrick’s mind.

his feet shuffle on the spot, shaking away the thought, “you dealt with the loss much better than i would’ve.” lightheartedly he jokes, gesturing towards tashi and sending her a small smile, “how do you two stay friends?”

“we’ve been friends since childhood,” tashi takes a glance at you, but you’re already looking back, “there’s no bad blood, we learn from eachother.” the palm of her hand flattens on your thigh momentarily, leaning back further into the couch. patrick and art huff, elbowing one another, “just like us.”

they flatter the two of you, showering you with compliments, all while trying to make it seem as if they hadn’t been discussing what exactly they would say to you for the past couple hours, until you and tashi were standing in front of their hotel room door, silently leaning closer to hear whatever was going on inside. “they don’t have time to come here” a muffled voice speaks from behind the door, and another groans loudly.

you and tashi share a small smirk, holding back laughter when she knocks on the door to hear a sudden ruckus.

“hi” “hey” they sing simultaneously, mouths agape like two little dogs, panting at the sight of a treat, or drooling at the ring of a bell. neither you nor tashi even have the time to greet them, patrick opening the door a little wider and beckoning you inside, coming together on the floor of the questionably coloured carpet with a single can of beer in the middle.

patrick leans back onto his hands. “so, when did you two become friends?” tashi points a finger between the two, wrapping her arms around her knees and tilting her head in curiosity. “we’ve been bunkmates since we were twelve” he answers, and art glances down at his crossed legs with a nervous smile. you nod your head, whispering a small “cute” under your breath and brushing patrick’s wrist with your fingers when taking the beer he offers, making the hairs on his arms stand upright. the beer is warm and bitter, and you pass the can to tashi after leaving a wet imprint of your lips that art would try to discreetly swipe his tongue over only moments later.

“you share girls often?” you ask and patrick’s brows quirk up, corner of his mouth tilting upwards. “this is our first time.” art says, pinkish blush spreading across his nose and the apples of his cheeks that implies his mind is drifting somewhere else. “why? are we not your type?” tashi laughs, leaning over towards art and tucking her hair behind her ears, his eyes following her closely, “aren’t you two everybody’s type?”

the boys shift in their positions, patrick lifting his hips up into the air briefly to get a little more comfortable and art pressing his hands into his knees, sharing a glance between them. all of the breath you exhale meshes into a palpable energy, and your gaze switches between art and patrick in a way they’ve already grown to love, their faces twitching with an eager awkwardness, “are you each other’s type?”

art chuckles out, “no…no.” he denies with a head shake, patrick peering over his shoulder at him silently, “no, we’ve never done anything like that.”

your’s and tashi’s eyes meet briefly, lips turning up into a smile.

“well…” patrick begins and art immediately jerks his head towards him, hoping that he wasn’t about to say the one thing he didn’t want to share, “i mean…”

“patrick, no.”

“don’t be shy, you have to tell us now” you tempt, a playful glint in the glance you give art.

patrick clears his throat, “you know, i just, taught art how to jerk off” he explains casually art’s right of passage while he holds his head in shame, painting an image of him being covered in his own ejaculation, over his stomach and legs like he had just “spilled milk” all over himself.

“that was a really adorable story” tashi hums, placing a hand on your shoulder to hoist herself up from the floor, and reaching out to help you up too. two pairs of eyes follow you around intently, admiring the tips of your fingers that swipe over various objects in their hotel room and feeling a little embarrassed about how obvious it is that they cleaned it only around 10 minutes ago. random pairs of boxers making an appearance from underneath the two single beds that they had pushed together, and an alarming amount of cigarette ash on the surface of the drawers.

tashi’s hand finds your wrist and guides you onto their bed where you take a seat patiently, criss-crossed, waiting for one of the boys to catch on and join you, while they are utterly immersed in the idea that the two of you are real and really in their bed.

silently, you usher them towards you with a tilt of the head, both of them jumping to their feet, basically leaping onto the bed so all four of you make a square, knees very slightly brushing against one another. theres a silent anticipation, tension weaving around all of you and luring your bodies closer. you take a quick look at each of their faces, their dilated pupils and irregular breaths, and move your lips closer to art’s, watching him inhale deeply like he wants to take all the air from your lungs for himself. then patrick, that selfishly attempts to lean his face closer before you can pull away.

you look towards tashi, who inches her face closer to yours, lips parted slightly and meeting in the middle for a kiss. in your peripheral vision, it’s hard not the notice the way that art and patrick are restraining themselves from punching a fist into the air out of joy, loud and shallow breaths caressing your cheeks. your mouth opens wider, leaning in deeper to consume every part of tashi’s lips in a hungry craze while her hand reaches into your hair to pull you closer. the two other men that keenly wait had slipped out of mind, still staring with a captivated stillness when you pull away from one another.

all you have to do is lean back onto your hands for art to pounce onto the side of your neck that becomes exposed, while patrick leans in to plant a kiss onto tashi’s jaw. on the surface their lips travel across the curve of your necks, heads fallen back, suctioning until they can taste the flavour of your perfume that lingers on your skin, while your hands exchange messily beneath; art’s touch feathering on your arm and reaching for tashi’s shoulder, and patricks arms intertwining with art’s to extend and touch your’s and tashi’s thighs.

patrick nuzzles his lips into divot the beneath tashi’s ear, journeying across her shoulder and onto your own in one smooth line, nearly head-butting with art when he shuffles to grace tashi with the same tender attention.

your hands scrunch into patrick’s dark hair, body involuntarily aching until you draw him closer to your face by the chin to connect with his lips. he balances himself in front of you, planting his hands at your sides to allow him to move even closer to you all while tashi hums into art’s gently mingling lips.

pulling back from patrick, you move onto art’s swollen mouth that glistens with lip gloss, tasting the remnants of tashi and yourself on them. all four of your faces coming together in the middle, so close that there is a dangerous lack of oxygen.

tongues pressing flat on top of another, swiping over bottom lips to feel every ridge and an accumulation of hot air. you become lightheaded at the different hands that grope over your figure, being pulled in by the back of your neck. there’s a contrast in the way each one of them kisses; tashi’s lips are familiar and firm, patrick’s are similar in their starved manner, and art’s yearn to take every molecule you are made of and ingest it.

tashi catches on immediately to the way that your left hand squeezes hers and pulls back to leave only art and patrick breathlessly grasping onto the others torso, noses pressing against each other at every tilt of the head and tongues slipping astray. the moment is only short, you and tashi glancing at one another, unbothered at whether they have noticed that you’re gone or secretly fulfilling a guilty hankering.

“okay.” tashi says, slapping her palms across her legs and sending a smile at the two boys. bottom lips slicked with one another’s saliva they remain frozen, only inches apart.

“goodnight, we have an early morning tomorrow.” you buzz, patrick and art separating only to let you slide past them on the bed, tashi following close behind and you wrapping your arms around her bicep absentmindedly.

neither one of them are able to make a sound, mouthing a “goodnight” that isn’t audible, admiring the way both of your curly brown hair sways behind you, walking out in the matching shorts they wonder if you ever swap.

they look at one another, then at the imprints in the floral blanket that your bodies left, scrunches where exactly you sat that they are both ready to smush their faces into. all while you and tashi stand outside of their hotel room once again, tuning in to the muffled dialogue about art’s grandmother before scurrying down the hotel hallway—hand in hand.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig fic #tashi duncan #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan x you #tashi duncan fic

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nightwngz · 10 months

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𝓢𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 ୨ ໋ ˳ ⊹ eng. . . !

superman, wonder woman and batman x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut drabble, gang bang, some sexual degradation, masturbation, oral sex, p in v. Diana!bisexual.

LANGUAGE: English is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. The original version is here.

There was always something strange and unlikely about these three from the moment you met them.

They were all hiding secrets. According to you, hiding secrets was one of the most common parts of human nature. You were not interested in knowing what they were all hiding, but your curious mind was obsessed with knowing what the holy trinity of the Justice League was hiding beneath their sleek and sophisticated veneer of heroes; what no one would dare doubt or question.

The price of your curiosity was more costly than you could have ever imagined, a debt that would have to be repaid. Now you were part of this madness, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't escape.

The good news was that you didn't want to.

You knew that the moment you felt the three of them completely, you were content to belong.

It was just hard to think of anything else when you found yourself tied to a chair, completely naked and unable to move while three pairs of blue eyes analyzed you.

The beautiful princess of Themyscira had no shame in digging into your sweet crotch. Her fingers slid across your sodden vaginal lips with a sound so vulgarly obscene that it caused you to inadvertently stir in your chair.

You looked intently at the two male figures as you tried to get as close to Diana as your body would allow so you could kiss her and feel her fingers go deeper inside you.

But before you could reach her lips, you were brutally pushed away by the man of steel, who had the clear intention of tasting your mouth first. Not that you were complaining; Clark's tongue was heavenly. It had a strange but hot connection to your lips, so it made you a mess right away. Who would have thought that Superman's ultimate power would be to soak his victims so easily?

Still, you didn't deserve them to be nice to you. On the contrary, you should be punished for insubordination. What you did was unforgivable.

In your defense, you didn't know that you were exclusive to the trio and couldn't sleep with other people. The rules weren't very clear when you met them, or when they started their no-strings-attached sex adventures.

Of course, you were not exclusive to anyone, and you planned to make that clear in the future. Right now, you were too busy cumming on Diana's fingers drilling your pussy that you didn't have enough time to think about anything else.

The adoration the Bat had for the way your pussy enveloped him so warmly brought out the most dominant and morbid part of his inner self. The sight of his cock moving in and out of your little hole at the same time your mouth was happily eating Clark's erection and your fingers were eating Diana's clit was enough to bring you to the verge of orgasm.

You gagged as the tip brushed against your uvula. You couldn't even concentrate enough because of how hard he was penetrating you. The pleasure was embracing.

— Look at our little slut. She can't even concentrate on sucking a good cock while she's being fucked. - Wayne commented. He kept going right into her sweet spot; faster and faster, more and more precise.

— She was too bad. Should we give her a prize though? She always takes us so well. - Kent continues, asking. You're beginning to control the rhythm of your mouth, although it's still a little difficult in some ways.

— Oh, Hera! - moans the princess of Themyscira. - That feels so good. - Her fingers can't resist trying to help themselves so she can come on your hand.

This is definitely the best part of the day, the one you enjoyed the most. And of course that was the guilty pleasure that came with keeping a secret. The secret the four of you shared.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne #batman #batman smut #batman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #superman #superman smut #superman x reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman smut #dc comics #dc universe #dc au

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 27 days

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omggg imagine marcus acacius teaching a reader, his wife how to ride a horse🥺❤️ and are on a horseback ride and having their spicy moments in the grass 🤤

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary: see ask above

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), p in v, Oral F and breeding

A/n: simple and sweet i hope you like it

Marcus had ridden you both out to a secluded field, far from the estate's bustling life. The sky stretched endlessly above, a deep cerulean canvas dotted with lazy clouds, and the sun bathed the rolling green hills in a golden glow. The rhythmic thud of the horse’s hooves on the soft earth was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. You could feel the warmth of Marcus’s body pressed against your back, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he guided the horse with a practiced ease that you couldn't help but admire.

He slowed the horse to a gentle stop near a large oak tree that stood like a sentinel in the middle of the field. Its branches spread wide, casting dappled shadows on the ground, providing a perfect spot for what you assumed was a simple, tranquil picnic. But as Marcus dismounted and offered his hand to help you down, there was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at something more.

You accepted his hand, your feet touching the ground with a lightness that belied the nervous fluttering in your stomach. His touch was warm, and steady, and for a moment, you were reluctant to let go. He seemed to sense your hesitation, his grip lingering just a heartbeat longer before he finally released you.

