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#with diamonds for teeth of course
shaottzang · 1 month
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you've got a diamonds
for teeth, my love.
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail
gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)
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Thinking about your rich boyfriend…
Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough. 
Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking. 
Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.
Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.
Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets. 
It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.
Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do. 
Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.
Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality. 
But you’re not joking… 
You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?
You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide. 
Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…
Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that. 
Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.
Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.
He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything. 
Anything you want, it’s yours.
But he owns you.
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BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo, Rin
HxH – Illumi
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chrollohearttags · 7 months
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UNDER THE INFLUENCE | e. jaeger
content + themes: our fav sluts being sluts, spit play, drunk sex, possessive eren, makeup sex if you squint, very vocal eren, he’s kinda a switch, oral sex, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, foot play, lots of praise, dirty talk, squirting, (daddy, princess, baby used) overstimulation..I mean, the ask says it all…there’s so much more though.
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📝: shoutouts to you, anon. 🤞🏾🤍 (couldn’t find this in my inbox but I surely screenshotted it a while ago and decided to circle back!). Consider this my consolation for putting y’all through it. 😁
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
addiction. A word with negative connotations almost every time it was uttered. A word that signified the need, the craving and desire for one thing..for some, it was drugs. For others, it was alcohol and for EJ? It was you… “Mmph!—okayyy, Eren! Baby, please…at least let us get through the door.”
“Nah…need you so bad right now. ‘Don’t know what to do..” although, he wouldn’t exactly consider it a bad thing! After all, you drew him in and he never wanted you to release the grip that was your love. But just as it was with any vice, when someone faces withdrawals, their next hit was going to be the best one. And for Eren, he was determined to get his fill! Making your way back to the hotel room where you had been residing during you guys’ stay in Los Angeles. It wasn’t a city that either of you visited often but you had gotten quite the opportunity to work with a large brand and wasn’t about to turn it down for anything. Of course, your doting husband was right by your side. Which came as a surprise to those who were on social media, feeding into the never ending rumor mill that swore you guys were splitting up. Allegations of cheating, fighting…it had caused quite the rift between you two but now, he was planning to rectify any mistakes or confusion..
“C’mon, mama..don’t hold it from me right now. Lemme eat that pussy.” Pleading in a whiny huff, he’d steady you against the wall, hands scouring your frame as he peeled those articles of clothing away from your body. Sliding that silk dress down far enough to expose your perfect tits. His lips, fresh with the scent of liquor still on them. A result of the copious amounts he had been drinking all night. Once your appearance was over, a lively after party was hosted at a nightclub and you both indulged in the amenities offered..him a lot more than you! Hennessy, Ace of Spades and vodka, he had been mixing it all and with that combination coursing his veins, he was much more lecherous than usual. He’d suckle on those erect nipples, sloppily lapping at those brown buds as he groped your breasts. Meanwhile, he was rolling the hem of your dress up and propping one of those toned legs on his shoulder. He was ravenous..craving you with all he had and was going to show you just how much! “Take it!..yes, baby—“ a finger slid between your teeth as you observed him sinking to his knees and spreading you open. “Imma fuck the shit ‘out you, I swear..” That heat was slathered in glistening slick; only partially covered by that lacy garment. He didn’t even bother to remove them when he began his rapid ascent into your juicy cunt. “You can have all this dick…just lemme taste you first, baby..” Slurping loudly with that swollen clit puckered between his lips. Nose brushing against your covered mound; folds making contact with his tongue, especially when your fingers were coiled around his thick, dark locks. Grinding your slit against his face. And he’d devour it..in his drunken haze, Eren smacked, sucked and licked at your sex vigorously. Not worried about the mess trickling down to his chin or diamond chain. Even when you shook violently from your first orgasm. He wanted all that you had..
“Put that shit in my face, mama. Use me..you deserve it.” Continuing his feasting assault. He was enjoying touching, kissing and peppering your most sensitive areas with affection. “Y’know how much I missed you? Missed kissing on this pretty pussy…” He couldn’t help himself, truly. Watching you strut about in that dress, dance and shake your ass with a drink in hand…it drove him crazy so when he got behind closed doors, you were all his. So much so, he’d become as freaky and fluid with you as he desired…. “Matter of fact…spit in my fucking mouth. Lemme taste that shit.” Lobbing a long string down to his lips where he’d graciously swallow and continue devouring you. Squeezing at your breasts, (y/n) rolled your hips and rode his face with all you had. “Oh God, it feels so good!—eating this shit so good, baby..” He’d slap and spank your ass, squeezing those plump cheeks..getting more than his fill of his beautiful wife. In a moment of haste, he’d rise from his knees and cradle you in one fell swoop. Sweeping you from your feet to carry you over to the bed, where he’d toss you to finish stripping you from your clothes and eventually, doing the same of his own.
