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wandaslittleweirdo · 2 months

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Liar

part 1: precious || masterlist

⋆⋆౨ৎ pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚐𝚏!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: The truth always comes to light, even if the liar has done everything in their power to try and keep you from it.

warnings: dubcon, smut, mind control, top!wanda, manipulation/gaslighting, drama tehe, strap usage (R recieving), voyeurism, strap blowjob (W recieving), reader sucks wandas fingers (can you tell I have insane oral fixation?), pet names, small mix of praise kink and degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, strap referred to as dick, Stockholm syndrome, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: this is absolute filth. but fics r all about imagination and having fun, no one will ever stop me from sharing my disgusting thoughts with the internet

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

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It’s been two months since the night of your abduction. You’ve been staying with Wanda and have never been happier.

You remember the day you woke up in her cabin. You were frightened and confused, but she was patient and her peaceful nature soothed you. She carefully explained everything, why you were in her cabin, why you could barely walk, and why you had that cut on your cheek.

You were attacked and chased into the woods. She was your knight and shining armour who had found you laying unconscious in the crunchy autumn leaves while she was hunting. You also vividly recall saying you’d do anything to show how thankful you are, her lips pulling into a big goofy smile.

“Anything, you say?”

And it all just went up from there.

The thought of your life before Wanda never crossed your mind. She always kept you on your toes. One day you’re hiking up mountains with her and the next she’s teaching you how to shoot her shotgun.

“Bam! You got all of the targets first try! That was incredible, Y/N.”

But you didn’t need shooting a gun or slumping your way up mountains to feel like you’re on your toes. Cooking dinner together, watching new shows, going to sleep tangled in each others arms or swimming in the nearby waterfall was just as invigorating, because she made it so.

Wanda took you in and loved you. She feeds you, she shelters you, she protects you. She makes you feel safe and treats you like a princess.

Throughout your bliss, there was only one thing that constantly bothered you. A frustrated thought you kept trying to shove away, but would always float back at some point.

You weren’t allowed to leave the cabin.

Of course, the hunting and the walks were okay, but you could never see what was going on outside of the woods unless it was through the news or Wanda herself. You couldn’t step foot out of the house without Wanda following close behind. When you really acknowledge it, you describe the feeling as if you’re on display, constantly being spied on and never having the privacy every human craves.

Whenever you bring up the fact that she watches you or follows you at seemingly unnecessary times, she explains that it would be rude if you told her she’s being invasive when she’s just protecting you.

She also claims everything outside of the woods is disgusting and you aren’t missing out. She says people are cold and heartless, nothing but a bunch of soul dead blobs walking in their black and white reality everyday.

But in the most peaceful moments, like right now where your arms are wrapped around her torso and your legs tied around one of hers, imitating the position of a clingy koala, everything else doesn’t seem to matter. She gently rakes her hand through your hair and randomly pinches your cheeks, but both sets of eyes remain on the TV.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. We have so much fun together, no one ever goes out and does things anymore! Trust me. Nothing out there is as good as what’s here.”

You reminisce the conversation you had with her the other day, your heart warming as her persuasive words echo through your mind.

Wanda’s right. This is good… I don’t need anyone but her.

“Sweetheart, I have to go to the store. We don’t have any milk or bread.” She taps the top of your head gently, silently asking you to sit up but you only whine and clutch onto her harder. You rub your nose into her soft v neck sweater, feeling her stomach tense as she lets out a dry laugh. “Come on, angel. I’m just getting milk I’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s what my dad said.” You murmur into the wool. She gasps playfully at your humour, a tiny smile on her lips as she flicked the back of your head in an act to scold you. “Don’t joke about stuff like that miss!”

“No! It’s how I cope.” You rub the back of your head and pout at her, reluctantly sitting up onto your knees while an unhappy crease sits itself between your brows. Her smile widens as she gazes at you, nothing but adoration swimming in those viridescent irises.

She pushes your dishevelled hair out of your face and leans in slowly, eyes fixated on your lips. Her kiss is as gentle as ever, her fingers curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer. Every complaint you were ready to throw at her suddenly slips your mind, and all you can think about is how soft her lips feel moving against yours. The hair framing her face smells of her green apple shampoo, a specific something you grew to obsess over.

“Oookay, have to go now.” She pulls back and swiftly puts herself on her feet. She happily escorts herself over to the door to grab her coat and slip her shoes on, the cocky smile never leaving her face.

You fall face forward into the couch while making various irritated and disapproving grumbles. She slides her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, her smile distorting into a sort of impish grin when she specifically hears the words,

“You’re evil, Wanda.”

“Maybe, but you love it.” She laughs softly before slinging her purse over her shoulder and opening the door.

“See you soon, princezná!” You huff at the sound of the door shutting followed by the click of the lock. You could continue to watch a movie… or you could go into your girlfriends closet and steal her clothes.

Excitement starts brewing inside of you as you spring up from the couch and run into your shared bedroom. You yank the closet door open, taking the sleeve of one of her hoodies and rubbing your face into it. The faint smell of sandalwood and a sweet-spicy cinnamon still lingers on it, and now all you can think of is drowning yourself in the mouth watering autumn scent.

You pluck out a red flannel shirt and a dark blue pair of jeans. But as you flip through her many pieces of clothing, a cardboard box in the corner of her top shelf catches your eye. You frown and push yourself onto your tippy toes, groaning and stretching your limbs until you could finally grasp the package.

The box is covered in a thin layer of dust indicating it hasn’t been touched in a while. You giggle excitedly, box in hand as you run over to your shared bed and make yourself comfortable.

We tell each other everything, she must have some dirty secrets in here..

You place your hand on the lid of the laptop, prepared to open it until a sting of guilt stops you. Your excitement fades into adrenaline as you nervously tap your foot against the carpeted floor.

She’ll tell me about this eventually, right?

But she’s had so many opportunities to say something…

Fuck it.

A puzzled expression takes over your features seeing the computer had only nine screens open. They’re all at least 360p, tv static glitching out a video every five or so seconds. Then you notice where the cameras were pointing too. One in Wanda’s room, one covering the area of her living room, one facing towards the kitchen and the others scattered around outside.

Security cameras?

Your eyes flicker to the red circle flashing in the top left corner of the screen, the capital letters “LIVE” typed in next to it. Then, just below that, an even smaller text with todays date. You click it and a list of options pop up, scrolling down and seeing she installed them in 2015.

You excitedly flip back to two months ago, the day you and Wanda met. You can watch your love unfold all over again but now from a different perspective.

You giddily scrub through the timeline and watch yourself wander around outside, then fast forwarding again until Wanda walks to the door and opens it to you. Your brows pinch together; you don’t seem hurt at all and you’re clearly not unconscious. In fact, you seem wary of her.

Your curiosity heightens as you quietly observe yourself take a seat on her couch and sit there, tapping your lap awkwardly. You skip further ahead and stop when you see Wanda jump onto you. Your hand flies over your mouth, the sickening realisation starting to dawn on you.

She lied to me…

How did I forget everything?

You drag the little dot further through the video, your heart thudding in your ears. A red glow in the darkness of her room causes the frown on your face to deepen and you to scroll back.

You almost forget how to breathe when you see red wisps escape the fingertips of your beloved girlfriend, the red seeping it’s way through the side of your forehead and infecting your unconscious mind.

She does this continuously for minutes, destroying every thought in your head. Your opinions, beliefs and judgments so she can start off with a clean canvas. Everything from your old life comes rushing back, your memories flashing at you like big bright billboards on 2x speed.

Your childhood, your parents divorcing, your bullies in high school and more specifically— the night you met Wanda. Surrounded by tall, thin, white bark trees as the echo of your own voice called after something or someone named Daisy. The disorientation and utter sadness you felt wandering aimlessly. The anxiety you felt in the pit of your stomach while walking up to Wanda’s cabin. Everything that happened that night, including her handing you the drink to then ordering you to put it down.

Clover-

Frankie?

Daisy…

Wanda.

“Y/N! I’m back!” You gasp, quickly blinking away the tears that rimmed your eyes. You slam the computer shut and shove it in its box, clumsily dropping the lid back on and running to put it back into her closet.

You just shut the door when Wanda’s voice startles you from the doorway.

“You okay honey? You look shaken.” You take a step back when she advances, almost like a reflex or a flinch, and it does not go unnoticed by her. She squints ever so slightly, her head tipping to the side.

I don’t know this woman. I need to leave. Now.

“Yeah I’m okay I just.. stubbed my toe.” She tuts, walking over to you and snakes her arms around your waist. “Aww, my poor baby. I bought strawberries though, will that cheer you up?” She whispers into your head and you melt, fingers twitching against the material of her soft coat.