“I thought we could do more than just eat,” Marcus said, his voice rich and low, carrying the weight of an unspoken promise. He began unpacking a basket that you hadn’t noticed before, revealing an assortment of your favorite foods, but he paused, his gaze lifting to meet yours with that same mischievous glint. “I’m going to teach you to ride properly today.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. “I know how to ride,” you began, but the words felt hollow even as they left your lips.

Marcus chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, stirring something inside you. “Do you now?” he teased, a smirk curling his lips. “Because if I remember correctly, the first time we met, you didn’t seem quite so confident in the saddle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, the memory still fresh in your mind despite the time that had passed. “That wasn’t my fault,” you shot back, trying to sound indignant, though the embarrassment was evident in your voice. “I was being chased. I didn’t exactly have the luxury of a leisurely ride.”

Marcus’s smirk widened into a full grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ah yes, fleeing from your own wedding. Quite the dramatic entrance, if I recall. You nearly gave those guards heart attacks.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest in a show of defiance. “I had to do something! I wasn’t going to just sit there and let them hand me over like some... some prize to be won.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “A prize, hmm? Is that how you saw it?”

You huffed, turning your gaze away to avoid the intensity of his stare. “You know what I mean. I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s bride, least of all yours.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted the harshness.

But Marcus didn’t seem offended. If anything, his smile softened, a hint of something warmer flickering in his eyes. “And yet, here we are,” he said quietly, his tone more thoughtful now. “Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, you had been terrified that day—terrified of the future, of the unknown, and of the man you had been promised to. But as you looked at Marcus now, the memory of his calm, reassuring presence in that chaotic moment surfaced. He hadn’t been the monster you’d imagined; he had been... kind. Even then, when you were just a terrified girl thrown from a horse, he had treated you with a gentleness that you hadn’t expected.

“You were different from what I imagined,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Marcus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “And what did you imagine?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I thought you’d be... cold, distant. Like everyone said you were.”

His expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. “Everyone says a lot of things,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. “But you didn’t run from me that day because of what others said, did you?”

You met his gaze, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There was something raw in his eyes, something that made your chest tighten. “I was scared,” you admitted, the confession slipping out before you could stop it. “Not just of you, but of everything. It all felt like too much. Like I was losing control.”

Marcus’s gaze softened again, the edge in his eyes melting away as he took a step closer. “And now?” he asked, his voice gentle but probing. “Do you still feel that way?”

You swallowed hard, the sincerity in his question catching you off guard. The truth was, things had changed since that day. You had changed. The fear that had once driven you to flee had slowly been replaced by something else—something you weren’t entirely sure how to name yet. But it was there, simmering beneath the surface, growing stronger with every shared glance, every touch, every word.

“No,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. “Not like before.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Marcus’s face as if he had been waiting for that answer. “Good,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch was brief, almost fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a warmth that spread from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten how you practically laughed at me when I fell,” you added, trying to inject some lightness back into the conversation.

Marcus’s grin returned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Laughed? I seem to remember being quite concerned for your well-being.”

“Oh, really?” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “Because from where I was lying, it looked like you were struggling not to burst out laughing.”

He shrugged, not even bothering to hide his amusement now. “Perhaps I found your determination to ride a horse you clearly had no control over... endearing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Endearing? That’s what you call it?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone playful. “It’s not every day you see someone so fiercely determined to escape their own wedding. And on a horse, they could barely manage, no less. It was... impressive.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “Impressive? I nearly broke my neck!”

“But you didn’t,” Marcus pointed out, his smile widening. “And that, my dear, is the point. You took a risk, you fought for your freedom, and you survived. That’s more than most people can say.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard, and for a moment, the playful banter faded away, replaced by something deeper. Something real.

“Maybe,” you said softly, your eyes locking onto his. “But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Marcus’s expression softened, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a warmth that made your heartache. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you don’t need anyone to tell you that.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words, the tension building once more. But this time, it wasn’t the kind of tension that made you want to run. It was the kind that made you want to stay, to see where this path might lead.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the wind. “I do need someone.”

Marcus's eyes bore into yours, the intensity of the moment making it feel like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. His breath was warm against your lips, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the steady thrum of your own heart echoing in your chest.

For a moment, it seemed as though time itself had stopped. The air between you crackled with unspoken words and emotions too powerful to name. He was so close, close enough that you could see the storm of emotions swirling in his gaze—desire, longing, something deeper that both thrilled and terrified you. You thought he might kiss you, and a part of you desperately wanted him to.

But then, just as the tension reached its peak, Marcus’s expression softened, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, knowing smile. The intensity in his eyes ebbed, replaced by a gentle warmth that eased the pressure in your chest.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he said, his voice husky but laced with that familiar teasing tone, “we should probably eat something before the food gets cold.” He stepped back, breaking the spell, though his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer, a silent promise that this wasn’t over.

You blinked, trying to refocus as the world around you seemed to slowly come back into view. The wind rustled through the grass, the sunlight filtered through the leaves of the oak tree, and the scent of the picnic spread tickled your nose, reminding you of the meal Marcus had so carefully prepared.

It was a strange contrast—the almost overwhelming intimacy of the moment and the sudden return to something so mundane. But there was a comfort in it too, in the way Marcus shifted gears so effortlessly, guiding you through the ebb and flow of emotions as if he had always known exactly what you needed.

“Right,” you said, your voice a little breathless as you tried to regain your composure. “Food. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

Marcus chuckled, the sound easing the lingering tension. “I thought you might agree,” he said, turning towards the picnic spread. He motioned for you to join him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you followed.

The blanket was spread out beneath the shade of the oak tree, the basket sitting beside it, filled with an assortment of delicious-looking foods. You marveled at the care Marcus had put into everything—the fresh bread, the ripe fruits, the selection of cheeses, and even a small bottle of your favorite wine. It was a simple meal, but it was perfect in its simplicity, a reflection of the thoughtfulness that had gone into planning this day.

You settled down on the blanket, and Marcus handed you a plate, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a familiar warmth coursing through you. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, passing food back and forth, sharing a quiet conversation that felt surprisingly natural given the charged moment you had just shared.

But even as you ate, there was an undercurrent of anticipation, a sense that this was merely an interlude before something more. Every time your hands touched, every time your eyes met, you could feel the tension building again, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

“So,” Marcus said, breaking the comfortable silence as he poured you a glass of wine, “after we eat, I’m going to teach you to ride properly.” There was that teasing glint in his eye again, the one that made your heart flutter. “No more dramatic escapes, just good, solid horsemanship.”

You laughed, taking the glass from him. “I think I can manage that,” you said, though there was a part of you that still felt nervous at the prospect. Riding had never been your strongest skill, and the memory of that first disastrous attempt still lingered in the back of your mind.

Marcus seemed to sense your hesitation because he reached over and took your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, his tone reassuring. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You won’t fall. And even if you do,” he added with a grin, “I’ll catch you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening a little. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” you teased, taking a sip of the wine.

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s a gift,” he said lightly, but there was a sincerity beneath his words that you didn’t miss. Marcus had a way of making you feel safe, of grounding you even when the world seemed to spin out of control. It was a quality you had come to admire, though you hadn’t realized just how much until now.

The meal passed in a comfortable blend of laughter and light conversation, the earlier intensity replaced by a sense of camaraderie that felt both new and familiar. And yet, even as you enjoyed the food and the company, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between you and Marcus, something that had been building ever since that fateful day when you first met.

As the last of the food was cleared away and the wine glasses emptied, Marcus stood, extending a hand to help you up. “Ready for your lesson?” he asked a playful challenge in his voice.

Marcus's smile widened at your response, a mixture of pride and mischief dancing in his eyes as he led you toward the horse. The animal stood patiently, its dark coat gleaming in the afternoon sun, a gentle giant in stark contrast to the wild stallion you had once ridden in a desperate bid for freedom. There was a certain serenity to this horse, a calm that you found reassuring as you approached.

“First things first,” Marcus said, his tone taking on that authoritative edge that both irritated and intrigued you. He came to stand beside the horse, his hands resting on the saddle as he looked up at you. “Before you can ride, you need to understand the horse. It’s not just about controlling it; it’s about working with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re not going to give me a lecture, are you?” you teased, though you couldn’t deny the flutter of nerves in your stomach. Riding had never been your forte, and the memory of your last attempt still made your palms sweat.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a lecture, just some advice,” he said, his voice softening. He reached out, gently taking your hand and guiding it to the horse’s neck. “Feel that?” he asked, his hand resting over yours, guiding your movements. The warmth of the horse’s skin beneath your palm, the steady rise and fall of its breath—it was strangely soothing.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I do,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” Marcus said, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “That’s where it all starts. Trust the horse, and it will trust you. The rest will follow.”

His words were simple, but there was a depth to them that resonated with you. Trust. It was something you had always struggled with, something that had been difficult to come by in your life. But standing there, with Marcus’s hand over yours and the horse’s steady presence grounding you, it didn’t seem quite so impossible.

“Now,” Marcus continued, stepping back slightly to give you room, though his hand remained on your waist, a steadying force. “Let’s get you up there.”

With his guidance, you placed your foot in the stirrup and swung your leg over the horse’s back. It was an awkward motion, and you felt a momentary rush of panic as you wobbled, but Marcus was there, his hands steadying you, his voice calm and encouraging.

“Easy,” he murmured, his hands firm on your waist as you settled into the saddle. “You’ve got this.”

You took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of the horse beneath you, the strength of its muscles, the rhythmic motion of its breathing. Slowly, the panic ebbed, replaced by a tentative sense of confidence.

Marcus mounted behind you with an effortless grace that made you a little envious. His arms came around you, his hands gently taking hold of the reins, his body pressing against yours in a way that was both comforting and disarming.

“Now, hold the reins like this,” he instructed, guiding your hands to the proper position. His breath was warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he adjusted your grip. “Not too tight, but firm enough that the horse knows what you want.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the intoxicating closeness of his body against yours. “Like this?” you asked, turning your head slightly to catch his eye.

“Perfect,” Marcus said, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill through you. “Now, give the horse a gentle nudge with your heels.”

You hesitated for a moment, then did as he instructed. The horse responded immediately, moving forward with a smooth, steady gait. You felt a surge of exhilaration as the ground began to pass beneath you, the wind teasing at your hair.

“There you go,” Marcus said, his voice filled with pride. “See? You’re doing it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a genuine, unguarded smile that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling of control, of freedom, was intoxicating, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Marcus teased his tone light but laced with affection. “We’re just getting started.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture was more playful than annoyed. “Oh, please,” you shot back, your confidence growing with each passing moment. “I think I’ve got this under control.”

Marcus chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock skepticism. “Then let’s see how you handle this.”

Before you could respond, Marcus gently urged the horse into a trot, the sudden change in pace catching you off guard. You let out a surprised yelp, your hands tightening on the reins as you tried to adjust to the new rhythm.

“Easy,” Marcus said, his hands guiding yours, his body steadying you as the horse moved beneath you. “Don’t fight it. Just go with the flow.”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax as Marcus had instructed. The horse’s movements were more fluid than you had expected, and as you began to match its rhythm, the initial panic started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of control.

“That’s it,” Marcus murmured, his voice a soothing presence in your ear. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at his words, though you tried to hide it. “I told you I could do it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the excitement was evident in your voice.

Marcus laughed, the sound warm and full of affection. “I never doubted you,” he said, his tone sincere. “But it’s nice to see you proving me right.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your bodies moving in sync with the horse’s steady gait. The sun was warm on your skin, the scent of wildflowers filling the air as you rode through the field. There was a peacefulness to the moment, a sense of connection that went beyond words.

“Marcus,” you said after a while, your voice soft as you turned your head slightly to look at him. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head, his eyes warm as he met your gaze. “For what?”

“For this,” you said, gesturing to the scene around you. “For teaching me, for... everything.”