“Eren…”
“Yeah, princess? Tell me what you need..tell me everything you want..”
huffing as he tore off his shirt and unbuckled his pants..whilst he did so, he’d watch you spread your legs slightly; revealing that line of slick he had drawn up. He couldn’t wait to sink his cock in between those fat pussy lips..feel that tight warmth once again and reclaim your body as his own. Whilst he’d do so, you were rubbing and massaging your clit; curling your legs up in the air..
“..Need you to fuck me..want that dick so bad…”
whilst listening to your demands, he’d stroke himself from the base to the tip, getting his already stiff hard on even more erect. Chewing at his lower lip as he watched you toy with that plump cunt. It looked so good, he put in his mind right then and there that he may never pull out. You were going to be stuffed full of his cum.
“Then open them legs, baby..hold ‘em open..” traipsing straight up to you; placing a knee in the center of the bed as you spread yourself to his desire. That slit was overflowing with arousal and waiting for him to sink his cock in between those walls. You were already pulsating, recollecting the last time he had truly made love to you. With his entire being…fucking you slowly and relentlessly until you screamed out his name. Clawing your nails into his back until sharp red marks were left and every last droplet of his nut was housed inside of you after emptying those giant balls of his. You needed it and he craved you all the same. So without another moment of hesitation, after tapping himself against you..he’d glide right in.
“Oh my—fuuuck, baby. You feel so good. That pussy’s so tight..”
howling out as if it were the first time all over again. Regardless of how many times he took claim of you, the ever so familiar clutch and grip of your hole remained. Almost as if it were perfectly designed for him. He didn’t waste another second in trying to adjust or acclimate but rather, feeding you rhythmic, fluid strokes. Clawing a hand through his chocolate locks, Eren honed in on you and ensured that you felt every single thrust. “..goddamn…look at that shit. She’s creaming on me…you missed me too, baby? You missed daddy?” Cooing to both you and your needy cunt..referring to the milky sheath dripping all down shaft and balls. “Yes, daddy! Fuck!…I missed you so much. Missed the way you fucked me…” Although he was still gaining his stride, it took no time for your bodies to become reconnected. Housing him like that of a glove after each stroke. Regardless of his lack of sobriety, he was love drunk on you any day of the week and that would never change. With your quivering legs resting on his shoulders, he’d grab and position your foot to the center of his chest and kept a hold onto it. Suddenly, his lips would make home on the instep and ankle, ravaging it with soft and tender kisses. By then, his pace had begun to speed up and his opposite hand was circulating near your clit; massaging the sensitive bud with his thumb pad. Once he heard your response, he’d started to throb inside of you, loving how desperate you were for him..time and distance regardless.
“I know, princess…I’m so sorry I was away from you..” just then, you’d feel the sensation of your white painted toes gliding in and out of his mouth. Suckling and licking on them as faint growls arose from his throat. He was like a man unhinged, needing and craving you carnally. “That’s okay..because I swear imma make it up to you…” vowing through heavy pants as the feeling of you wrapped around his member had begun to take its toll. “Imma make you come until you can’t anymore. I’m yours..all night. Use me to get that nut. As many as you want..” That fat mushroom tip had swollen to its capacity..seeping precum as it pecked the inner corner of your cervix. Because of it, you had begun to emit splashes of squirt. “Fuuuck yes! Right there…right there, you’re stretching this fucking pussy, baby.” He’d slow down as not too catch them all at once because he wanted to take his time enjoying the onslaught of it. You had never heard him so vocal and primal, taking his time to ensure that your body was well and satisfied. Still thrashing around inside of you, Eren left one final kiss on your foot before bending those legs back behind your head; folding you into that of a quintessential pretzel shape. Either way, each movement of his thick cock was visible..down to the bulge in the lower part of your belly.
“..Nngh! ‘S too much, daddy! Need you take some out..”
whimpering for him with your fingers pawing at his abs, tapping because not even he realized how deep he was in it. Buried to the base with balls smacking your asshole. The bed was rattling around and the headboard slamming against the walls of the suite. Luckily, you had no guests nearby..otherwise, they were in for an earful. But that was neither of your concern. Even so, he couldn’t grant your request until you did something in return for him. Halting, he’d allow that dick to rest idly inside of you as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, working them in and out. “You gone squirt for me, mama? Nut all over this dick?” And naturally, he’d received a prompt nod back. He seemed satisfied with your answer so he’d slowly ease that throbbing cock out; a stream of his cum absentmindedly spraying across your torso and as promised, you’d spray his entire abdomen and cock up with those sweet, warm juices. He was pleased with the little display of waterworks, regardless of your whimpers. “There we go…good girl.” Praising you as you pushed out more of that nectar. Your legs were left in a trembling mess but he gave you no time to recover..