My Wanda..

“T-Thank you, Wands.” This is Wanda. The loving, beautiful and generous Wanda you fell for. But she erased your whole life so she could cage you and keep you for herself.

Don’t get swayed by strawberries! Focus!

She whispers a sweet I love you before kissing your head and turning around. She picks up a thick knitted cardigan laying on the bed and throws it to you. “It’s cold, put this on and I’ll go light a fire.”

She waltzes out of the door and down the short hallway, leaving you a big, confused ball of nerves.

Wanda switches on the TV and invites you to sit next to her. You don’t say anything and accept, seating yourself by her no matter how on edge you feel because Wanda knows you. She can tell when you’re hiding something, and if you don’t want to sit next to her after begging her to stay home, something is obviously wrong.

Wanda watches the movie like she normally would. Laughing here and there, playing with your hair or placing a friendly hand on your thigh. You on the other hand have no idea what’s happening in the movie because your mind is racing with thoughts on what you should be doing.

Do I confront her? Do I run away? Do I stay and act like I don’t know anything?

“Hey Wands?” You say without thinking, immediately regretting your words and curse at yourself for acting so impulsively. She hums, eyes still focused on the tv.

“If I asked you a question… would you answer truthfully?”

“Of course, I always do.” She answers, her voice soft with a hint of worry as she pointed the remote at the television to shut it off. You want to believe her over what your own eyes saw, you wish you had never touched or opened that box. Everything would’ve stayed perfect. But sadly, you have to accept the fact that it was never perfect. You were played and life isn’t the paradise she pretended it was.

“I… I found the laptop.” You unwravel yourself from her hold so you can sit up and face her. Your mind so caught up on the anxiety rumbling around in your stomach, you miss the faint crimson flash behind her irises and the tiny tense of her shoulders.

“What laptop?”

“The one hooked up to the security cameras.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” She chuckled, shifting uncomfortably as she shook her head and avoided your frantic stare. You bite the inside of your cheek, gently taking her hand between yours and softening your tone of voice. The last thing you want to do is make her upset or start an argument.

“Okay, then just answer this… What happened the night we met?”

“I told you, I saved you-“

“No Wanda. What. happened?” You enunciate your last words, voice trembling as you desperately cling onto the hope that she’ll tell you what happened and explain why she lied. This is her chance to admit to everything, but she doesn’t take it.

“I’m telling you the truth, Y/N. Why are you questioning me?” You feel burning tears sit behind your eyes and your lips quivers, your patience worn into a thread as you pinch your temple.

This is the woman you love and trust most in the world, it breaks your heart that the foundation of your relationship was built on lies and manipulation. It breaks your heart even more so knowing that the Wanda you thought you knew could just be a fake persona, anything feels possible right now.

“I told you, I found the laptop and saw the security cameras. I know what actually happened.” She lets out a small laugh, your expression changing to one of disbelief watching her shrug as if what she did isn’t that bad.

“Okay… well it’s not a big deal-“

“You made me forget my entire life! I’m scared, Wanda. You lied to me. I want to know who I am, not who you want me to be!” You lose the composure you were holding on to, standing up and throwing your hands around.

She clenches her jaw when you yell these words at her, her nostrils flaring and her eyes poisoned with an ironclad rage. She slowly stands to her feet and you internally kick yourself—regretting how you spoke to her as she looms over you. Her tightened jaw and her slit pupils reminded you of a snake ready to attack, pointing a finger in your face before she speaks her next words.

“You came to me for help. And I helped you. I treat you like a fucking queen and that’s how you speak to me?” Shes not yelling, her voice is quiet but created purely of anger and disappointment. Honestly, you’d prefer yelling.

“But Wanda.. that’s not fair-“

“Don’t you talk to me about what’s fair. I’ve done everything possible to make sure you’re happy and now you’re scared of me?” Tears well your eyes as you stare at her, the salty drops blurring your vision and rolling down your face every time you blink. That familiar lump gets caught in your throat, forcing whatever you wanted to say right back down. You’ve never seen her so furious, and you never expected to be the reason for her to be.

“I know the life you lived before me. You lived alone with two bunnies, you hate your family, worked as a waitress and had one friend. You know I treat you better than anyone else ever has.” Your eyes dart to the floor, shame swelling inside of you.

Wanda makes me happy, why did I ruin it all?

“But if you’re going to talk to me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you, I guess there’s no point in being nice.” Your eyes fly up at her again, hoping to see some sort of playfulness in her expression. No matter how hard you searched there wasn’t a hint of that gentle gaze she always had for you.

“Get on your knees, Y/N.”

“What-“

“On your fucking. Knees.”

You let out a shaky breath before slowly sinking down to your knees. Your eyes stay stuck to your fidgeting fingers, anxiously waiting for her next orders. “You’re so pretty, it’s a shame you act like such a spoiled little brat.” She unbuttons her jeans and tugs down at the zip, pulling out a large red strap she hid inside of the denim.

“Open.” You hesitate before taking it into your hand, eyes looking up at her nervously before sticking your tongue out and teasing it. You take the tip into your mouth, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks around it, eyes begging for some type of approval. Her mouth opens slightly, quiet pants escaping her as she watches the end of the strap disappear into your mouth repeatedly.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, impatiently pushing her hips forward and forcing the rest of the length into your mouth. “You can’t act all tough with a dick in your mouth, can you?” She sneers. You feel her touch the back of your throat, the faux cock weighing heavy on your tongue as you gagged around it. You claw at her hips and pull at her sweater, but she doesn’t budge.

“Breathe out of your nose, baby.” You do as you’re told, breathing in through your nose while drool dripped down your chin. She picks up your loose hair with her hand and gathers it behind your head, using it as leverage to move your head however she pleases.

“I want you to touch yourself, touch yourself for me please…” She whimpered. Her hips start to move, pumping the toy into your mouth at a merciful pace. Your spit falls from your lips to the carpet underneath you as you slowly remove one of your hands from her to push into your shorts, not wasting a second before thrusting two fingers into yourself.

You moan around the strap while she forces your head back and forth by your hair and snaps her hips harder, breath hitching at the sight of you grinding your hips against your own hand.

She rams into your mouth, hot, breathless praises falling from her lips and raining down onto you. The material of the toy rubs perfectly against her clit, both of you impatiently chasing your highs with increasingly fast and sloppy movements. You feel your walls clench and as you curl your fingers, you notice her thighs start to shake.

“Fuck! Cum with me… let go, sweet girl.”

Her string of moans flow smoothly throughout her silent cabin as she bucked her hips up and further into your mouth. Your juices spill into your hand, your bodies pulsing and sweaty. She squeezes her eyes shut as hot-white pleasure surges through her, and you do the exact same, clenching your thighs together as your eyelids flutter.

She pulls out and you take a deep breath in, your chest heaving and head spinning because of the lack of oxygen. She watches you withdraw your hand from your shorts and your cheeks fade to a hot pink seeing your fingers coated in the sticky cum.

She takes your clean hand and guides you to lay on the couch. You melt into the soft sofa, legs twitching and your eyes shut. You weakly mumble protests when you feel her climb on top of you and immediately starts tugging at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to the side. She moves her hand and massages your pussy, eagerly listening to all of your icky sounds. You squirm and try jerking away from her, but her hand pins your hips back down to the couch, forcing you to endure the intensity of her touch.

“Wands, I’m tired..” She smiles, your voice low and husked from your sore throat.

“Don’t you hear that, baby? You’re so wet for me, even when I’m mean to you.” She shushes your begging while using her hand to move your sticky panties out of the way. She lines herself up to your hole, slowly pushing inside and doesn’t wait before picking up her speed.

“You’re so tight..” You sob, feeling smothered and hot from her hands groping at you, her body like a chunk of burning coal hovering above you. She wipes some of your cum from your fingers with her own, then moving them towards your mouth and sliding them in. She exhales shakily and her hips stutter when you swirl your tongue around her fingertips, opening your eyes the slightest bit so you can catch her reaction.

“God, you’re so good like that…” She slams into you harder, adoring the whines that would muffle because of your stuffed mouth. She feels your walls clench around the strap again and her lips stretch into a smug smirk.

“Aww gotta cum already? You wanna make a mess all over my strap, baby? Yeah?” Her voice hitches higher, patronising you in a way she knew you loved.

She takes it all in. Your tits bouncing underneath your shirt from her thrusts and your hardened nipples peeking through. Your flushed cheeks. The sweat glistening off of your forehead and your inner brows perked upwards. You could only moan an answer to her question, legs writhing and eyes glazed over as you stare at her in your euphoric haze.