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with affection. “It’s my pleasure,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You’ve always been stronger than you think, and it’s an honor to help you see that.”

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, a deep, abiding affection that you hadn’t quite realized was there until now. “You know,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice, “for a man who was supposed to be this cold, distant lord, you’re actually quite sweet.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “Sweet, am I? I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Flattered,” you said, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. “Definitely flattered.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Well, I’m glad to know you think so,” he said, his voice softening. “But don’t get too used to it. I still have to maintain my reputation, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, though there was a smile on your lips. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’ve gone soft.”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Perish the thought.”

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a while longer, the horse’s steady gait lulling you into a sense of peace. But as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the field, Marcus gently pulled the horse to a stop.

“You’ve done well,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “I think you’re ready to ride on your own.”

You looked at him, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach. “Really?”

He nodded, his smile reassuring. “Really. But first...” He reached out, his hands settling on your waist as he effortlessly lifted you off the horse and onto the soft blanket of grass below. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and you let out a surprised laugh as you landed with a soft thud.

“Marcus!” you exclaimed, trying to sound indignant, but the laughter in your voice betrayed you.

He grinned, dismounting and joining you on the blanket, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He shrugged, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, his hands finding their way to your waist once more. “Maybe,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “but you seem to like me that way.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as Marcus’s hands slid up your sides, his touch light but deliberate. The playful atmosphere shifted, the air around you thickening with anticipation as his gaze locked onto yours.

“And besides,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m hungry for more than just food.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sent a thrill through you. There was a heat in his gaze, a hunger that matched the fire burning in your own veins.

Before you could respond, Marcus closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of warmth and desire.

As Marcus's lips moved against yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the heat of his body pressed against yours, the roughness of his hands as they traced the curves of your figure. The slow burn of desire between you was almost unbearable, every touch, every kiss stoking the flames higher, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

His fingers deftly untied the laces of your tunic, not tearing it away, but easing it open, just enough for his lips to find the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He kissed you there, slow and deliberate, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. You arched into him, your breath catching as his tongue traced the line of your throat, his mouth trailing down to the hollow at the base of your neck, where he placed a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation sent a ripple of warmth through you, pooling low in your belly as his hands slid beneath the fabric, palms warm against the bare skin of your waist.

You could feel the roughness of the grass beneath you as the blanket shifted, the cool breeze whispering over your exposed skin, but all that registered was the heat of Marcus’s touch, the way his hands moved over you with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his gaze. He shifted, his body pressing you down into the earth, his weight a delicious pressure that grounded you even as his lips and hands drove you to the edge of control.

He moved slowly, almost reverently, his lips brushing over the swell of your breast, his breath hot against your skin. His hands slid lower, pushing up the fabric of your skirt, exposing more of your thighs to the cool night air. But where the breeze should have chilled you, all you felt was the searing heat of Marcus's touch as he explored every inch of you with deliberate care.

You shivered, your fingers tangling in his dark curls as his mouth found the curve of your breast. He took his time, teasing you with slow, open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, make you writhe beneath him. His hands followed the path his lips had taken, sliding over your ribs, down your sides, until they found the edge of your undergarments.

He paused there, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric, as if savoring the moment, the anticipation. You could feel the tension building between you, the need for more, but Marcus seemed in no hurry. He lifted his head, his gaze locking with yours, and in that moment, the world held its breath. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—a tenderness that made your heartache, that made the slow burn between you all the more intense.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint, his hands stilling on your hips as if giving you one last chance to pull away.

You nodded, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. Instead, you reached for him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, drawing him down to you for another kiss. This one was different—slower, deeper, a promise of everything you wanted, everything you were willing to give.

He groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance that left you dizzy with want. Slowly, achingly slowly, he began to pull your undergarments down, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

The fabric slipped away, and you felt the cool air against your bare skin for just a moment before Marcus’s hand was there, his touch warm, almost reverent as he traced the line of your thigh. He moved with agonizing slowness, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh, making you squirm, making you ache with need.

“Marcus,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you clung to him, desperate for more, for the release you knew only he could give.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, making your skin tingle with anticipation. “Patience, love,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his hand slid higher, teasing the edge of your desire. “I want to take my time with you.”

His fingers brushed against your center, a light, teasing touch that made you gasp, and made your hips lift off the ground in search of more. But Marcus was in control, his touch maddeningly gentle as he explored you, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

You were trembling now, your body taut with tension, every nerve ending on fire as he played you like a finely tuned instrument. His thumb found your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

But Marcus wasn’t finished with you yet. He shifted, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the heat of his arousal seeping through the thin fabric of his trousers. The knowledge of how much he wanted you, how much he was holding back, only heightened your own need, making the slow burn of his touch all the more unbearable.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, your body trembling with the force of your desire. “Marcus, please…”

He let out a low growl, his self-control fraying as he pulled back just enough to remove the last barriers between you. The cool air was a shock against your heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the jolt of pleasure that shot through you as Marcus finally, finally, pressed against you, the hard length of him sliding between your thighs, teasing your entrance.

He didn’t move right away, just held you there, his body trembling with the effort of restraint as he looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice rough with emotion, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control.

“I want you,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his back, your nails biting into his skin as you pulled him closer. “Please, Marcus, I need you…”

That was all it took. With a low, primal sound, Marcus finally gave in, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly pushed inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious stretch that filled you completely, made you gasp, made you clutch at him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one designed to drive you higher, to make you feel every inch of him as he filled you, stretched you, took you apart piece by piece. You could feel the heat building inside you, a slow burn that threatened to consume you as Marcus moved within you, his body pressing you into the earth, grounding you even as he made you soar.

His hands were everywhere, one sliding down to where your bodies were joined, his thumb finding your clit with a practiced ease that had you crying out, your hips bucking against him as the pleasure built to an unbearable level. The world around you blurred, the only reality the slow, sensual rhythm of Marcus’s body moving against yours, the overwhelming heat of his touch as he drove you higher and higher.

“Marcus,” you gasped, your body trembling as you clung to him, your nails raking down his back as you fought to hold on, to keep from falling apart completely. “I’m going to—”

But before you could finish, the orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you gasping for air, your body clenching around him, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of bliss. Your vision blurred, the world spinning around you as you lost yourself in the sensation, the only anchor the solid weight of Marcus’s body pressing you into the earth.

But Marcus didn’t stop. He kept moving, his thrusts more urgent now, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled with the effort of holding back, of drawing out the moment as long as possible.

And then, with a final, deep thrust, Marcus let out a low, guttural sound, his body tensing as he found his own release. You could feel the heat of him spilling inside you, the sensation overwhelming as he held you close, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

Marcus’s lips lingered on yours, the softness of the kiss a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired between you. His breath was warm against your skin, mingling with the scent of earth and grass, a moment of peace that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. But as the haze of passion began to fade, you noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression shifting from contentment to something more somber, more serious. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I lost control. I didn’t mean to—”

You shook your head, placing a finger over his lips to silence him. “Don’t apologize,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the lingering tremors in your body. “I wanted this, Marcus. I wanted you.”

His eyes softened, but the worry in them didn’t entirely fade. “Still, I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t want to rush things, to make you feel—”

“You didn’t rush anything,” you reassured him, your hand moving to rest over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm. “I’ve never felt more sure about anything.”

He exhaled, the tension in his body easing slightly, but his gaze flickered to the horizon, where the last light of the day was slowly giving way to the deep blue of twilight. “It’s getting late,” he said softly, his tone reluctant, as though he was loath to leave this bubble of intimacy you’d created together. “We should head back before it gets too dark.”

You nodded, understanding his concern even if part of you wanted to stay here with him, wrapped in the warmth of this moment a little longer. The reality of the world outside this secluded field seemed distant, but you knew you couldn’t stay here forever.

Marcus helped you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as he adjusted your clothing, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. You mirrored his actions, straightening his tunic and brushing stray blades of grass from his hair, the simple domesticity of the gesture bringing a soft smile to your lips.

As you began to gather your belongings, the silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that something had shifted, and deepened between you. The sun was almost entirely below the horizon now, the first stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a gentle glow over the landscape.

Marcus took your hand, leading you back toward the horses, the warmth of his palm grounding you as you walked together. The field around you was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant call of a night bird, creating a peaceful backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Once you reached the horses, Marcus turned to you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking reassurance. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’m more than all right, Marcus,” you replied softly, your heart swelling with affection for this man who had somehow become so important to you in such a short time. “Thank you….”

He seemed to relax at your words, his shoulders losing some of the tension they’d been holding. “I just want you to be happy,” he said, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips. “I am,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to see the way his eyes softened, the tension finally melting away completely.

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pucksandpower · 2 years

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Charles Leclerc x Reader - New Year’s Edition Social Media AU

May

f1wagupdates

Liked by leclercfan2, f1fan9, and 2,108 others

f1wagupdates is it heartbreak for our favorite paddock couple? watchful fans and media members were surprised when charles leclerc made his season debut without his longtime girlfriend, y/n y/l/n, by his side. they were further surprised when attempts to look at y/n’s instagram account revealed that she had deactivated. the trend continued as she has not attended a single race since the season began, including the monaco grand prix which the ferrari driver in question won just hours ago. missing his home race certainly seems to signal that the pair has ended their relationship

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ferrarifan3 this makes me so sad! she deactivated around christmas but i thought she just wanted a break from social media

f1fan6 they were so cute together 🥺

leclerc4ever this just proves that love isn’t real because if they broke up what hope is there for the rest of us?

ferrarihauntsme maybe they haven’t broken up? i mean this is really just pure speculation. y/n has her own life too. maybe something came up that means she can’t attend races as regularly as she used to

f1wagupdates but his home race? i can’t imagine she would miss monaco

ferrarihauntsme my point is that no one knows her situation and now fans are making a lot of assumptions without any context

f1fan8 thank you! people forget that drivers’ partners have their own lives and responsibilities too

December

f1wagupdates

Liked by ferrarifan7, f1fan5, and 2,009 others

f1wagupdates charles leclerc attended the prize giving ceremony alone. it appears that he has not moved on from y/n y/l/n despite being broken up for nearly a year

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f1fashion i loved seeing what y/n would wear since charles’ rookie year

ferrarifan1 i’ve seriously missed seeing her outfits around the paddock

leclercdefender these posts are getting weird. they’ve never confirmed that they’re no longer together and we know nothing about y/n’s personal life or literally anything that’s happening

f1wagupdates maybe they should just confirm it then

f1fangirl sorry but charles doesn’t owe fans information one way or the other about his relationship status and y/n definitely doesn’t either

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 307,258 others

y/n_leclerc happy new year’s eve! i’m back. the past year brought about some wonderful changes as i became Mrs. Leclerc on january 16th and then mama to little Jules Hervé on december 2nd. we wanted to keep our growing family to ourselves for the time being and ask for our privacy to be respected as we continue on the beautiful journey that is marriage and parenthood. but don’t worry, the paddock hasn’t seen the last of me yet

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charles_leclerc mon monde ❤️

*translated from French my world*

y/n_leclerc we love you so much

pierregasly i’m already the favorite uncle

arthur_leclerc i’m obviously the actual favorite uncle

lorenzotl all lies since it’s me

scuderiaferrari congratulations! a future ferrari driver in the making

f1forever jules hervé 😭

leclercfan16 in actual tears right now

leclercdefender i refused to believe you broke up but omg??? never would have guessed this is what happened instead

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire 🔥💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier.