“Save some f’r me..” chuckling as he lowered his head and lapped up every drop of it, even latching into your clit despite the sensitivity. He was insatiable and hungrier for you, now more than ever! With your entire body left in shambles, he’d work his way back up from your thighs to your neck with that trailing tongue..wrapping a hand around your throat as he whispered into your ear. “I love you, fuck I swear..I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that..” whilst doing so..lingering on his every word, he’d ease himself back inside and resume his movements. Each one felt so much better than the last and you were hooked, on his every word and embrace. “I love you too, ‘Ren! I love you too..please, don’t stop..” He truly meant it and you never doubted for a second, even if that liquor was making the feelings more intense. He was yours and nothing could keep you two apart ever again. Peppering your temple with kisses, he’d persist and pound your core until you were leaking yet again. Almost without missing a beat, he’d spout a small loud into your womb and continued going..
“Don’t worry, princess. I’m not going nowhere…I’m right here wit’ you. You opening up so good f’r me…gonna make me give you all this nut..you want it? Want me to get you pregnant tonight?”
questioning in a high pitched coo as he were reaching his second peak so soon. Running on what seemed to be fumes but he had far more in the tank. You were throbbing; smiling with a fucked out expression on your face at the thought of him breeding you. Whatever he wanted to do…you were more than happy to go along with. As long as he kept making love to you like this.
“Please..come in me. Come in this pussy…it’s yours, always been yours..”
Glaring into his eye and encouraging that cum out of him. Low and behold, it didn’t take long before that he’d halt yet again and release not only a loud, ear shattering moan but a warm load as well. Right in the depth of your womb. Your nails dragged into his back, signifying just how good he was making you feel. But this was only the beginning of your drunken..steamy stupor. The best was yet to come!..
“Fuck..need you to take more of that, baby..need you to empty me.”
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pomefioredove · 1 month
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could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^
more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc
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If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
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Trey and Cater's Ending
"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"
Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?
Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"
Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.
"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."
Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.
"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"
Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.
"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"
Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"
"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."
"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.
---
"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.
It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.
Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"
"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."
"...Understandable,"
Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.
"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."
You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"
"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."
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Leona's Ending
"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.
"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"
Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"
"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"
He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.
---
"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."
You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.
"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."
"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."
Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.
"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"
He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"
"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"
"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"
"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.
You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.
"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"
He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."
You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.
It could be better, but it could also be worse.
Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.
This could definitely be interesting...
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Rook's Ending
"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."
At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."
"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"
Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.
As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.
What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.
The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.
He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."
...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.
"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.
"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.
"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"
You couldn't have said it better yourself.
Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"
The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"
You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.
Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.
It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.
"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"
"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.
Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"
"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"
He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.
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Idia's Ending
LOL. Normies.
Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.
I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.
That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...
The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.
He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.
Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"
"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"
"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"
Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"
Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"
"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"
"Well-"
"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"
"But Idia-"
"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"
"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.
"Idia, you won!"
And then he dies.
That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.
"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"
A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.
"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"
He takes a long moment to respond.
"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"
You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.
"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"
"I could go for something,"
Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.
"Um..."
He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"
He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.
"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"
He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.
Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"
"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"
"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"
"Clever," you murmur.
Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"
"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"
You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"
You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.
"Well? Are you coming?"
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Lilia's Ending
"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"
Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"
Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"
Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.
Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"
"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.
---
You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.
You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"
"Surprised, you say?"
No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.
You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.
Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.
"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"
Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.
"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"
You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.
"No,"
"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"
"Definitely not, then,"
He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.
It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.
"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.
Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"
There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.
"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"
"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"
You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"
"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"
"Then... who is?"
Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"
Ah.
If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.
This might take the cake, though.
"I didn't even know-"
"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"
"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"
"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"
"This is... quite the turn of events,"
"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"
You can only grimace at that.
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Malleus' Ending
During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.
Not that it mattered. Not this time.
One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.
"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.
Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"
Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.
Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.
"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.
You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...
"Yes,"
Oh.
"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.
Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"
"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."
Oddly profound.
You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.
"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."
He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"
"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"
Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.
And the, he smiles.
"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"
What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"
"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"
He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"
You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.
"Yes, it does,"
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cute-sucker · 13 days
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note: this is a continuation of ex-husband rafe headcannons !! please send requests about this relationship! would love to write more about this <3
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.
rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier and you hated every bit of it, specifically when you started to date again. it was like alarms went off in his head, as he started to show up more. you hadn't told anyone about dating anyone, but your therapist had recommended it.
she'd eased you into it, telling you maybe it was time to put yourself out there into the market. you had shook you head, and laughed at the suggestion, who would want you? a single mother with a obsessive ex-husband. but then suddenly you started to consider it. there was nothing wrong with it, so you accidentally brought it up to rafe.
you had been a bit tipsy, after downing a few fruity cocktail at rafe's work party. you still went to them even though the two of you weren't married. you tried not to notice the way rafe was still wearing the golden band around his neck, and the way his hand travelled to the low part of your back.