Then it hits you, the feeling that you’d describe as tasting a slice of heaven and hell at the same time. Your back arches and your muscles tighten. You gasp and pathetically attempt to kick at her when she starts to toy with your sensitive clit, but cease your actions when she shoves her fingers further into your throat as a silent warning.

The last thing you remember before slowly drifting off into your long awaited slumber, is Wanda’s hands running down your sides, the top of her head and your stomach flexing as she kissed her way down your stomach.

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taglist: @wandasfavv @sokovianbaby @hopelesslygaysstuff @ghxst-guts @maximoffsgirl @mrsmothermaximoff @themilfsland @slutm3out @immclovinmilfs @kimiisims-blog @halsnaksns

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serxinns · 6 months

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Yandere Older class 1a x Deadpool reader

You were a goofy sarcastic playful hero who always made jokes while brutally punching villains in the face while doing wacky and wild stuff saying the most unhinged stuff with a smile on your face and your Fans and Most pro heroes love that about you

Iida was always with you not because you were dead gorgeous and your fighting skills were amazing but because he's worried about you! You pulling these dangerous stunts makes him have a heart attack whenever he peacefully wants to see the news he sees you teasing and taunting a very dangerous and very deadly villian riling them up to the point where they just slash at anything to get you to stop your yapping, next thing you know he's grabbing his hero suit and running over there right now he always scold you for being u safe while you just either laugh it off do those cringey "I'm sowwy🥺" look iida pretends to be cringe out about but deep down he thinks your pouty face and puppy eyes are cute,

Bonus: both you and Iida's fans agree that Iida was the Dad friend and make those complications video of him being one

Bakugo wants you to depend on him and look up to him he always wants you to be by his side whenever you work with him, but you being a little shit makes his job way harder, you always making fun little jokes and uncanny comedic lines while the two of you are literally in a life and death situation while you're just singing nursery rhymes, He always yells at you to be serious and all you did was say "uh oh cranky pants need a sippy cup?" He chased you around that day and seeing that cute little cheeky face of yours made him blush he always acts like he doesn't wanna work with you but in truth, he stalks your schedule and demands his agency to work close to yours but he won't admit that even the fans kinda see that he cares for you and loved you and himself dynamic

Momo is the worried mother if you ever get hurt by a nasty villain she's beating that villain to a pulp heck even making the dude see the clouds, she always is very protective of you like a mother hen making sure you eat, sleep brush your teeth she always tell you to while you whined like a child, if you didn't bring your lunch don't worry she brought a little bento box for you!, whenever your merch comes out or before she's always the 1st one to get it. She even has a room dedicated to it (just like Izuku but we'll get to him) literally she and Izuku would have a battle about who got the rarest merch and expensive merch

Ochako is like your number 1 biggest fan she always knows your schedule as well so she can either watch you from afar and if you needed any help she'll be there to kick their asses!, she's like Pucca (if you know the childhood show congrats) she always watching you dreamily eyes fluttering but strong and dangerous if anyone messes with you, she's is always in her dream world imagining carrying you like a little princess and she's the knight although she's also ok with you holding her like that as well both ways make her blush and giggles and kicking her feet while floating up, she makes fanfiction of you x reader or her under a fake username ofc so she can write down all her fantasies (some of your classmates would follow that page secretly) she keeps an oversized merch t-shirt that you wrote an autograph

While Izuku may be all Might's number one fan who said he can't be yours as well? Like this dude knows it all has 4-6 pages of you, your quirk, your weapons, your personality, your likes and dislikes, your family, your address-, you name it! He doesn't even need to write down your schedule since he remembers it so easily dude has a great memory there's no denying it, whenever his fans scream all over him wondering what's his favorite hero everyone is so surprised when he mutters out you heck he's shy whenever he talks to you your his idol his darling his sweetie standing in front of him happily making jokes and laughing along or badass shooting and slashing any bad guys, as mentioned in mom's headcanon this boy got a WHOLE ROOM dedicated to you heck one time you jokingly put a dick shape drawing when he asked to Have a autograph he bought a photo case for that and put it on display like he's PROUD

Sero and Denki were your go-to when wanting to cause trouble and Crack some jokes heck all even flirt with each other trying to see who gets the most flustered denki craves whatever attention you give him whether trying to annoy him or not he loves it when you eyes are on him he may act like a carefree person who jokes with you but he's a possessive dude he glares at your fangirls from afar when they're squealing all over you trying to get a autograph calling you hot that made his blood boil that he had to intervene by saying there's a villain waving goodbye at the girls while their squealing got louder seeing Denki but Denki glared at them Sero is the calmer one but is Obsessive he loves everything about you whenever your close to him on the outside he as cool as a cat but inside he's dying screaming on the inside just wanting to hold you close he always ask for any sort of physical interaction like high fives, hugs, he even remembered you patting him on the back praising him for wrapping up the villains luckily someone recorded it and now he saves that in his phone watching it repeatedly over and over again also he keeps those spiderman x Deadpool comics

Jirou and Kiri are like Sero but she acts more like a soft tsundere while Kiri acts like a love-sick puppy following you around and worshipping you head to toe. She acts cool and tough around you but if you compliment her she turns red and hits you to shut up just like Izuku she's too shy to speak to you and always lets you do the talking while she doesn't pay attention just hearing your voice makes her trapped in a dazed smiling dreamily she just couldn't help it You were so adorable even under that mask she wants to cup her hands on your cheeks and give you the biggest kisses leaving you a hot flushed mess kiri on the other hand worships you like a God, he always rants to his friend teru about you and even works together with bakugo at times talking to him about you the two of them will rant on about how cool you are (mostly Him and bakugo just listens) he will invite you to spar with him and if he ever accidentally hurts you he feels so bad and apologies to you even tho you didn't even show any anger or sadness but he thinks you do but all you did was laugh saying how strong he was making the number 4 hero blush and crumble right there he always used to complimenting you on your skills body and even your muscles but you complimenting him!? It's like a kid getting a gold star for their behavior! After sparing he always buys you his favorite drink which you teased him about while he looked annoyed with your teasing he actually likes it and when you promise to stop he mentally whines wanting you to do more!

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #platonic yandere #bnha fluff #tw stalking #deadpool x reader #Deadpool reader #Deadpool x mha #i got lazy

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lycheedr3ams · 1 year

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Death's Angel

Part 3: Taming the Beast

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! Mentions of smut, eventual filthy smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

.......

series inspired by the art below!

You were more than lucky that no one caught you going down to konig's quarters last week on the night of the autumn harvest ball. You made sure to keep your interactions with him the following days very brief, if you even saw him at all. this was all for his sake, so that he wouldn't be thrown out of the castle - or worse - on accusations that he seduced the Austrian royal family's princess. not that it wouldn't be the truth, but you were the one who pursued him first, after all.

you found that you could hardly concentrate during your routine literature or violin courses. your eyes would always wander out the window, scouring the fields or training area for the hooded giant. but just like his living quarters, he must train in secret, for he was rarely seen outside of the castle during daylight hours. some nights, you'd spot him from your bedroom window, washing his clothes in the moonlit stream. you wanted to call out to him, but surely others would hear, and it wasn't safe. you wished you could be like Rapunzel, to just let down your hair for him to climb to your room like a storybook prince. but you were no Rapunzel, and he was certainly no prince.

it was too risky for you to sneak down to his quarters now that things had settled down after the ball. you thought endlessly on how to get more time alone with him, to just even speak to him, even if you would be the one doing most of the speaking.

crime in your country actually seemed to almost stop now that konig was the royal family's executioner. everyone was scared of him, and of his axe. to be killed by konig was a death like no other, even though he made it swift and painless. needless to say, castle life was getting a little boring. you had enough of the routine, enough of the shy, virgin-like smiles you sent his way on the rare occasion you saw him. he was the most interesting person you've ever met.

and konig couldn't get it out of his head how you said that fire just needed to be handled properly. he replayed that night over and over again in his mind, pondering your words with every free moment he got. he couldn't admit to himself that he missed you: from your kindness and smile to your plump hips and squeezable breasts. that cloth you gave him didn't make it three days before it was soiled with his essence as he jerked off to unholy thoughts of you. he pretended to not notice the way you would owlishly stare at him from your bedroom window when he was trying to wash his clothing.

but you couldn't think of a way to see him alone again, until tonight. you watched as konig cleaned his clothes under the light of a crescent moon, but he seemed to forget a piece of clothing as he left. no one else would've been able to see the black cloth if they hadn't already known it was there. you jumped up from your daybed by the window and smiled as a plan formed in your head. much like the night of the banquet the week prior, you slipped on a cloak and some loose boots before sneaking out of the castle. it wasn't uncommon for you to take walks at night, even before konig arrived, so that alone wouldn't arouse any suspicion. the silence of the night and the cold glimmer of the moon were often your only companions.