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day 🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious 🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow 🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife 🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again 🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat 🔥

Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down 🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day 🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Hold You Tight 🔥🛑💞

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell 🔥🛑

Summary: You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last 🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary: Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession 🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me 🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession 🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay 🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around 🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel 🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas 🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You 🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky)

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty 🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage 🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward 🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call 🔥🛑 His Sparrow 🔥🛑 Stalked

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader

232 notes · View notes

howdoesagrapewrites · 9 months

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐕 ✴️

Taglist: @faespace @baellabass @ejs398

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon

>Alicent and her children had been guarding your sleep the whole night, the night of the king's passing

>Aemond saw his mother just observe you while displaying an unreadable expression, he prides himself with being able to decipher people and use it to his benefit, but this time, his mother seemed out of reach to him. If he had to guess, she was attempting to treat you like a pawn, trying to dehumanize you to gain control over the political situation, and she was failing

>For his part, his thoughts while observing you, were much tainted he was watching your chest rise with every breath, examining your boobs and how they would slightly change shape when you laid on your back, much rounder. He would love if his mother and sister left to grope and caress, even just over the cloth, even for just a minute. Just a minute to smell your skin, your natural scent now free of the perfumes you would wear to fit in court

>He would love to have a minute, but he wants a whole life, Aemond is sure not even growing old with you would leave him satisfied, he would look for you again

>He wondered what would you think of him, he has a plethora of fantasies depending on your reactions. The most obvious one, disgust. He would cage you his his arms, hold your wrists with one hand while using the other to rid you of the bothersome clothing, sucking and biting at your neck, then your niples. You resist, but he is able to bring you pleasure regardless, some of your screams turn into moans and by the time he's kissing below your navel and starting to use a finger to play with your slit, your pleas of "no" and "please do not" are almost automatic, you do want him to go down on you, but you continue to chant the words as if to preserve what's left of purity

>But that fantasy would soon get old, he wished to exert power over you, yet have you willingly submit

>If you could only look at him the same way that you used to while consoling him over his lack of a mount

>Helaena was there as well, Jahaera and Jahaerys had been brought by her, but taken to bed by the maids in no time

>Helaena sung intelligible songs while playing with the threads in-between her fingers, for the little audible parts, Aemond heard the songs speak of dragons, swords, fire and blood

>His mother had arranged for Aegon to usurp the throne, he would never say this out loud, he knows his brother is a usurper, but he encourages this, as he wants the strong bastards away from the line of succession as one can be. Better off dead, but that's too much to ask

>Everything was in place, except for the king. Aegon was missing, «of course Aegon was missing» he thought

>Otto wanted to send ser Criston to find him, but Alicent protested it would leave you alone. They went back and forth until Otto said they would entrust Daeron with your guard. Aemond rolled his eye.

>Helaena had left without him noticing, possibly to mother the twins and whatnot

>He was in his mother's chambers, Otto alongside her, discussing the future of the realm. «This is the real small council» he said to himself

>"I will find Aegon, mother" said Aemond

>"That is already taken care of, Ser Criston will not rest until-" Otto spoke

>"He doesn't know where Aegon is, I do"

>"Then speak at once, boy" Aemond grimaced at the words of his grandsire

>"I am not to speak, I am to search, this is matter that requires involvement" he paused "But I want something"

>"We shall send Ser Criston, you will join if he fails"

>"And waste all that time? He may be as well as dead halfway through ser Criston's crusade"

>"Name your prize" Otto replied, breathing defeat in every syllable

>"You will hear it after" Aemond saw Otto arch an eyebrow and open his mouth to speak "Do not worry, I have no interest on the crown, or land, or titles, I would have acted before had been that my goal" His mother urged him to speak, but he had to remain silent, he was sure she would understand

>Him and the royal guard were underdressed in rags to blend in, Aemond wore a cape to cover his silver mane

>He had to endure the obnoxious Cole knocking on every brothel door like he was a lost peasant

>He was very uncomfortable when he found the madam of that one place, staying stiff and shivering under his cold facade

>He thanked the seven you could not see him like that, weak

>Once they found the White Worm, she said the prince would be handed over a ridiculous sum that they bargained

>But before they could leave with Aegon, he remembered something. The White Worm weaves silk through far and wide in the realm. The White Worm who is the paramour of the prince of the city, the White Worm that could have been your mother

>Aemond would order extra vigilance on you that night, while Misarya was known to be a slimy, untrustworthy woman, she had never been known to betray Daemon, or to betray gold for that matter, and Daemon was not going to skimp on you

>He had to say he was anything but surprised when he learned of that idiotic scheme of his brother to leave the city. Aemond imagined he'd waste his small fortune on whores as soon as he arrived, feast with men who are just waiting for him to surrender his better judgement to a glass of wine, then steal whatever is left. He always thought Aegon would likely die with his pants on his knees, possible covered in vomit and other fluids, choking on a chicken bone, or something as meaningless as a cherry pit, his women would steal his gold and he'd die slowly, lonely, pathetically, he had to say the idea did not displeased him too much

>But then, he could only cash his prize if he retrieved him, in one piece no less

>Aegon had returned, being almost locked up in his chambers, and the death of Viserys continued a secret to the world until the preparations for Aegon's ascension were finished. By the third day, the corpse of his father started to stink, he had already been rotting in life, and death was not stopping that. He looked at the king, he found him graceless, he had nothing, he was an absent king and absent father, Aemond would do better if he had the chance

>A couple hours after Aegon's arrival, you had woken up, almost immediately you were taken from your room and (to your perspective) randomly put on another, the maids insisted it was for your safety, and you decided to not waste a breath asking them questions that were for someone else. You wanted to see Alicent, and you wanted to see Viserys

>No one would give you answers, and you had no way of communicating with your family, not your father or even your family in the castle, for that matter, you only had ser Criston as a form of familiarity, not even your usual maids were to be seen anywhere. Even though you did not wish to think of it, it was probably because Aegon had chosen them to place his "affections"

>The second night you were awake and isolated, you commanded sir Criston to come into your room and talk to you, give you whatever detail of information he had. He refused again and again, with excuses of how he answered to the queen only, how he was to the door to protect you, how it was improper

>But he ended up giving in

>He told you all he could say, was that the king had died, and that now a conflict of ink and ravens was arising

>You wept the lost of your uncle, and (awkwardly) ser Criston put a hand on your shoulder, ghosting over it. And he told you to fear not, you were in good hands

>You wanted to believe him, you did

>Back to Aemond, he had come to speak with his mother as soon as he was done arranging your room transfer. He felt accomplished by commanding, especially when commanding for your well-being. Alicent knew what Aemond would ask for, and she had tried to ready herself to hear it

>"I want lady Y/N, wed her to me" he did little to stop the smile growing on his lips

>Alicent could have said many things, but she just asked her son one thing. "Do you understand the consequences, Aemond?"

>He nodded, he did not care, if the consequences of taking you were fire and blood, so be it. Never in the seven kingdoms had existed a more lovely lady, and Aemond was only blind in one eye

>He wanted to marry her before Aegon's crowning, and he had threatened to get the supreme septon to do it in secret if he had to, he was smart, and knew it was just a matter of time before Daemon and Rhaenyra caught wind of everything, and he will not lose you

>Daeron had come to face him, Aemond never thought he had the balls to do it

>Whining about his lack of honor, how he was stealing their cousin, dragging them when she was practically engaged to him already

>Aemond let his anger simmer, he smiled while the boiling blood warmed his body, the delicious liquid reminding he was alive, he lived for the taste of rage, his or from others

>"Worry not, little brother, you can now take your vows as a white cloak, so you can become my wife's sworn sword and stand behind her door when she and I share our bedchamber"

>Daeron reached for his sword, he did the same

>"Uh uh, are you sure?" He teased while Daeron seemed on the verge of tears (sadness, ire, who knows)

>His younger brother simply walked away from him, in shame

>You were losing your mind in confusion, and no tantrums from you were enough for the servants to let you leave your chambers to visit Viserys' corpse

>So imagine your surprise when the maids came with shiny new silks, to dress you for your wedding day

>Two ladies, one named Olivya Swann and one named Celesse Hightower, announced themselves as your new ladies in waiting. They said your measures were needed to confect a wedding gown for you, you refused to strip until they spoke and told you what was going on, you felt bad for them, as they were clearly not the ones to blame for the mayhem

>It took a while, the maids genuinely did not know much, the orders came from above and they obeyed. But it was Celesse who finally broke down. They were sent to aid the preparations for your wedding to prince Aemond

>You had to sit down on the bed, your head was spinning around, now there was nothing to do, you were a prisoner in King's Landing. And it was easy to put two and two together, they were not planning to bend the knee to Rhaenyra, and you were there as a pawn in their twisted game of chess

>You yelled at the women to leave you alone, and despite their attempts to calm you down, you ordered them to go. You knew they would come back later, but you simply could not stand there like nothing was happening

>How could Alicent allow this? If they wanted to marry you to the greens, why Aemond? It was clear you and Daeron had far more in common, and comments were made about betrothing you to him, why Aemond?

>Aemond was cruel, and you could never decipher what he wanted from you, he took pleasure on hurting your family, and you were further perplexed on why would he want to marry a bastard

>Maybe he was being forced to marry you too, it would have made you almost sympathetic if it were not for his previous actions

>You tried to sleep, you layed fully dressed on the bed without covering yourself with the blankets

>You dreamt of nothing, and were awaken once again by the maids looking to measure you

>They came in, and helped you undress as to avoid the measures be altered by the thick of your clothing

>You were sleepy and docile, allowing them to carefully place the meter in your waist, bust, hips and shoulders, they also measured your arms

>Olivya presented you with squares of several luxury fabrics, one stack was several shades of white, and the other was a similar amount of shades of green.

>You did not let the opportunity slip, this would probably be the one choice you would have on your marriage

>You made your ladies show you each and every square of fabric, you took all the time in the world. Finally, the chosen ones were pearl white with emerald and laurel green. The colors reminded you of your dragon, you missed him so much, but the gods only know where he could be, he was too large for the dragonpit and therefore set free, he would have come to your calling once you left with your family, that was what was supposed to happen

>You spent three more days locked away, at least you had Olivya and Celesse now. Celesse came from Oldtown, she was the daughter of Hobert Hightower, you made her tell you stories of Daeron, as you were unable to see him. You fondly smiled when thinking of him, your dragon knight

>Olivya was from the stormlands, but she had been raised in King's Landing, as her uncle was serving in court, and she was brought to keep company to princess Helaena

>You told them of Pentos, then of Dragonstone, you told them of your little brothers, so small and cute, you also told them about dragons, you told them about your home, in all its meaning

>Three days after the measuring, the wedding gown was ready, you were amazed, and wondered how many people had been working in full speed in order to complete such an intricate piece in so little time. There was pearls and little gems embroided in the translucent sleeves, a green dress, a beautiful Hightower green dress

>Celesse spoke highly of your soon-to-be husband, telling tales of his skill with the sword and his intelligence

>Olivya told you you would enjoy married life, that the prince was a fine suitor with "admirable manners"

>You remained silent, luckily, your saddened face was covered by a white veil

>What you saw could hardly be called a ceremony, there was Alicent, Aemond and a septon. You slowly walked towards the altar, and recited the vows you had learned when fantasizing as a little girl, none of your fantasies happened this way

>Like always, Aemond was unreadable, and you did not care to try to read him anymore

>There was no feast, no celebration, nothing remotely similar to the wedding ceremony of a prince

>Like everything around the castle, it was rushed, poorly done and with second intentions behind it

>You struggled to look at Alicent, she was dear to you once, but now you debate whether should you trust her

>During the dreaded wedding night, you expected Aemond to humiliate you, to take you by force and call you names, to degrade you

>Anxiety pooled in your stomach, and your eyes burned as you tried to hold tears in

>But instead, he kissed your hand and laid next to you, not even touching you

>You must disgust him, he was forced to marry you, and he has no interest in you, you thought you found yourself in the position of Rhea Royce

>But you could speak plainly to Aemond, you always had

>"An unconsummated marriage can be easily annulled" you pointed out

>"You don't sound at all aroused with the idea, you appear hardly seductive" Aemond replied