you pretended to follow the streambank lazily, as if you weren't making a bee line for the cloth, as if it wasn't the only reason you came out tonight. the knights each had their area that they guarded every night, and you had long ago memorized each of their paths and schedules. they were no threat to your plan. when you finally approached the black cloth lying on the ground, you sat down and gently pulled it under your dress with your foot. you carefully folded the garment under your cloak and tucked it under your arm before you sat down and admired the stream for a little while, like you usually did. the easy part was over. now, you had to figure out how to get to konig's quarters without being seen.

there was no way you could march right past the knights like you did last time. there were too many servants about, and your sisters often stayed up later than they should've, just like you. you aimlessly wandered the castle grounds as you thought, and remembered that there were secret passages throughout the castle that were only supposed to be used in times of an emergency. surely returning the executioner's forgotten clothing to him was an emergency?

you walked back to your room, to trick the servants and knights into thinking you were going to bed, before you entered one of the secret passages to the basement. it was hidden behind a painting that rested on the floor rather than hung. only you knew about it, somehow. maybe no one else ever bothered to wonder why one painting wasn't hung out of the thousands that already adorned the castle.

you could risk bringing no torch with you, so you braced the cold darkness of the passages and followed them down. in your younger years, you would often hide in these passages from your sisters, or when someone made you upset and you couldn't get away. but you had never been past the main level. but down you went, until you reached the trapdoor exit and were right in the middle of the basement servant's quarters. they all seemed to be asleep, so you quietly climbed onto the floor and descended down konig's staircase. you were slightly more confident this time since you've visited him before, but it was still like knocking on death's door.

you gently knocked and whispered his name. you heard the bed creak, and he opened the door a moment later. he didn't look all that surprised to see you, like he did last time. he wordlessly looked down at you.

right as you were about to hand his discarded garment to him, you realized that he might find it creepy how you knew he left a piece of black clothing, outside, at night, while you were supposed to be asleep. you blushed, and pursed your lips shut. he tilted his hooded head to show he was confused. but he already knew you watched him, so would it really be that weird? you couldn't think of an easy excuse as to why else you would be down here, knocking on his door in the dead of night. so, you timidly handed him his folded garment that he left by the stream.

"you...left this," you said quietly without meeting his eyes. he gently reached and took the garment from your hands. you lowered your head in shame as you realized you had become a stalker. you were about to turn to leave when his voice pierced the air, even though he spoke very quietly.

"can you handle fire?"

you looked up at him with wide eyes, and you must've looked like a spooked animal. you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"i'd like to think that I can," you responded breathlessly.

his silence gave you the idea that he was satisfied with your answer. but his gaze was so heavy that you could barely control your mouth before you blurted,

"i'm sorry i'm not stalking you i just think you're really interesting."

his eyes widened at that, and you blushed as you realized what you had just said. you turned to run up the stairs, needing to get away from his all-knowing gaze, before his strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into his room. he shut the door with his other hand and pushed you somewhat roughly against his hard, wooden door. his body caged you in as he leaned an elbow above your head and curved his back down so that your eyes were level while his other hand hung at his side. giving you an escape if you wanted. but you couldn't will your body to move. you had awoken a beast.

"you should not talk to me," he warned through gritted teeth.

you could barely breathe. "why?"

his eyes went up and down your frame before he gulped and answered.

"bad idea," he rasped.

you were truly a lamb caught within the wolf's jaws. your breath grew labored.

"I don't think so," you whispered.

"i am an executioner. you are a princess," he said, almost angrily.

you looked him in his eyes, and he truly had the look of a predator. his pupils were pinpricks swimming within a sea of grey-blue. "i don't care."

it seemed he tried to restrain himself with some hidden leash, with the way his body trembled as he caged you in. was he aroused? angry? scared? you couldn't tell.

"i will ruin you," he stated.

your body went on autopilot. you smirked.

"i'd like to see you try."

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful

very filthy smut next chapter!!!!!

1K notes · View notes

changbunnies · 10 months

Text

All About You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: age gap, royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), pet names (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.

In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times– that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically.

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check– and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option.

He lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason.

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it.

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you– he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability.

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching the princess' description. And as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do.

He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself.

It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries.

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe.

But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days.

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you– there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere.

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.”

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power.

“Princess–” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp.

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage.

Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are.

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error– one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach.

You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night.

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour.

He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.”

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together.

“There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room.

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised.

He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before?

You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to.

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now.

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.”

Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.”

“Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death.

He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you.

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel– because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it?

You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter– you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl.

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats.

You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on.

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose– he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe.

You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning.

He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want. But you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily.

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him– you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion, no matter what anyone says.

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand.

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs.

It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho thinks he would do if he were you, anyways.

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?”

Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You– what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard; a man who is your fathers age at that. But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest.

“Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation.

“Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now?

And truly, Minho was the ideal man; at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you.

He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance?

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.

You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help.

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil; you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame.

You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly. You'd match one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other.

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.”

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control.

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin.

In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this– to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side.

“You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” He looks you over carefully following your question, grip on the armrests tightening.

Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable?

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.”

“So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated.

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs before Minho rises from his chair. He's is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need– all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin.

He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..”

He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy.

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips.

He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows.

Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck.

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle.

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip.

If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin. He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too.

His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body.

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing.

You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. “Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something.

You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating.

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly.

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your arousal. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect.

You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head.

“Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?”

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims.

“I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers.

It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women– women who knew what they were doing. But really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked– you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you.

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question.

Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet.

Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes.

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation.

“You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. “Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss.

His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin.

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling.

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all. “M-Minho, I’m– 'm gonna–” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence.

He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.”

All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips.

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face and gushing around his fingers.

He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes.

You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers.

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head. You’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down.

He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit. “Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly.

“Feels good, I just– I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel about him even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess–” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious.

“Minho, I–” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop.

You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please–” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble.

But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you– not that you mind in the slightest. You’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you.

He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release.

He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust. A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours.

Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him. His arms wrap around you snuggly, and keep you upright against his chest. You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek.

He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow.

“Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks.

In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably?

He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be. You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least.

“Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it.

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same.

He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided– so if you make your future husband, your father, or even the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

#skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #not me posting a fic again literally 4 days after my last one i am serious when i say i was possessed to write this #also not posting between the hours of 4-7am for once that is a win for me !!#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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cordeliawhohung · 1 year

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Master List

navigation | mafia!141 | pornstar!gaz | pet!au

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Series:

Soft Spot: he sees the marks

In Limbo: (mafia!ghost x f!reader) is it wrong to fall in love while waiting to die?

Of Sea Foam and Iron: (Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap)

oneshots:

ghoap x reader: johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone.

Thoroughfare: Undone fibers and tissue — you are Simon’s magnum opus. The greatest mess he’s ever created.

headcanons/drabbles:

Family Dinner

In Another Universe

Riding His Thigh

Keeping Quiet

Keeping Quiet 2

Mirrors

Mirrors Part 2

dad!Simon

dad!Simon Part 2

dad!Simon Part 3

Sleeping Problems

dom/sub dynamics

other sleeping problems

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Series:

Liquid Smooth: bodyguard!Gaz x fem!model!Reader

oneshots:

Only in Dreams: (my entry for gazfest!) your best friend gets wounded on the field, and it’s all your fault.

Laundry Day: cowboy!Gaz x fem!Reader: You and your husband live a quiet life on the outskirts of town, that is until a misunderstanding ruins your calm day of doing laundry. At least your husband is there to help pick up the slack.

Dark!Gaz/Soap x Reader: Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar and decide you're better off with them.

headcannons/drabbles:

threesome with soap and gaz

Captain John Price

Series:

the prowl: single! dad! Price x teacher! stripper! Reader

oneshots:

As You Wish: knight!price x princess!reader

Strangers: fucked up soulmate!au

headcannons/drabbles:

Family Dinner

dom/sub dynamics

John "Soap" Mactavish

series:

Of Sea Foam and Iron: (Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap)

oneshots:

Golden Days: A quiet coffee shop is the perfect place for Johnny to relax and get his mind off things. But he finds he enjoys it a bit more when someone starts playing the old, beat up piano.

Dark!Gaz/Soap x Reader: Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar and decide you're better off with them.

ghoap x reader: johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone.

headcannons/drabbles:

Stamina

threesome with soap and gaz

biting

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kiyasaling · 2 months

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Kinks and sex HCs for the LADS lads ( sylus, rafayel, Xavier) r18 minors dni

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

- Any role-play with power dynamics. Maid/master, dragon/knight or princess, student/teacher

- Nippleplay. He’s always so sensitive when you touch his chest. He likes just just your fingers but he also likes clamps and stuff too.