>Aemond sat down on the bed, you copied him

>"I am not Aegon, I found screams for help less than enticing. Besides, you would never love me if I raped you" he stated as if he was talking about his day

>"Who says I love you now?" Maybe you should have not been so bold, but you were

>"We are married, you'll learn to do it eventually"

>"As humble as ever. Then let me ask why I should I love you, and you are free not to"

>"I love you, Y/N" you could feel the scorching heat coming from his eye, the sapphire shone in the candlelight. You were speechless, it would have been hard to believe if he wasn't gazing at you so intensely, he carefully took your hand in his

>"You have not acted as such" was the only thing you thought to answer

>"I am not Daeron" your eyes widen in shame. It is not unfaithfulness, yet shame makes you feel as if it is "But again, you have not treated me like you treated Daeron, have you?" He knew what he was doing to you

>"He never called me a bastard"

>Despite the topics of conversation, you both remained calmed, vulnerable in the cocoon of the sheets, your hand was still intertwined with his

>"Neither have I" he squeezed your hand a little

>"But you continue to humiliate Jace, Luke and Joffrey for it"

>"And I paid with my eye. And with you" you look at him confused after he says that, so he continues "After I bonded with Vhagar, you pushed me away, you never forgave me for it"

>"You never asked for forgiveness"

>"And I will not, not for what I did, but perhaps the way I did it"

>You and your husband talked for what it felt like days, for what it felt like years of lost time

>By the hour of the nightingale, you felt like you married one man and now lay with another. Despite his hardened exterior, you now smile at Aemond the way you did once when you were children

>"We still have time to make this wedding night exciting, my lady wife" he smiled mischievously, you looked at him with slight distrust, hoping he was not expecting sex after all that heartfelt talk "would do me the honor of flying with me?" You smiled

>"Dagahrion is not here"

>"There's plenty of room in Vhagar, I ride the largest dragon in the world"

>"You clearly have not seen mine lately" you teased

>"I suppose we'll have to clear that matter once he returns"

>You dressed up and sneaked into the dragonpit, this kind of mischief made you think of happier days, made you forget about the mess

>You missed Vhagar, she used to be Laena's, and she remembered you

>You rode with Aemond until sunrise, in that moment it was just the three of you. No marriage, no usurpation, no conflicts, nothing but the wind in your faces

>Until you had to come back, and you found the preparations for Aegon's coronation being set in place

>"This is outrageous, disgraceful, illicit! This is simply- this is bullshit, Aemond!" You shouted to him once alone "Aegon will be the worst king since Maegor and you know that"

>"I am not the one who sat him on that throne, don't you shout at me for it"

>"It's true, but you are not doing anything to stop it, Rhaenyra should be crowned"

>"Of, course, then Jacaerys Strong can become protector of the realm" he snickered sarcastically

>"May his father be Ser Harwin, Laenor or the damn mushroom, we are sure he is of Rhaenyra and that is what matters"

>"If he was born of Rhaenyra's husband then it truly would not matter if his sire is mushroom or whoever may he be, he is a bastard"

>"So am I! Appoint me leader of the bastard council If you want, because I will defend his claim to the throne, Rhaenyra is the heir and you and I know Aegon is a depraved drunk"

>"Bastard or not, you are my wife, and I will not argue anymore, you are mine now. And when you are called, I want you pretty and smiling when witnessing his coronation, because your husband says so" you had not even realized when he had caged you against the wall, his eyes burning with rage. No trace left of the man you spent last night with

>"Yes, my prince" was all you said. He nodded, kissed your forehead and left the room

>Your father used to call the court "the nest of vipers" and now you understand, the only way to survive was playing their game

>You called in for Olivya and Celesse. Told them to dress you and arrange you to attend Aegon's coronation

>You were pleasant, smiling when you had to, staying right at your husband's side, one may think of you as tame

>You even let Aemond fancy himself your hero, standing before you when Meleys interrumpted the ceremony

>Rhaenys looked at you, you knew she could not steal you away from this, so in her eyes, you imagined her apology

>You decided you will come back to your family, and so, after Aegon's coronation, you told Alicent you needed to go to the Sept, being so throughly shaken. As Aemond said you needed to be guarded all day long, you asked for Daeron to accompany you. Aemond would have never allowed it, but Aemond was not there, he was with the small council talking about recruiting the loyalty of different houses

>Once in the Sept, after praying, you looked at Daeron, it pained you to ask

>"Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"You are married to my brother, my lady"

>"We know what happened. And I did not ask you that"

>"It is improper for us to talk this way"

>You felt rejected, but once again asked "Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"I do" he bashfully responded

>"Enough to run away with me?"

>"Don't make me choose between honor and love"

>"I fear I have to"

>"Enough to run away with you"

>"Then meet me at the dragonpit at the hour of the bat"

>"Y/N, please-"

>"I will run regardless, but I would rather you are with me"

>You rose from your knees looking at him

>He came closer, your lips were near, but not touching, you could feel his breath

>"Kiss me once we're far away, do whatever you desire then" you say before leaving the Sept

>You decided to wait in the library until it was time to go, on your way, ser Criston asked if he could scort you there, you were reluctant, but skillfully lied and said it would be a pleasure

>"My lady, may I speak plainly to you?"

>"You have my permission"

>"I saw you asked for prince Daeron to accompany you in your prayers. Please don't look for him, he loves you, my lady" he made a melancholic pause, and again, his hand ghosted over your shoulder, his face close to yours "And noble ladies only run away with the knights in tales and songs"

>"I understand"

>Ser Criston's words left you with a strange feeling, he seemed sincere, did he know something you did not? Maybe you should wait before running, maybe you should find a better way to do it

>But you remained firm, and slipped out of bed once Aemond was asleep

>You went to the dragonpit, singing to the dragons, and hoping for Dagahrion to come back, if not, you'd have to leave on Tessarion

>You heard steps, thinking it was the dragonkeepers, you hid

>"Riñaaa~" you heard Aemond's voice, and you feared. You don't know if he would be capable of doing you harm, but you'd rather keep wondering

>His voice kept chasing you, in a mocking tone

>Until he finally found you

>You were a the center, and you felt the gazes of the dragons, but by far the fiercest one was Aemond's

>He pressed you against the wall, his sword unsheathed

>His body was pressed against yours, you felt him practically vibrating with wrath

>"I have wanted you for years, yet I held back, I was patient and devoted, and you run away at the first chance you get" he spat

>"I guess we had a rocky two-day marriage" if you were dying, you were doing it with your head high

>"I should have broke you, but I was a fool" it was all tension, you did not know if he would snap, or when would he, and kill you or gravely injure you

>He grabbed your face with his sword still pressing and threatening to break your skin

>He kissed you roughly, like he wanted to mark you as well as harm you, like he was tasting both heaven and steel

>When you were recovering your breath, you spoke "will you slay me?"

>"I will take you back and treat you like the backstabbing bastard cunt you are, the way I should always have" you knew this was probably the last time you will be like this, unbroken, whole

>You missed him back, tasting all the poison inside him, it was messy, rough, teeth crashing, you took him like he was your last breath. You were just saving courage

>All that could be heard was your labored breathing, Aemond's sword never moving. You felt an ache in your chest, you were scared. You wished for the mother, the celestial mother, the one that never left you, unlike every other woman you had though of as a mother. You wished for your father, although violent and rude, unpredictable and sour, he loved you with his whole heart, body and soul

>Maybe you were just going to make a fool of yourself, you hoped so, that Aemond would just laugh at you

>You took a breath of the second-hand air, smoky and anything but clean, and when your lungs were full, you screamed so loud your throat felt raspy

>"Dracarys!"

>Dragons obey their masters, and Dagahrion was not here, so it would work, supposedly

>The last thing you saw was the startled face of your husband when all the dragons around you spat scorching hot fire and burned both bodies

>Less than an hour later, prince Daeron found your remains. Some dragonkeepers said your voice commanded all the dragons to attack, others say that it was impossible, that it must have been Vhagar trying to kill you by Aemond's command, accidentally getting caught in-between

>The death of lady Y/N Targaryen, daughter of prince Daemon Targaryen, [allegedly] at hands of her own husband, Aemond Targaryen made the dance of dragons a conflict of fire and blood

#dragon jaws #yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #yandere daeron targaryen #daeron targaryen x reader #yandere targaryens

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

Christian ‘angry bird’ Horner finding out about your and maxs little wind up on the car

The Real Prize - Consequences || MV1

Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High

You were drowsy, your feet still tangled in the bed that was empty on one side but it Christian’s voice that woke you up.

“Max, we need to have a little chat.”

“Is this about the party? We have been celebrating winning the championship for weeks now, can’t we have one night-”

“I believe these belong to you.”

You drew the sheet around your body and crept to the bedroom door, peeking through the crack where it hadn’t been closed completely.

“Where did you get those!” Max whispered harshly, his hand snatching the item you didn’t have time to see.

“Well, interesting story you see. Those were inside the cockpit of the RB19. I assume you would have no idea about that though, would you?”

Max hid his hand behind his back and you slapped a hand over your mouth as you gasped. You had forgotten all about your panties when you left the storage room, never even thought about where they had ended up.

“Not a clue,” Max murmured as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Good, then we will never mention this again,” Christian stated with a no-nonsense nod. “I was young too once, Max. Just try to be a little more careful in the future, for her sake and yours. If something like this got out…it’s always the woman who suffers.”

Max’s face turned serious and he realised the position he had put you in. He thought himself as invincible but you didn’t have the same immunity he found through his infamy. “I’ll be more careful,” he promised.

He walked his boss back to the door and said their goodbyes before you watched Max hide the panties beneath the pile of last night's clothes.

“I heard him, you don’t have to hide it,” you said as you opened the door wider.

“I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed,” he admitted as he stepped into the room. He took your hand and led you to the bed where he pulled you down into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, we both made the choice, and it was fun.” You covered your face as it felt hotter than the sun. “I just don’t know how I am going to face him again.”

“If it helps, him and Geri were caught joining the mile high club on my plane.” Max grimaced at the memory of getting drunk on a long haul flight. He had stumbled off to the bed to find it already occupied.

You were stunned for a moment, still trying to imagine that happening before your head fell back with a laugh. “No, that doesn’t help at all.”

#ollie answers #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic

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vilsoo · 3 months

Text

prize counter girl ☆ twelve

➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader

you've been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he's addicted. but it wasn't until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.

chapter warnings. recorded masturbation, sex toys, squirting, sexual tension, wet dreams.

notes. the pov has been switched from michael’s pov to the reader’s pov for this chapter :) i’ll be doing this for some chapters in the future as well.

pcg materlist • previous • chapter thirteen

“I’ve been wanting to do this to you… for so fucking long…”

Nothing could compare to the arousal pounding in your pussy, the way Michael— your hot manager— settled right between your legs, kissing your clit right through your soaking panties. He’s definitely the type to enjoy giving pleasure, to want to make you feel good because he prioritizes your needs. Looking down and seeing him drizzling kisses on your skin, worshipping every inch of your body from between your thighs and up to your stomach, your chest, your neck, and then to your sweet lips.

He has your thighs resting on your shoulders as he licks your cunt, enjoying every flick of his tongue and the way he would suck and kiss on your clit. He was so greedy with it, devouring your pussy like it like his last meal on earth as he holds your thighs down for you to stop squirming. Stuffed right in between them that he could also suffocate; but you’d bet he’d love that.

“I always imagined you’d taste so good… Mm, you’re so sweet.”

“I can’t get enough of this pussy, baby.”

“I need you. Now. Stay right there and keep your fucking legs open for me.”