- Pain play, of course. How much you want and who is receiving depends on the day.

- He’s a switch so he’s totally cool with pegging but he really has to be in the mood for it, and sometimes you have to work hard to get him to yield.

- Expensive lingerie. Not anything cheap- it has to be custom-made like most things he likes, whether it’s you or he himself who is wearing it.

- Bondage (a given) Can range from flimsy handcuffs to more intense and complicated ropes and chains, etc.

- Leaving Marks. He doesn’t care so much about making them show or not, but he really likes actually leaving them on you.

- Praise kink. Surprisingly likes being praised. Doesn’t realize it at first, and then doesn’t want to admit it, but you figure it out.

- Voice kink; specifically he likes hearing you get off to his voice when you do phone sex

- Light pet play: loves the nicknames and little outfits

Rafayel 🐡

- praise kink but is super embarrassed about it lol

- Using paintbrushes as stimulation- but you turn the tables and do it to him and he loves feeling the brush all over his body

- Dildos… interestingly shaped and colored ones, too. He probably has a mer-dick tho. It takes a looooot of persuasion but eventually he lets you top him and peg him, then at least fingering becomes a part of you usual routine to get him all embarrassed and pent up

- Light bondage; he lets you take charge but he can only handle so much before getting too embarrassed and not into it anymore

- Scent kink; nice perfumey smells, especially if he buys it for you. Likes sharing clothes with you so he can catch your scent.

Xavier 💫

- somnophilia (ofc) he has given you full consent to wake him up with touches and BJs, and he does the same for you if he ever wakes before you do, or in the middle of the night.

- Lingerie, dressed up in general: he likes seeing you all dressed up and pretty- but specifically if it’s for him. If you’re dressed for a work party he feels different than when you dress for a date with him

- Not so much a kink but needs vocal confirmation that you’re enjoying things; either saying it with sweet words or your moans

- Likes unprotected sex

- Sensitive neck so he loves when you feel him up and he tries not to touch you

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and Deepspace rafayel #love and Deepspace Xavier #lnds #lads #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #lnds sylus #headcanon

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 7 months

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If The Princess changes based on our perception of her, then the Voices are the Princess's perception of The Hero.

If we enter the basement without the Knife and try to escape with the Princess to get to the Damsel, Clearly we are her Knight in Glistening Feathers, and in stories like that, The Hero is Smitten with The Damsel.

With the adversary, we refuse to die. We are Stubborn.

If we get killed by the Princess with ease, we are Broken in her eyes.

We get Hunted by the Den, oppose the Narrator and become Contrarian, see The Princess leave the basement despite locking her down there and we become Paranoid.

The reason that They're Voices instead of other Heroes, is because The Long Quiet doesn't change - Shifting Mound is change, and thus her vessels must be as fluid and malleable as herself.

TLQ, as Shifty states, only ever reacts - We only make a choice based on what The Narrator or The Voices tell us to do. It is only by experiencing that we gain insight, and thus can react. The Voices are as much a part of TLQ as the Princesses are Shifty, but in the way that these two beings have to parallel each other.

But of course, these two being are in that way forever connected - The Long Quiet Has Changed, and been changed, as he has had to make decisions - cause change, despite it's nature as a being of stagnation and changelessness.

The Shifting Mound is forever a Shifting Mound, she is never complete, always changing in a way that does not allow settling, or stagnation - yet in that way is static in her purpose!

TLQ and Shifty are one in the same despite being split - they both change, and are stuck, and yet they continue this push and pull ad aeternum, because they are stuck and dynamic all at once.

At least, depending on which ending you choose.

(And then there's the Razor, who I don't have a good answer for other than "We don't see every run with her to get every voice" So. That's the one kink in this idea.)

#Maybe I'm stating the obvious #but i need to get this out of my head.#slay the princess #the long quiet #the shifting mound #shifting mound #stp #the princess stp #the voices stp

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phntmeii · 1 year

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♡ Dating Aegon II Targaryen Headcanons:

❝ But… If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied…❝

[SFW+NSFW + AFAB!Reader]

General Warnings: sad!Aegon, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of neglect

NSFW Section Warnings: pervert!Aegon, AFAB Terms, Somnophilia, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Sensory Deprivation

A/N: Still upset about his characterization in the show :/ Poor TGC was trying so hard to save this character. Appreciate that he gave us pathetic wet dog vibe for Aegon at the least

SFW Headcanons:

☀️ Aegon has desperate issues regarding love especially the idea of someone loving him. He’s been completely neglected by his father, only valued by his mother as a “rightful” king and struggles with alcoholism as a result.

☀️ Having you see him not as a ruler, not as a prince, not as a chess piece in a political game, but as a person has his mind confused.

☀️ It takes a bit of time for him to entertain the idea of you valuing him as true but once he does, he’s latched onto you like his life depends on it.

☀️ And I mean literally latched on. He is unashamed at how clingy he is to you. Arms always wrapped around you in the hall and keeping his eyes to yours.

☀️ Aegon is only willing to listen to you without complaining too much. Maybe a whine or two but he’s totally whipped so he’s on his way to do as you ask.

☀️ He’d LOVE for you to meet Sunfyre. If you are unaccustomed to dragons, he makes sure to slowly introduce you because he wants you to love his dragon as much as he does.

☀️ Always dreams about running away with you. He’ll be cuddling with you and ask about it. Even if it was impossible, he’d like to dream about going off somewhere in Essos, away from the throne.

☀️ “Love, simply listen to me… Imagine it. We could run off on the first ship out of this blasted kingdom. It could be just us…”

☀️ Alicent would simultaneously love and hate you. She enjoys the company of women and finally, someone has found a way to handle Aegon. But, she’d also be weary of this on account of her father because Aegon being infatuated with you means he’s more willing to listen to you than his council.

☀️ Rather than ditch his duties to attempt escapes, to drink or to whore, he’s sneaking off to see you if it’s been too long. He insists you stay by him during meetings or other duties to keep him from “going mad”.

☀️ Aegon can get very jealous when he sees you with other men because he knows what they’re thinking when they look at you. But you are his. No one else’s.

☀️ And considering he’s the firstborn and a prince, he has absolutely no problem getting petty because there would be no serious consequences. (Bonus tag team with Aemond.)

☀️ Aegon’s main Love Languages to give are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

☀️ Aegon is obsessed with your body completely. He wants to do everything to have you in his arms.

☀️ He is unashamed with PDA. He’s kissing you almost every couple of minutes. He’s walking down the halls all smiles because he’s holding your hand.

☀️ Aegon’s need for you is constant and his mood quickly sours if he’s pulled away from duty rather than being able to spend his time with you.

☀️ He’d whisk you away onto Sunfyre for a joyride just so he can be away from everyone but you. Consider it a romantic gesture because in his mind it is.

☀️ He thinks it’s like when the knight saves the princess in the stories.

☀️ Lingers in the mornings just so he can have you by him for longer. The sun is hurting his eyes this early in the morning so what better than to bury his head in your chest and softly ask you to stay as he caresses your perfect body.

☀️ Aegon’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

☀️ Aegon wants to feel special. To feel taken care of. To feel loved. So anytime you go out of your way to assist him, his eyes are sparkling as he looks at you.

☀️ You tidied the bedchamber? Have prepared his clothing? You’ve had his sword cleaned and polished? You’re practically begging for this man to be completely and utterly obsessed and he’s littering you in kisses in appreciation.

☀️ And, of course, he wants praise. No one has validated him and simply valued him as a person so he yearns for your words.

☀️ Something as simple as “I’m proud of you” has him close to shedding tears because no one tells him that.

☀️ He wants to hear you say “I love you” as much as possible so he’ll say it all the time just to hear you say it back.

NSFW Headcanons:

☀️ At first, he has to be dominant and take control. He’s been cut out of having control in all other aspects of his life that he needs some semblance of power.

☀️ You can trust that he knows what he’s doing. Although some of his fucking has been done while drunk, he’s done it and experimented enough to know what gets him off and what gets you off.

☀️ Only after some time will he trust to submit himself in bed. It’s scary to him. To lose control in another aspect of his life. But he trusts you and he loves you.

☀️ And surprisingly, being so slow, gentle and loving to him, it felt amazing. Having you ride him, hands interlocked and meeting each other’s eyes.

☀️ His favorite part of you are your tits. Seeing them bounce as you ride him, needing to touch and feel them.

☀️ He whimpers and cries when he’s getting close, begging you not to stop. He’s clearly needy just by the way he’s grabbing onto any part of you that you let him.

☀️ When he’s more comfortable with being submissive, he’s whiny in his needs. Tugging at your gown anytime you two are alone, insisting he needs to at least have a look.

☀️ “Please, my love… Please! Just one look! Gods, you have no idea how much I crave you.”

☀️ Aegon’s hand would try to slip under your gown under the table at dinner, insist that only he needs to assist you in bathing which is definitely just an excuse to fuck, and just straight up jack off when you two are alone in your bedchamber, pleading for you to touch him.

☀️ Aegon could definitely cum with the punishment of only being able to hump at your leg. The humiliation of being so desperate gets him off like nothing else.

☀️ He can be bratty sometimes but it’s all purposeful. He wants you to punish him because you both know it leads to being tangled around each other in bed.

☀️ Oh, and Aegon is absolutely unashamed about being loud. The louder the better in his opinion. He wants everyone and anyone to know how fucking good you two fuck and for how long.

☀️ He’d leave whatever chamber you two were in with a smug grin, knowing that no one could match the passion you two share.

☀️ Aegon has average stamina and lasts as long as you edge him for. He could go 2-3 a times a day and still ask for more even when he’s a shaking mess.

☀️ Sit on this man’s face. Period. No questions asked. If he can breathe, he isn’t satisfied. Suffocate him entirely, clamp onto his head with your thighs and watch him eat you out like a starved madman.

☀️ Aegon is a whore for praise and he makes it known when he’s giving you head. He gets so easily pussy drunk it’s insane. His eyes are locked onto you, only parting from your swollen, abused cunt to hear how well he’s doing.

☀️ “My love… Please tell me how well I’m doing… I’m being good, am I not?”

☀️ One of his favorite things would be longer sessions where he’s blindfolded and completely up to your control. Have fun with waxplay and sensory deprivation and watch his cock twitch and leak precum at each touch.

☀️ Sometimes you’d wake up to him already rubbing his cock against your cunt, feeling the wetness already coating him. His forehead pressed to your back as he softly moaned. It’s so easy for him to get turned on when you’re so close to him.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#asoiaf #asoiaf headcanons #asoiaf x reader #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd headcanons #hotd imagine #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x reader #hotd x you #aegon ii headcanons

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jaybear1701 · 2 years

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The thing I love most about Willow is that it’s a fun, light-hearted show that’s an homage to the original movie and others 80s fantasy films like the Princess Bride and Labyrinth -- but also subverts well-worn tropes and celebrates diversity to create something unique in a mainstream series. Like:

The quest launches to save a prince, not a princess.

Elora, initially in love with kidnapped Prince Airk, meets Graydon, another prince who is a POC and, based on what we’ve seen, everything Airk is not. I don’t really het ship, but the show seems to be leaning toward a Graylora “end game” and, if so, I’d love that for them.

The representation in this show is fantastic. Heroic roles traditionally reserved for men -- most typically white men -- are played by an actor with dwarfism, a British-Indian actor, an American-Guatemalan actor, and two mixed-race women. Not a stretch to say this is why some out there (we all know who) decry the show as “too woke.” But to me it’s one of the show’s many strengths.

We’ve had many a narrative about a “chosen one.” But how often is the chosen one: 1) a woman and 2) whose “protector” is another woman, let alone a gay one. Amazing.

On that note, how refreshing is it to see such a layered relationship between Elora and Kit. There’s the push and pull of destiny and duty, and resentment and jealousy from family dynamics. But in the end it evolves into grudging respect and sisterhood. It’s the kind of dynamic normally reserved for two men in these types of genre shows.

And Jade. My precious Jade. A woman knight of color protecting her princess is everything I’ve ever wanted in life. Tanthamore is Lancelot and Guinevere level romance -- but with lesbians. Come on. I cannot say enough about them.

I’m sure there are more examples, but this is just off the top of my head.

#willow #tanthamore #elora danan #kit tanthalos #jade claymore #thraxus boorman #graydon hastur

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moodymisty · 2 months

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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 soon

Author's Note: Hi... I finally finish this part. The last two are actually fairly close to being done, I was just really held up on this one. It's not my favorite, but I just had to get it done.

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships: Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 1376

Ever since the moment you met him, Lev has been your shadow whenever Ralkan isn’t around.

Every time, not long after you leave your quarters, he seems to find you.

Whereas the Salamanders have rigid training regimens they must abide by every single day- though day is a bit of a loose term in the depths of space - it seems the Night Lords are largely left up to their own devices as you travel to their destination.

You suppose it makes sense, daily training wouldn’t do much for them other than entertainment; These Night Lords are clearly the best of the their genestock, brought aboard to show the Salamanders who they were working with.

Ralkan had been extremely displeased with you when you’d called this all a pissing contest. The much younger Salamander in your company at the time had snickered at your joke before getting quickly reprimanded and sulked his way back to the firing range.

But as much as he denied your comment and attempted to dissuade any ill will between the two legions as merely the occasion disagreement, you've heard from around the ship that attempts to keep things amicable however have largely failed. You’ve heard rumors of the Night Lords getting into fights with Salamanders, barking and goading confrontation like rowdy, feral street dogs.

Ever since Lev had an altercation with a Salamander- you don't even know if he was the first one to do so- it seems to have only gotten worse. And you still have at least another two weeks in travel before you reach your destination, with everyone trapped in here like fish in a barrel.

At least the Salamanders have weapons, the baseline humans aboard the ship have been forced to shuffle around and avoid eyesight of any Night Lords, and pray they don't stick out of the crowd.

Your conversations with the others aboard the ship might be brief, but you know that some have gone missing. As if the implications let out by Lev's cohorts at the time of your first meeting hadn't already queued you in on it.

Sitting at your desk in the midst of some monotonous work you glance to your left, leaning over to open a drawer and reveal the contents.

The centerpiece of them all is a Night Lord combat knife. The metal shines, but far less that you would expect it to. It's like it eats the very light that touches it. You kept it hidden, Emperor forbid Ralkan found it, but...

You didn't want to throw it away either.

You could hear the sound of the pipes thrumming as you looked up at Lev, and he looks down on you. A serf passed by behind him at a quick pace; Even quicker when Lev turned just slightly at the neck to watch them and make sure they moved along.

He'd found a moment in-between moments- the few seconds where Ralkan wasn't watching - to find you. Perhaps that should unsettle you. But he's given you the first real conversations you've had in awhile besides Ralkan, and you couldn't help but pause.

Ralkan is a safe embrace, Lev is a precarious drop; But you keep looking over the edge.

"You look tired," He said, looking down at you with lazy eyes. He always looks somewhat sleepy and unimpressed himself.

"I was going back to my quarters to sleep, until you stopped me." He grew a smirk that showed sharp, near overgrown canine teeth.

"Maybe you should tell that Salamander of yours to back off then."

You crossed your arms across your chest like a self-assuring hug and focused on the bat wings stretched across the chestplate of his armor.

"Do you know he always has eyes on you? Even when he isn't around? Even his brothers are watching you."

You assumed he's been having trouble getting a moment where it's just you; Many have, not just him. Ralkan has watched you so intently since Lev started sinking his talons into you, and despite finding comfort in him keeping the Night Lord with unknown intentions at bay, you also find yourself tugging away for just an inch of space.

Unfortunately, that space leads right into Lev.

"...His name is Ralkan."

You swallow a knot in your throat. As much as you knew you could talk to Ralkan, push back against some things he said, you had no idea where Lev's limits are; What words might make him decide you're more fun as toy he can break than one he's gentle with.

"Here."

Lev reached to his belt and pulled a knife from it, tossing it in the air gently to grab it by the blade tip and push it out towards you. You didn't touch it, leaning away and staring at it like it's diseased. It might as well be; You don't know what unsaid intentions you'd be accepting if you took it from him.

"I saw your Salamander gave you something," You assumed he was talking about a small trinket Ralkan had made at the forge for you, one of a few. The necklace that dangles around you neck at all times now was also from him.

A practice with things more delicate, he had said.

"Here's something of my own. Don't lose it."

You hadn't lost it, but it had taken some hiding to keep it out of Ralkan's sight. You knew that if he saw it, the rough and disgusting gift- much unlike Ralkan's delicate one - would be gone in an instant.

Perhaps you shouldn't care, it's from an astartes you barely know, but something about it just makes you want to keep it.

Your entire vision as been Ralkan over these past few months. Especially these recent weeks since Lev arrived. The sight of something, someone else is almost enthralling- no matter how dangerous. You've caught yourself looking at the knife multiple times now, remembering the way Lev's armoured fingers wrapped around sharp edge of the blade as he gave it to you, even once having to slam the drawer shut quickly just before Ralkan entered your room to take you somewhere.