You were soaked, completely drenched that your arousal trailed down from your cunt and left a mark on your silk sheets. If he only knew how desperately your body ached and writhed for him every day and every night, with him and without him. Your thoughts become incoherent when his cock was brushing against your clit, the same cock that utterly surprised you during your first video chat together. Michael’s size was perfect, so perfect that every fraction of it imprinted in your mind. And you took the opportunity that one night in the supply closet to finally feel it in your hands, to even taste him and his sweet cum…

“Please, Michael. I really— I really need— I can’t…”

“You can’t what, pretty girl? What are you begging for, hm?”

All you could do was whine in such carnal heat. Who knew that a man like Michael could render you as a needy, deprived slut that’s good for nothing but a fuck? Going brainless when his cock is finally inside you, raking against your insides as if he was molding your cunt to hug his cock perfectly. He pulled out for a brief second, then slammed back inside your drenched pussy, fucking into you so good that your body was sinking into your mattress.

This was everything you ever wanted with him; one of your heated fantasies that comes and goes across your mind. It felt so real. Way too real.

But just as you were about to come, your eyes suddenly flung open to your darkened room. It took a few moments to adjust to reality, rapidly darting at every corner of your room in confusion and then glancing at your digital clock showing 3:21 AM. The silver moonshine was peaking through your blinds and the ambiance of late night city traffic could be heard.

You sat up and panted heavily, feeling your heart thundering in your chest. It took a few seconds to calm down, to finally breathe normally. But once your brain solidified the dream you just experienced, your heart began pounding in your chest again.

A wet dream.

A very vivid dream sequence of Michael, eating you out and having sex with you right on your own bed…

Suddenly your heart was not the only thing pounding right now. Once your brain processed the dream, you started ruminating on everything. This nocturnal emission was so intense that there could be a possibility you had an orgasm in your sleep. Not that that hasn’t happened before, but with Michael, the man you’re now dating that started to invade your dreams, your arousal stirred erratically. From such a hot and intense wet dream, you took your hand and chafed your finger against your panties. Just as you expected; soaked and drenched.

You can’t what, pretty girl? What are you begging for?

If only that were all real. If only Michael was here, hovering over you, dirty talking in your ear and fucking you so good. Sometimes you let your imagination get the best of you and think he’d be the type to dirty talk like that. In reality, you’re very fond of him; how adorable it was seeing him all flustered from you that he just couldn't stand it. This awakens a side of you of taking control; showing no mercy to him and teasing him so cruelly. So cruel that he would hate it and grow frustrated, gaining the ability to cascade his dominance over you.

Your needy pussy was aching, throbbing, pulsing, literally flexing over nothing from all these fantasies. And since you were wide awake and horny at 3AM, there’s no way in hell you could go back to sleep now. With your fingers slowly rubbing your clit, you needed to take care of this.

Sure, all your toys could definitely help. Your collection of various sex toys that you record yourself with could resolve this issue and make you come so fast that you’d pass out and fall right back to sleep. But what you really yearned for was Michael, who could not only take care of you and satiate your desires, but could make your nights feel less… lonely. Intimacy and connection was what you craved the most, after all.

You missed him. Dearly.

Now you’re horny, sad, and lonely at 3AM.

Without wasting any minute now, you reached over to the bottom drawer of your nightstand, finding the pink vibrating dildo hidden inside a dust-free pouch. Then you suddenly glance at your tripod with the ring light standing beside your body mirror; it didn’t cross your mind about recording yourself at all today. You just wanted to get your orgasm(s) and go right back to sleep. But taking advantage of the fact that Michael watches your content and enjoys them all, you wanted to show him exactly what he does to you.

As you set up your tripod, your phone, the pink lighting, and the angle, it felt as if you were recording this for Michael. Him, and only him buried in your mind, wanting to play with yourself just for him. Sure, your loyal followers and fans could get off to this, but they’ll never know how Michael was the lucky man in your mind tonight. They’ll never know that you were only showing how much of a desperate slut you were for him.

Panties to the side, you wanted this orgasm more than ever that you couldn’t waste time taking them off or even engaging in slow foreplay. You couldn’t even set up the app you use to make a livestream; instead you swiped straight to your phone camera from your lock screen and pressed record. If you managed to stay awake after making yourself come so hard multiple times tonight, you’d definitely upload this to your NSFW Twitter, which is also where Michael follows you on. Your eyes were cropped out the camera, only revealing your mouth, your bare breasts, and of course, your cunt.

There was no need for lube since it was so slick and soppy for your silicone dildo to rub on, your breath hitching from how sensitive you were. You raise your legs higher and spread them wider for the camera as you turn the vibration mode on. Shock waves of pleasure pulsed through you that your hips began to stutter and squirm. You couldn’t even contain your moans and whines, growing more desperate and urgent as your imagination runs wild replaying the dream.

Usually whenever you livestream with your sex toys, you always start off so slow and coy, just to tease and engage your viewers. But since you were so impatient, you immediately slide the vibrating dildo inside your soaking pussy and threw your head back, thrusting it faster and deeper inside you. Your eyes fell half-lidded, convulsing around your dildo hitting that sensitive spot that made you lose control over yourself. Letting your mind get taken over by the desperate sensation of Michael, craving for him to be the one fucking his thick cock inside of you until you’re knocked out of air.

You needed this, you needed him. And just by imagining your dildo as him fucking you, you tried so hard not to moan or scream his name on camera. You were so dizzy with desire, dizzy by the heated fantasies you so desperately wish to come true any moment now. As you thrusted the dildo faster and hearing the lewd sounds of your juices fill your room, you can feel your orgasm starting to blossom in your stomach and your walls clenching erratically.

That’s it, pretty girl. Fuck that pussy for me.

Make a mess all over yourself. Show how much of a slut you are for me.

Imagining him dirty talking and talking you through it had your orgasm rippling and pounding so intensely that you're crying two octaves higher than you're used to. You can hear yourself squelching, pushing out clear fluids that sent your mind in a haze. Coming so hard and fast over camera, even recording yourself squirting all over your dildo and on your sheets. All within the span of two and a half minutes.

After you caught your breath and drifted back to reality, you couldn’t help but grin at the camera like an eager little slut, even sliding a finger inside your cunt to taste yourself and then rapidly slapping the dildo on your cunt. You were a mess and it was all because of the thought of Michael. You’re wrecked, and he’s never even touched you yet. You ease another two fingers into your drooling cunt, the camera catching the glint of your arousal. So nasty, so filthy, so sloppy… just for him.

Before you could forget, you stopped recording and headed straight to your NSFW Twitter. Only cropping the last 40 seconds to post as a short clip, which is where you were fucking yourself hard and building up your orgasm until you made a hot mess of yourself. You even hinted in the caption that this was for Michael, hoping he was still awake right now to see it…

thinking of you xx

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The next day when you were in the supply closet restocking the candy for the prize counter, you were startled by Michael watching you with a small smirk on his face, his body slanting against the door frame like he was blocking you from getting out. Just the thought of him having his eyes on you even if you were completely unaware of his presence made your heart leap.

“Michael,” you chuckled nervously, this time struggling to make eye contact with him. Even if you tried your best to look him in the face, your stomach contorted, as if the butterflies were gutting you inside. You really couldn’t look him in the eyes after last night, after your dream…

He didn’t reply, which made the tension in the supply closet so thick it was impossible to slice. His eyes were the one searching for your face, slanting his head evoking such curiosity. You allowed him to step forward and draw closer just to invade your space, to make the gap between you two thinner. Your gaze lingers on his forearms revealed from his dress shirt sleeves rolled up, trailing up and finally holding meek eye contact with him.

The lust was pooling in your eyes that he could see it, he could sense it. Doe-eyed, slothful, and yearning… The epitome of submission. The glimmer in your eyes that makes him lose his mind, he felt inclined to lift your chin up with the crook of his index finger, and you instantly melted inside. He was so fine, you fought the urge to drop down on your knees and unbuckle his belt, tasting his cock again in the same fucking closet.

“Was that video you just posted… for me?” he mutters lowly, lips just barely brushing each other’s that if you were to lean in ever so slightly, you could just kiss him.

“…Maybe,” you coaxed, a small smile creeping in the corner of your lips. “Why, did you like it?”

He inhales sharply, as if he had pent up frustration from watching you fuck yourself silly and posting it, that the both of you knew so well that if you were anywhere else alone besides the pizzaplex, you’d get it on right now. Shamelessly tearing each other’s clothes off, feeling each other’s skin, desiring to recreate each forbidden, nasty fantasy that you both have for each other…

With his finger still holding your chin, you feel him take his thumb and ever so lightly brush it against your bottom lip. Involuntarily perching your mouth slightly open for him, he caresses your bottom lip with your thumb. The two of you were lost in your own worlds, lost in your addicting desires. The way you crave each other was so fervent, yet so dangerous because of how impossible it was to fight the intense urge everyday to not spend more time together.

Risking each other’s employment and breaking the fraternization policy every day, hell, even if you were fantasizing about each other you felt like you were bound to get fired anytime. But the two of you didn’t care— you were both slaves to each other’s temptations.

“I’d like it more… if you didn’t hold back on screaming my name.”

#( ♥︎ ) — prize counter girl.#michael afton #michael afton smut #fnaf smut #michael afton x reader #fnaf x reader #michael afton x you #fnaf x you

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americaswritings · 10 months

Text

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part III

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of killing, mentions of torture, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus realizes he's still a part of the Capitol's games and that your life is the prize.

Words: around 3k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I never expected this to turn into a story, but here we are! I really hope you enjoy it!! Also I'm halfway through the book now and planning to watch the movie (in English then) again afterwards! I'm so excited!! :)

If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Part II | Masterlist

All Coriolanus had wanted was to follow you that night.

Seeing you in the arena had been painful. Watching them use his voice to torment you had been worse. And thinking he would never see you again had topped it all.

But watching you walk away from him? That was a new kind of pain.

Everyone left Coriolanus life. First his mother and his little sister. Then his father had followed. All he had left were the Grandma'am and Tigris, but it didn't feel that way with them so far away.

But here he could have you, if he allowed himself it. And God how he wanted to. His days as a peacekeeper were dull and lifeless, but you had brought colour and a flicker of hope into his life.

There had never been the choice between you and the scholarship, but suddenly there was and he didn't know how he could decide between the path he had always firmly believed was his and the girl he had never seen coming.

But there too many reasons holding him back. You belonged to different worlds. That would never change.

It was a cruel kind of knowledge.

Every time he tried to forget about you he awoke sweating. You haunted his dreams.

The look of betrayal on your face as you had realized he would return to the capitol. That even after he had admitted they had used his own voice to manipulate you, he would still go back and pretend it hadn't happened. That he was still the same boy.

He dreamed about your body. About sacred moments of peace and quiet the two of you, the outside world forgotten. About your laugh and the spark in your eyes and that you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms.

He dreamed about every scenario involving your death his brain seemed to come up with. Death in the arena. Death because he had manipulated your chances. Death because he had let you go.

When he heard Tigris voice for the first time since he had been sent to the districts over the phone the relief almost made him cry. He wished he could tell her about his conflicted emotions, but he couldn't risk anyone overhearing him.

Besides, he didn't know if he could ever admit to her the true extent of his feelings. It was embarrassing that of all people he had fallen for a weak girl from the district.

But you were so much more than that to him. It was why it had been so painful to watch you go. Because until that moment some part of him seemed to have hold onto the improbable hope that you would start a life in the capitol together.

As the winner of the games he had assumed it could be possible. That people respected you enough that he could be seen with you and that you wouldn't be forced to return to your life of shreds and dirt.

But you had shown him that this was no future you could ever imagine. And just as you weren’t willing to change for him, he couldn’t do it for you either. Even though you loved each other your love was not enough.

But then why did it hurt so much?

"Everything okay?", he asked Tigris to distract himself from his thoughts. It was another worry that made his heart heavy, the one for his family. Their money was still as tight and with him gone there was not much he could do for them now.

He earned too little, could barely pay for his own foot and housing. Was this how the people in the districts felt? Stuck in a constant loop of worry, fear and work that would never pay off? Unlike them he would never accept such a fate. Unlike them he didn’t belong here.

"We're okay." He heard an edge to Tigris voice, "but there's something you should know about."

His posture stiffened and he gazed around, making sure no one was there. "What is it?"

"Everyone's talking about you and the girl in the capitol." His fingers clenched around the steel. "What are they saying?"

"Never in the history of the games did the gamemakers ever do what they did there with your voice." "He was aware of it, so he waited for her to elaborate. "But why use your voice? The voice of her mentor. Why not someone from her family, someone she cares about?"

To hear Tigris say that you didn't care about him, that he was nothing more than your mentor hurt, but he pushed the anger away. "She doesn't really have family left. And she trusts me. So it makes sense."

"Then why did they only use it on her? Why didn't they try to manipulate anyone else?"

He let out an impatient sigh. "I don't know. They didn't tell me they would do it. But it was our task to make our tributes trust us and I was the only one who succeeded."

"But they didn't, Coryo."

Momentarily he forgot what he was about to say and took in a breath. What was Tigris implying? "It was your task to be a good mentor. Get the people's attention and make them root for her. But making her trust you was your decision."

"Didn't you tell me I should do it?" He sounded tired and accusing and he knew his cousin heard it in his voice. "Yeah, but I didn't expect-", she trailed of and he waited for her to continue, frustrated when he realized she wouldn't.

"She really trusts you, you know that, right?" He was growing more irritated with this conversation by the second. "I think I did a good job, if that's what you're asking."

"My God Coryo, that's not what I mean!" She exhaled loudly at the other side. "We all saw how scared she was for you. For her mentor. For someone from the capitol."

Her words were another reminder how different the two of you were. He hated it.

"We all saw that you care about her too. You kept visiting her. You two talked so much even when the cameras weren't near and everyone who was in the same room saw how terrified you were for her in the arena. And then, against all odds, she wins and you disappear without another word."

She was speaking softer now, probably expecting the defensiveness he felt rising in him. She knew him well. "They gave me a task. I did what I had to. That's all."

Tigris was silent for a moment. "Even if it were true, you did your job a little too well. The people are obsessed with it! With you and her, the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute. A Snow and the girl from ashes."

Tigris was speaking slowly, like she was afraid she was overwhelming him with the news and her tone was grave and serious. It was the polar opposite to the hope he felt.

It wasn't the narrative he would have chosen, but a story meant attention and attention meant relevance. If it was true and Tigris was right, they couldn't keep him hidden in the districts much longer.

People wouldn't just accept the two of you together, they would demand it.

His lips curled into a smile. He could have never imaged a better way to get out of here and to convince you to come with him. What reason did you have to say no now?

"Then why do you sound so fearful?"

Tigris took in a deep breath.

"It's the people that love it. You know how they are, always looking for gossip and a good story to keep them entertained enough to forget about their own miserable lives. But-", she paused, "the people are not the capitol. Everyone who's got something to say in Panem hates it. It sends the wrong message, Coryo. That the people from the capitol and the people from the district could be equals. The whole point of the hunger games is to demonstrate supremacy and power. They don't want a girl from a district turning into a star and having a sweet little romance with one of their own."

His smile faded. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and suddenly the room was too small, the walls to high. With each second it was getting harder to breathe. The uniform- he needed to get out of this damn uniform!

"Coryo?"

Tigris voice sounded far away as he struggled between losing himself to his fears and keeping a composed and prideful image.

He had realized the situation he was in was far from ideal before, but having the capitol, the very people he needed to impress as his enemy could- no would destroy his whole life!

And yours too.

The future he had just seen before his eyes ruined by words of love.

"What do you think they'll-", he still couldn't catch his breath. He needed these peoples on his side, not against him. How had he ended up here, so useless and powerless?

No! He needed to keep it together! He would get through this, like he always did. He would find a way to make this work for him or if there was none, he would come up with something else...

He was smart and his name still meant something. Snow always lands on top.

"I don't know what they’ll do." Tigris answered his question without him having to finish it. The worry in her voice did nothing to quieten his own. "But it's only a matter of time until they will have to act. I just- I wanted to warn you, Coryo."

He nodded, more to himself than her. "I will be fine." He had regained his composure and his voice was perfectly emotionless.

"I am worried for you. I think they might try to-"

He would never find out, if Tigris suspicions had been right, because before she could finish her sentence the call cut off.

Had they listened again?

Was he even safe here anymore?

Two more days passed before they came for him.

Two days he had spent pondering his choices yet felt no confidence as he stepped in front of the commander. His posture was as straight and effortless as always, so one would have guessed he was secretly far from calm.

He had expected to meet his superior in an official building, something elegant, if that even existed in the districts, but instead he was led to a distant part of a warehouse, where the lights flickered and spider webs hung heavy.

Coriolanus saluted in front of the man, then waited patiently for him to speak. He hoped no one could see past his guard, noticed how fast his heart was beating.

"I was informed about certain rumours circling the streets of the capitol these days. I take it you have heard about them too?"

He gave a short nod, forcing his face to remain blank. The man, who he assumed to be in his late fifties took a step closer. His hair was completely grey, except for one white strand. It gave him an upper look that didn't suit the scenery of the district.

Was he from the capitol? He wasn't dressed like it though; he was wearing the peacekeeper uniform, but something told Coriolanus it was a disguise of his real power. The capitol liked their games.

"So what do you think?"

"I think-", he began, but his voice got interrupted by a painfilled scream. His eyes flickered to the door, but it was locked, either side guarded by a peacekeeper. None of them moved and when he turned back to the commander he simply weaved his hand, urging him to continue.

Coriolanus swallowed, taken off-guard by the noise but pulling himself together. "I think it's just that- rumours. Eventually the public will take an interest in different news."

"Ahh, so you don‘t think such a narrative could have an impact on the political climate both in the districts and the caption? That it could send the wrong image?“

Coriolanus pressed his lips together. “I believe-“, but again a cry disrupted his attempt at an answer. It could not be a coincidence that they had chosen this place to talk to him. It had probably been arranged to shaken his composure and unsettle him. He hated to admit that it worked.

It was probably just a thief, paying for her sins. No one that deserved his attention. Yet it was unnerving, a subtle reminder just how quickly he could manoeuver himself into the same position.

“Oh don‘t tell me that’s bothering you?” The man in front of him raised his brows. “You should be familiar with the sound of traitors. So what is it you wanted to say?“

Coriolanus straightened his shoulders, but this time the sound was louder, clearer. It was a scream that cut through the air and it was one he knew too well.

No.

“Mr. Snow, what was it you were saying?“

He blinked in irritation and straightened his shoulders when he realized his loss of posture.

“I was saying that the capitol could own it. Make it their own narrative. A tribute developing…an infatuation“, he felt sick, “with her mentor could be-“ Another scream. He felt his composure crumble. The man tilted his head. He was silently laughing about him, Coriolanus was certain about it. “…helpful“, he finished, clearly distracted by the background noises.

They sounded too familiar, had been the sound of his many nightmares and a silent fear crept up his spine.

What if this was real? What if it wasn‘t his mind playing tricks on him, making everything about you? Seeing, hearing you everywhere..

“So you affirm that this- infatuation as you call it is one-sided and you hold no feelings for you tribute?“

Coriolanus lifted his chin. “I merely did my job. I earned the public’s attention and got them interested in the games again. I turned a tribute with no chances into a winner.“

“So you‘re saying the girl doesn‘t mean anything to you?“

He put on a smile that didn‘t reach his eyes. “I assure you and everyone in the capitol that I do not have any connection to the girl beyond the mentorship and that I have no interest or care for her fate now that I completed my task.“

He had always tried to mask the truth or bend it when he felt he needed to, but lying was a different kind of game. One he felt he was losing.

He could tell himself he did this to protect you. But the reality was that he didn’t know if he did.

No, he had to think of his own life now. It was better this way. He had helped save your life once. Now it was time for you to walk your own path.

“Coriolanus!“ He flinched. It was too late to pretend he hadn‘t, everyone had seen it, but he couldn‘t not react when he heard your desperate voice calling his name.

This whole time his instinct had told him that he was right. That the sounds belonged to you and this was more than just a set-up to unnerve him.

It was a trap.

“What is this?“ His voice came out too sharp and he willed himself to remain calm, but it was impossible, if you were here and you were hurt.

“Oh, it should not be of concern for you as you just told us you do not have any interest in the girl‘s fate.“

Had he just said that? In his head it had sounded much more- convincing. But hearing his own words reflected back to him just made him realise how pathetic they sounded.

They could not be farer from the truth.

“As her mentor I would like to know what you are accusing her of“, he tried a different approach, but it was senseless.

“Oh but Mr. Snow, she is not your tribute anymore. Like you said there is no connection between you and the girl.“

His commander took a step towards him. “Now tell me, which one is the lie?“

Coriolanus swallowed. It took all of him to stand still and keep himself from running after your voice. His body was trembling from the effort. Too long he had been trapped behind a screen, unable to do anything to help you.

But here he could.

Another scream broke the silence. Despite his will he flinched again and closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay strong, remain unaffected. But with each sound he felt himself losing control and a hatred took over his instinct.

“I personally believe you have been lying to us for a long time now, Coriolanus. I can see it on your face. But I would like to hear it out of your own mouth.“

Another step closer. Another cry.

“Say it.“

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists.

“SAY IT!“

His fist connected with the man’s jaw before he could even think about what he was doing. He saw the other two peacekeepers at the door reaching for their weapons, but he was faster and had shot them with his own in an instant.

Without another look at them he ran for the door, following your pleas. His heart was racing as he raced through the corridors and tried to locate where it was coming from.

Hopefully he wasn‘t too late. No, he couldn‘t think like that! Yet the thought of what he might get to see tore at him. He should have acted sooner, he should have- killed these men before they even got the chance to open their mouths. It had been a lost game from the beginning and he was done being their paying piece.

“Coriolanus!“

He had almost made it. Just another room…

Coriolanus pushed it open with so much force that the door crashed against the wall and broke out of its hinges.

Breathing heavily and sweating he came to an abrupt stop and took in the room. It was small, dimly lit, empty. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the only thing in the room. It was a table and on it-

A cage with a bird.

Part IV

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theostrophywife · 10 months

Text

silver lining.

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

song inspiration: bathroom by montell fish.

author's note: this is just filth. don't imagine draco looking at you like the cover picture when you're on your knees for him. don't do it.

The rosewood door clicked shut as Draco hastily ushered you inside. Your heels echoed against the marble tile, the train of your velvet dress kissing the floor as you faced your boyfriend with anticipation.

Beyond the lavish bathroom, the sounds of the soirée filtered through the packed halls of Malfoy Manor. Nearly everyone who was anyone in the upper echelons of society was present for tonight’s festivities, which meant that you were supposed to be on your best behavior.

A task that you so arduously failed the second you caught sight of Draco.

In truth, you couldn’t be blamed. Your boyfriend had no business looking that delectable. When he greeted you at the door earlier that night, you nearly swooned. The suit that adorned his body was perfectly tailored, showing off his lithe and lean frame. It cinched at his midsection, sending your gaze further down and letting your imagination run wild with images of you wrapping your legs around his trim waist. The deep navy color accentuated his silver eyes and they flashed like streaks of lightning as his gaze descended on you.

Mischief danced on his features as Draco indulged in the sight of you, his gaze snagging on your curves, perfectly hugged by velvet fabric that matched the color of his suit. The dress was delivered to your door early that morning along with the diamonds that dripped from your ears and fingers. The pièce de résistance, a gorgeous sapphire necklace, hung proudly around your neck. It was easily recognizable as a Malfoy family heirloom. One that Narcissa had worn out and about in countless society events. Draco’s message was clear. He intended to make you a Malfoy soon enough.