He hasn't caught wind of the knife itself yet, but you have a feeling he knows you're hiding something. He's given you openings to say, but you've declined them all. You assume he knows Lev is somehow finding you and is hoping you'll tell him how, what rat holes he's using to get to you, and it frustrates him that you won't.

He probably thinks the astartes is threatening you to not tell him. Rather than that you don't want to.

You close the drawer, hearing the contents jingle around while sighing.

You'd curse even coming aboard the Flamewrought, but you can't deny the advantages of being here. Your work, the people you've met, though most of those people are gone; Ralkan is almost all that remains. You speak to some of his men at times, but the interaction is always brief and controlled.

“Where’s your Salamander now, little one?”

You suddenly burst up from your chair, it sliding with a hideous squeal as you hit it with the back of your knees and nearly stumble over. Lev meanwhile stands in the doorway, watching before stepping inward. You take a step backward as his right hand reaches out to slam the door controls and shut it behind him.

“He left you all alone in here?”

You hold your hands close to your chest as if trying to protect yourself, watching him stare at you with black eyes.

“These are my quarters, he doesn’t stay here.”

Lev scoffs and rolls his eyes. He steps closer, ignoring the way you step back to try and maintain the distance. Seeing him in the halls is one thing; There's a chance a Salamander could see you in distress and help you, or you could scream and try to run, but here you're far out of the way of everyone else by design, and with nowhere to even try fleeing to.

"I'm sure he would choose otherwise, had he the chance. He keeps a very close eye on you, you know. He'd be quite disappointed you left the door unlocked." You do know, quite well in fact, and reiterate as such.

"I'm... Well aware of how through his guardianship is."

He must find either you or the situation funny, and laughs.

"What then, does his Salamander duty and rigor prevent him from going any further? Or do you have someone else already, and he's forced to keep his hands to himself?" He laughs again, but it comes out like an indignant snort.

"A pity, I'm sure it makes him furious having to spend so much time protecting a little thing like you and not even get to enjoy it."

It's cold in this room, always is- the entire ship is chilled, recirculated air - and it makes you able to feel the noticeable heat radiating from his body and his armor as he approaches you.

He smiles, leaning in closer. You know you're out of space when your shoulderblades finally knock against the wall.

Closer again. You can feel his breath on your face, how his long hair tickles your skin. Even closer and his stubble rubs against your skin, burning it.

His lips press against yours and you whimper into his mouth, a noise that makes him moan. Your fear spurs him on and he presses his lips to yours harder, feeling when your hands grab the seams of his armour and either try to helplessly push him away, or at least hold on until he's finished with you. The scar across his upper lip scrapes against yours much like his stubble does- everything about him is rough and jagged. Only when your whimpers get louder and start turning into muffled cries does he finally pull away, his teeth raking over your bottom lip before he pulls them away with a soft ‘pop’.

His smile his bright, like he just found a brand new toy.

“You are soft,”

He says, twisting his brother’s words from weeks earlier. He has this look in his eyes, bright with curiosity, like he’s enthralled by something so simple. You can feel your heart slamming against your chest as you stand in his shadow, tears wanting to prick at the corners of your eyes. You know you have something he wants, but while he's being gentle, the vast unknown behind his eyes his terrifying. But is that unknown better that suffocating?

Lev seems to think it is, one his his gauntlets gripping your clothing as gentle as the armour allows him.

"I can take you, I'll get you away from him and I can keep you safe, all to mys-"

"Get away from her."

Lev pulls back, turning to see Ralkan standing in the opening doorway. His hand rests on the handle of his chainsword ready to pull the trigger and rev it to life, and the look he's giving the Night Lord is nothing short of hellfire.

"It is one thing to be on our ship, but I thought I was quite firm in my orders to keep your disgusting hands off of her, and keep your distance."

The smile Lev had quickly fades into an unimpressed and angry sort of look, wrinkling his nose. He doesn't move away from you, instead just turning.

"You don't get to order me around. I'm no brother of yours."

That struck a nerve of Ralkan's, you can instantly tell. His shoulders squared and his hand flexes around the handle of his chainsword, just tight enough that you hear the engine start to kick on and the chain's teeth rattle as it threatens to spin to life.

“I am from Nocturne. I am well versed in slaying dragons, a rat like you should be nothing at all.”

Lev rolls his eyes, unimpressed by Ralkan's formality. He finally turns from trapping you against the wall to give the Salamander his full attention, allowing you to scurry off to the side.

But while Lev seems casual his hand rests close to his own blade, and despite the smirk on his face and casual lean he is just as prepared to fight as Ralkan is.

“Even if you do kill me Salamander, it doesn’t change that you’re just hoarding her all to yourself.”

The two and their energies make this room feel microscopic in size, as Ralkan shifts and evens his footing. Lev straightens up slightly, putting his hands closer to the weapons hanging from his hip.

You stand back trapped in here with them, with no chance of racing by without either one grabbing you for themselves.

You can only step back, and hope that it doesn’t escalate any further than this.

#warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #salamander x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting #Yandere!Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere!NightLord

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thee-horny-thicky · 9 months

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Loved the last ask you answerd, so I wanted to request "Upper moons (plus rengoku) With they're dynamic, like what type ofsub anddom dynamic do they follow, Service top, harsh dom, strict dom, soft dom, bratty sub,pillow princess sub ect

The Upper Moons’ *Plus Rengoku* Dom/Sub Dynamic

Just to be safe, I'll put a trigger warning here, as some of the scenarios for these headcanons have dubious consent.

Let’s get the outlier out of the way, Rengoku. He screams white knight dom. Loyalty is a value everyone in his life must have, and he will position himself as your protector, even if you can defend yourself. He’s the epitome of the knight in shining armor, ready to rush into battle and defend any damsel in distress. He will always act when something is wrong, even if it means putting himself in harm’s way.

He isn't the type of dom who will have a lot of sex. He prefers quality over quantity, and the most intimate experience is his favorite. However, if you're feeling particularly needy, he'll make an exception to satisfy your needs. He can’t have his princess be unhappy, after all.

Though he’s capable of meeting you halfway, Rengoku also values control, perhaps to a toxic degree. He likes taking charge and making decisions, even if he hides it well. This combined with his worry about your well-being can make him possessive and annoyingly domineering. He will want to be involved in every aspect of your life, even if he doesn’t need to know. The best you can hope for is a compromise that'd put his mind at ease, without your wish being denied.

Do you want to do some shopping while he's out? Fine, but you're taking some Kakushi with you, and he's personally picking which ones.

However, his hardheadedness can lead to some friction. And when you aren't feeling so civil, an argument can be sparked. In that case, you're in trouble. No matter how valid your case is, expect a punishment.

Rengoku's punishments range from denying your requests to taking away privileges. He's a master of discipline and has many ways to make sure you'll learn your lessons. The princess treatment you've become accustomed to will cease, because how else would you ever learn? You can expect a spanking, withholding sex, or a night of chores, among other things. So be on your best behavior, or he'll make sure you regret it!

But despite his overbearingness, Rengoku is aware of your needs and desires and will make it his mission to fulfill them. He may be frustratingly stubborn, but you will be treated like royalty, never wanting anything, and always being protected.

Moving onto the Upper Moons.

Gyutaro just screams brat tamer. The years of abuse he’s endured resulted in him developing an inferiority complex, one that plagues him even into demonhood. Except as a demon, he could take what he wanted, and (almost) no human could stop him.

When it comes to women, he lives for bringing a bitch down a few pegs.

When you, a little haughty whore, started working at the brothel and dared to disrespect his sister, he jumped at the opportunity to teach you a lesson. He’ll shut your bratty mouth up with his dick, forcing his length down your throat until your nose is buried in his pubes. Only when he shoots his load will he let you go. But that doesn’t mean he’s done with you. No, you’ll be his plaything until he’s done something about that snotty attitude. He’ll take his time breaking you, and once he’s accomplished his goal, he’ll own you.

If he chooses to dispose of you, he’ll hunt for his next brat to tame. But if he chooses to keep you, the relationship will transfer into more of a master/slave dynamic. Your body, your will, everything about you would be his, and that’s how he likes it. He wants you to be dependent, for him to be the only thing you can rely on.

Soon, the sound of your teary begs become Gyutaro’s favorite sound, and he’ll go to great lengths to hear it.

He enjoys inflicting pain, though hurting you is a means to earn your submission when you get out of line, not his end goal. However, he can’t get enough of watching your face contort in the middle of his fun, be it a punishment, or forcing orgasms out of you. He will push you past your limits until you’re a whimpering, squirming mess. You won't be given relief until he decides you've earned it. Only when you’ve shown that you’re a good girl who learned her place will he let you come.