The note that accompanied the necklace said as much. Your boyfriend simply wrote: A jewel for my jewel. See you tonight, my future wife as though he hadn't splurged a year's worth of wages on the dress alone. To Draco, money wasn't an object. Not if it meant making you happy.

As the Malfoys welcomed your family into the manor, Draco swept you in by your waist. He caressed your cheek, the cold bite of his rings kissing your skin as his fingers slipped down to wrap around your neck possessively.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Draco said as he pressed a chaste peck against your lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, likely for the benefit of your parents. You doubted that Draco’s usual affections for you would be deemed appropriate in their eyes. Your boyfriend seemed to know this too because he smirked, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I can’t wait to rip this dress to shreds tonight.”

That little comment ignited a fire within you. As the night progressed, you couldn’t stop staring at your boyfriend. Thinking of all the filthy things you’d rather be doing in his bedroom instead of paying attention to the millionth what a beautiful couple you make or how refreshing it is to see young love at work comments that various guests showered you with. You already knew that you and Draco were the perfect couple. He repeated this sentiment to you every day. Not just with words, but with his actions as well.

Draco was possessive in every sense of the word. Like his namesake, there was a dragon underneath that handsome face, hoarding his most prized possession—you—with unmatched devotion. Your boyfriend showered you with affection and you loved every second of it. Selfish as it was, you weren’t well pleased at the prospect of sharing his attention even for a few hours. You were utterly spoiled, to be sure. But Draco had made you that way.

By the time that dinner started, food was the last thing on your mind. You probably would’ve been more well-behaved if your friends were present to help take your mind off of things, but traitors that they were, they had left you all alone to simmer in your sinful thoughts. Pansy and Blaise were off on holiday in the Maldives while Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo disappeared soon after their required appearances. Knowing the boys, they were probably in the gardens getting higher than a hippogriff.

You felt envious. The last thing you wanted to do was sit through a stuffy dinner, smiling cordially at the high profile guests around you and acting like the prim and proper aristocrat that your parents raised you to be. Draco was certainly faring better than you at the moment. The charm and confidence came naturally to him. He leaned back against his wingback chair, sipping red wine and conversing with the Minister of Magic like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Through the crystal glass, you examined him with a smile. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back and not a single strand was out of place. Silver rings adorned his knuckles, which were loosely curled around his wine glass. You couldn’t help but think that his fingers would look better wrapped around your neck, but perhaps that was the alcohol talking.

Draco licked his lips, which were now stained a pretty crimson color. You wondered if he'd taste like wine when you kissed him, which you couldn't wait to do. Kiss, lick, suck. All over. Every single inch. You flushed as Draco's gaze trailed over to you. A sly smirk curled against his lips as he leaned in.

“Darling, is everything alright? You’ve barely touched your food and yet you look absolutely ravenous.” His cold breath tickled your cheek. “Hungry for something else, are we?”

A devious expression flickered through his features as your cheeks heated. Your boyfriend knew exactly what he was doing. He was being a tease, plain and simple.

“What if I am, Draco?” you replied, placing your hand on his thigh. Draco’s breath hitched as he looked down at your perfectly manicured hand.

His voice was low and husky, tinged with need. “You can devour me all you’d like after this dinner, princess.”

“You know I’ve never been patient.” You pouted, causing Draco to chuckle lightly. “And I’ve been waiting all night.”

Draco chuckled darkly, patting your hand. “Behave, darling. I promise to reward you after.”

You weren’t satisfied with that answer. Draco was determined to leave it at that, but you had other ideas. Dating him meant that no wasn’t really in your vernacular. Draco doted on you, spoiled you beyond belief, and most importantly, he never made you wait. You were used to getting what you wanted, when you wanted. Tonight would be no different.

As Draco returned to his conversation with the minister, you busied yourself with the guests around you. The Greengrass sisters were gushing about the dresses you had all picked out for the Yule Ball, while their parents commented on your recent charity work. You took it all in stride, accepting each compliment gracefully while inching your hand higher up Draco’s leg.

Lucius had joined the conversation, bragging about Draco’s most recent accomplishments. Narcissa smiled fondly at her beloved son.

“We’re quite proud of our Draco,” she said with a smile. The older woman looked positively regal and intimidating as always, but there was a warmth to her as she turned in your direction. “Especially since he’s brought the wonderful Y/N into our lives. If he plays his cards right, then we may be adding another Malfoy to our midst soon. Though I already think of her as a daughter.”

You beamed. “Thank you, Cissy.”

Draco cleared his throat as you inched your hand higher, toying with the seam of his pants. The minister was none the wiser as he turned his attention towards the both of you.

“You two make a very handsome couple indeed.”

You flashed the minister a charming smile as you palmed Draco through his trousers. He was hard as a rock and positively delicious against your palm. You rubbed over him slowly, making him jolt from the contact. “Do you hear that, Draco? Why, I think we have the minister’s approval.”

Your boyfriend nearly spilled his glass of wine when you squeezed him between your fingers.

The minister furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you quite alright, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Splendid,” Draco replied through gritted teeth. “Though I just recalled, Y/N and I must check up on dessert. She needs to practice if she’s to be lady of the manor soon.”

Draco subtly removed your hand from his lap. Ever the perfect gentleman, he stood up and gallantly offered you his arm. “Shall we, darling?”

Hiding your smirk was nearly impossible. Though he appeared calm and collected, you knew Draco well enough to clock the tick in his jaw. Your boyfriend was pissed. This was further confirmed by the silence that followed as he escorted you through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Not a single word or glance was spared in your direction.

Instead, Draco opened the door to the bathroom and watched as you ducked inside. Before you could even speak, Draco pushed you against the door. One hand wrapped around your throat while the other gripped your waist.

His silver eyes flashed with anger. “You want to tell me what that was back there, princess?”

The anger radiating off of him in waves awakened a sick sort of thrill within you. You lifted your chin defiantly, nearly putting a crick in your neck as you glanced up at Draco. Every in your tallest heels, he still towered a good foot over you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Draco. It’s not my fault that you’re all hot and bothered over a simple touch.”

“A simple touch?” He asked, quirking a pale brow at you. From his tone, you could tell that his patience was wearing thin. “Darling, you were practically clawing at my trousers. In front of our parents. In front of the bloody minister. Are you so desperate for me that you couldn’t wait until the end of the night?”

“What if I was? What are you going to do about it, Draco?”

He flashed you in irritated glare. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, my love. You know better than to test my patience.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun.”

“Is it? Well, it isn’t fun for me.” Draco grabbed your hand and ran it over his length. “Do you feel that? You’ve caused this problem, darling. By acting like a needy little slut all night and riling me up. Now you’re going to fix it.”

“And if I say no?”

Draco squeezed your throat so hard that your air supply was momentarily cut off. “Then I’ll just have to put you in your place.”

You smiled. This was exactly what you wanted. Draco clocked your satisfied little smirk. “Don’t think I don’t see that smile. You think you’ve won, don’t you? Well, you won’t be smiling once I fuck you throat until you’re crying and begging me to stop. I’ll make sure you won’t be able to talk for days, let alone grin.”

“It would be a genuine pleasure, Dray.”

“Such a smart mouth on you, hm?” Draco released you from his hold and stared down at you with a menacing grin. “Get on your fucking knees, princess. It's about time you remembered your place."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. You were so turned on that you could barely breathe. As you knelt on the cold tile, Draco unbuckled his belt. You looked up through your lashes with a lust filled gaze as he freed his cock from the constraints of his meticulously pressed trousers. Draco pumped himself and the sight made you groan with need. You tried to reach for him, but he swatted your hand away.

When you whined, Draco responded by taking fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head back. “Open your mouth like the pretty little whore that I know you are.”

Without warning, Draco shoved his fingers into your mouth. You whined, wanting much more than just his digits. He tilted your head back, those silver eyes flashing with irritation at your bratty behavior.

"You think I'd give you my cock without making you work for it first?" He asked with a sneer. "Show me that you can handle my fingers and maybe I'll let you suck me off. I'd like to see if you can still mouth off to me with your lips wrapped around my cock, you fucking brat."

You moaned in response, peering up at him through your lashes as you sucked on his fingers. Draco watched hungrily as you flicked your tongue over his silver rings and wrapped your lips around the Malfoy family crest. He hissed as you coated his digits with saliva, letting him gag you with his long fingers while you gazed lovingly up at him.

"Look at you. You're fucking filthy, darling. Putting on a show for me, hm?" Draco laughed when you nodded eagerly. "I bet you're soaked, princess. So turned on and all I've done is gag you with my fingers. You're such a whore, aren't you?"

You looked up at him and smiled, kissing the tips of his fingers. "Only for you, Draco."

This seemed to please you boyfriend because he leaned down and rewarded you with a sloppy kiss. With a hand around your throat, Draco slipped his tongue into your mouth and groaned when you sucked on it.

"Come on then, darling. Let me fuck that pretty throat."

You swallowed thickly, your lips barely parting before Draco shoved his way in. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat with a sharp thrust. He groaned and picked up the pace. There was no precursor. No gentleness. This was just Draco selfishly abusing your throat for his own pleasure and you loved every second of it.

Draco held nothing back. While he was quite domineering in bed, you’ve never seen him unleashed like this. Your boyfriend was feral, roughly fucking into your throat like it was his god given right. Tears and snot quickly covered your face as he rutted into your mouth over and over again. You were slobbering all over him, leaving lipstick marks all over his cock.

With a particular sharp thrust, Draco flashed you a vicious smile. The hand that wasn't gripping the back of your head tugged the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. He pulled the fabric down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You hissed as he roughly squeezed your tits, alternating between them with equal attention. He flicked his thumb over your stiffened peaks and hit the back of your throat with brutal force. You cried out, your words nothing but an incoherent stream of pleading and pleasure.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, princess? You talked up such a big game, but now you’re crying like a desperate little slut. Oh, you can’t take any more? Am I bruising your pretty little throat? Well, too bad. You asked for it by acting like such a fucking brat. Now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

You moaned at his words, making him throw his head back at the vibrations. His perfectly coiffed hair was now a mess. Platinum locks framed his handsome face, looking like some unholy angel. He panted and moaned, signaling his release. Draco pulled out and positioned the tip of his cock onto your tongue.

“Swallow, darling. Every single fucking drop.”

You were shaken. Your knees ached. Your throat was definitely sore. But it was all worth it to watch your boyfriend come apart above you. Draco’s lips parted, releasing an animalistic groan as he spilled onto your tongue. His eyelids fluttered as he came, those pretty silver eyes rolling back until they disappeared.

Draco looked down, watching intently as you flashed him the load he’d emptied into your mouth before you swallowed obediently. He smiled proudly.

“That’s my good girl.”

He picked you up off of the floor and kissed you, groaning when he tasted himself on your lips. Compared to his earlier actions, the kiss was rather affectionate and endearing. After you had a chance to catch your breath, Draco cleaned you up. With a quick incantation, he vanished the evidence, wiping away the snot, tears, and mascara until you appeared pristine again.

Draco smiled, wrapping a possessive hand around your throat as he kissed your forehead. You whimpered at the slight pressure.

“Poor baby, but you had it coming. Told you I’d ruin your throat.” Your boyfriend murmured, trailing kisses down your neck. “Have you learned your lesson, darling?”

Your voice sounded rough and scratchy when you spoke. “Mhm, I learned that I should make you mad more often. That was so fucking hot, Draco.”

Draco chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, princess. But I love you anyway. Now come on, let’s get back to dinner before anyone suspects the ungodly things I’ve just done to you. If you’re good, maybe I’ll make you see heaven later.”

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll hold you to that, Draco.”

#when i tell yall that i need to be institutionalized for my thoughts about this man #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader

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