Once he's satisfied, the aftercare begins, and you will have everything you need. If you’ve been good, he’ll pepper your body with kisses as he tends to your wounds, showering you with praise. If you’ve been bad, you’ll be lucky to have him toss you a clean rag.

From time to time, he’ll also engage in primal play, particularly when he needs to work off some extra stress caused by Daki or Muzan.

Speaking of primal play…

Maybe it’s due to his inhumane appearance, but I immediately thought Primal Dom for Gyokko. Put bluntly, hunting gets him hard, especially when a pretty thing is his target. He loves the power rush it gives him, hunting you through the wilderness as he uses his powers to chase you. He knows you have no chance of getting away, and your panic makes the whole thing more delicious to him.

Once he catches you, he'll throw you down and truly begin his fun. He'll take his time devouring you, making a meal of your body. You're just a pretty little piece of meat to him, and he will savor every moment.

As his plaything, you’re subject to his whims. You won't come until he allows you to, and the pleasure he provides will always be just out of reach until you submit. You'll be forced to the edge and held there, unable to tip over until he decides. He will tease, prod, and test you, then use his big hands to fill your holes. At the same time, he’s marking your flesh, making sure everyone knows you’re his.

Hantengu: As I did last time, Hantengu’s main form, Zohakuten, and Urami will not be included. Instead, we’ll focus on his hot and grown manifested emotions.

To the surprise of no one, Sekido is a sadist. He wants to see you break down in tears and cry out in pain, whilst begging him for pleasure. As he ‘plays’ with your poor body, he’ll deny your orgasms until you beg, (noticing a theme here?), then force you to earn it by whatever means necessary. If you’re bad, though, expect to be violently punished. Don't expect him to coddle you and whisper sweet nothing into your ears when it’s all said and done. At best, you'll get a kiss as he cleans you.

Based on the name alone, you’d think that the manifestation of Hantengu’s pleasure is a pleasure dom. But Karaku isn’t a straight top or bottom. Nope, he’s a switch! Sex is a game to him, one that’s about getting as much pleasure as possible. Thus, he’d switch it up depending on the mood he’s in. If he wants to watch you scream in pain, he'll be a harsh dom, and if he wants to hear your pretty moans, he'll be a soft dom. And if he just wants to feel good, he’ll become a power-bottom. If you want complete submission, you’ll have to take it by force, which he’ll also enjoy. And a little warning, if he's in the mood for a good fuck, expect him to drag you into bed, no matter where you are.

Our darling Aizetsu is the only true submissive of the line-up, as he’s a total bottom. His outlook on life is tinted by his sadness, and he views every negatively. Sex is no different, at least until you show him otherwise. When he discovers that intimacy is the key to bringing him joy, he’ll quickly become addicted to the act. He isn’t too fond of being the dominant party, but he'll make an exception if you ask nicely. But if it’s up to him, he’ll stick to subbing. He loves to be showered with praise and to have someone dedicated to pleasing him. A service top is a good fit for him, one that’s skilled in brat-taming. Because when he gets comfortable, Aizetsu can be a brat. Expect him to be demanding, and when denied, a sobbing temper tantrum may be possible. When that happens, a punishment is in order. Once he’s put back into his place, he’ll go back to being a good, needy boy.

Now, Urogi is the pleasure dom of the group. Similarly to Karaku, he views sex as a game to enjoy. But unlike his brother(?), it’s a game he must always be in control of. You'll only orgasm when he deems it appropriate, and he’ll force out as many as he wants. He'll push you past your limits for his amusement, using you like a toy as he takes whatever he wants. And after all that fun, you'll receive your reward; the aftercare of a lifetime.

As a demon, it’s in Akaza’s nature to be in control. However, just because he’s topping, (and a demon), doesn’t mean that he’ll be cruel. Quite the opposite, as he’ll never do anything to hurt you. At least without you asking first. The reason Akaza enjoys topping is because that’s how he can best give his lover what they need. His pleasure comes from yours, so even if he shies away from something at first, he’ll do whatever it takes to make you come hard.

He likes to know exactly how to please his partner, and the best way to do that is by learning what you like. He’ll set aside time to discover your sensitive spots and kinks, only deeming his mission a success when you’ve had a few orgasms.

Once he knows what his lover needs, Akaza will use that knowledge to bring you bliss. He will worship your body, kissing and caressing you as his hands, tongue, and dick work their magic. The entire time, expect him to smother you with praise, whispering sweet nothings as he tells you how good you are for him.

Akaza will take his time cleaning and massaging you. He can be a bit intense during aftercare, smothering you with affection and being 110% sure you’re okay before allowing you some space.

As a lover of women, he will engage in femdom, where he’ll switch from a service top to a service bottom. He’ll allow you to do whatever you please with him, because he only wants to please you. So basically, a dom-leaning switch.

Speaking of switches….

The. Biggest. Switch! When you first entered a relationship with him, he’d be the dominant one most of the time, especially if you were human. No matter how sweet your cunt is, as a demon, he’s above you.

To no one’s surprise, when he’s in control, he’s a total sadist. He’ll spank, slap, choke, whip, claw, bite, etc., anything to inflict pain on you. He loves seeing you all bruised and bloodied, your eyes puffy and red from crying, your bottom lip trembling as you plead for mercy. It gets him painfully hard, driving him to get harsher and harsher during sex. And just as you’re on the verge of breaking, he’ll stop and start to coddle you, cooing sweet nothings and wiping your tears away as he cares for your wounds. You’re his favorite pet, after all, so he can’t destroy you completely.

However, if you resist his affection, prepare to be punished for your insolence.

Only when you become a demon will be start to give up some control, but you’ll have to take it by force. It’d excite Douma more than he’d want to admit when you break from your restraints and slam him down, your hands around his throat as you start to fuck him as roughly as he fucks you. Rather this means riding him or taking his ass, that’s for you to decide. He'd play a little game where he bottoms, acting like he doesn’t like it and that he’s above subbing, even though that’s when he cums the hardest. He’s a total brat, and he’d push you to the limit until you snap and fix that awful attitude of his.

When Muzan assigns him a pretty young thing to train, his cock will start to awaken. The thought of molding you excites Kokushibo, and his mind will quickly venture to the gutter. Just thinking about teaching you how to fuck nearly makes him feral, making him lose his signature stoicism.

Every day, he will work you to the bone, and when night comes, you will be rewarded for a job well done. He will worship your body, lavishing every inch with kisses, caresses, and bites. His mouth will explore your sensitive spots, his tongue eagerly diving into your warm, tight hole. His fingers will rub and stretch your entrance, making sure that you are well prepared to take him. Then, he will pound into your pussy, fucking you into the mattress. His pace will be relentless, and he will not stop until you have milked him dry.

When the deed is done, he will tend to your needs, making sure that your wounds are taken care of and that you are relaxed and content.

Don’t think he’s soft, though. He will make sure you know your place, and if you try to act out, he will punish you accordingly. He will not hesitate to spank you, choke you, whip you, whatever is necessary to correct your bad behavior. You will be put back in your place, and he will make sure that you know how to behave properly in the future.

His expectations will be high and rules numerous. He will not go easy on you, as he has no room for error. He’ll mold you into a slave to his whims, making sure you’ll bend to his every command. If you fail, don't expect to get off lightly. He won't stop until you're sobbing, with the lesson he’s seeking to teach drilled into your head.

This should go without saying. Muzan is a demon who craves control and expects respect. His sex life is no different, and when in relationships, there’s a 24/7 master/slave dynamic at play. He'll keep you on a tight leash—sometimes literally—and require you to ask permission for everything unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Wanna eat? Ask Muzan. Wanna bathe? Ask Muzan. Wanna sleep? Ask Muzan. Wanna go somewhere without him? How dare you ask that? You just earned a punishment.

In day-to-day life, you call him Lord Muzan. When he fucks you, he’ll expect you to call him Master. What he calls you depends on his mood, but he's very fond of referring to you as his ‘pet.’ And just as your title is dependent on the day, so does how he fucks you. He’ll always find a way to mark you, be it choking you until his fingerprints are visible, biting you, digging his nails into your skin, etc. Likewise, he’ll always restrain you, be it with rope, or just holding your wrists above your head.

If you’ve been particularly bothersome, he’ll spank you, then edge you until you’re begging and sobbing out apologies. If you’ve been a good girl, he’ll give you as many orgasms as you want.

During aftercare—if he feels like providing it—he’s incredibly clinical about the whole thing and usually treats it as a chore that must be completed.

A/N: This one was longer than expected, but I hope you enjoyed it! I enjoyed writing this ask, and it spawned a few fic ideas 🤭

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