"hi," you whispered to him, leaning on him. he looked surprised, of course he was, anytime you saw him you were either scolding or glaring at him, and for you to be giving him your prettiest bright smile? that was something.
"hi sweets," he replied back softly adjusting your dress before dropping his gaze to your lips, and quickly back to your eyes. "what's on that pretty mind?"
you giggled, feeling happy as you looked up to him, "i think i'm going to start dating again. i think it will be good for me, what do you think rafe?" you asked him, before sipping your drink again.
you missed the way that rafe's eyes narrowed at your confession or the way his arms got tighter around your waist, hand going up to touch his nose. yet you felt a little uncomfortable, as you tried to wiggle away from his tight arms.
"yea? what gave you that idea?" he asked you quietly, yet his words felt razor sharp as he gritted his teeth, "who put that silly idea in your head?"
here you frowned, absentmindedly twirling your straw in your pink glass, "um," you started feeling your throat clogg up, "i don't know i thought-? why you think i'm not pretty enough? that i'm ugly now that i've had a baby."
"no, of course now sweets. but i just think it's a bad idea," he said biting his lip, tilting his head in that innocent way. it grated on you, and you rolled your eyes and you felt yourself sober up.
"fuck you cameron. fuck you," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes, before sniffling and you shoving your drink into his hands.
you tried to forget that. after all the both of you pretended it never happened, practically tip toing after one and other. he still came around once and while, trying to be sweet on you before you muttered something with an annoyed expression to get him off you.
and for a while you didn't see him, untill the day you were going on a date. you had a pretty dress on, dangly earings and a diamond necklace. all dolled up, you absentmindedly hummed under your breath feeling a bit nervous, only to hear the front door click open.
there he was. rafe cameron staring at you as you were making your breakfast. he quickly made away to put his arms around your waist, taking a deep breath of your perfume. "you smell good. all of that for me?" he teased, and you made an uncommitted hum.
"hey baby," he said to your baby girl with an easy smile, winking at your little girl who ran into his arms.
"aww you've grown, haven't ya?" rafe cooed to your little girl who jumped nodding furiously. she was holding some flowers in her hand, and had little pigtails. then she told him she had to show him how high she could jump, and he nodded raising his eyebrows in interest, but you didn't miss the way he scanned you and your party dress.
you wanted to give him a dirty look, but when he made your daughter happy like that there was nothing you could do but smile under your breath hoping that he wouldn't notice. you continued to prepare the pancakes, licking the chocolate batter and tossing in a few blueberries.
finally, he seemed to pluck up the courage to ask you. you felt your body tense up feeling anxious.
"where are you going?" he asked softly, eyes watching you move in the kitchen, "you look too pretty to just be dressed up." you closed your eyes, letting out a tired sigh. you could almost feel your throat clog up as you balled up your fists.
you had to tell him. couldn't lie, because rafe cameron would figure out anything he wanted. there was a reason he was a good business man it was because he continued to go for what he wanted leaving other things in the process.
"i have a date today," you said slowly, sprinkling powdered sugar on the warm pancakes, and before he could open his mouth you quickly started to speak again, "daisy, come in sweetie! breakfast is ready."
the look he gave you told you things were not done.
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
"so who's the guy?" he asks you with a measured look, and you try to ignore the way he's gritting his jaw, and the way he's eying you in that predatory way.
you sighed, putting away your plates. daisy is gone playing with the new toy that daddy got for her. how convenient, you thought, it was almost as if what was going to happen. as if he had planned this all.
"just a random guy."
"lucky guy."
"alright, rafe, just say it!" you hissed out, spinning to look him the eye. "just say what you came for."
rafe closed his eyes, running a hand over his hair, "listen. if it was up to me you would live with me, we'd still be married, and there wouldn't be a random guy!"
"well good thing it's not up to you then huh?" you spat back, pointing an accusiatory finger to his chest, "you made a decision when we were married. you. not me. you were gone for nights and nights for work, it felt as if i was drowning and, you screwed this up."
"you think i don't know that?" rafe muttered back, throwing his hands in the air, "you think i don't wake up every day knowing i lost the best woman in my life."
you felt tears well up in your eyes, "no, you can't say that. you can't say something like that. not after everything."
"fine. have fun in with your date."
and then he's gone again leaving you with your shattered heart.
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier yet when you came back that night crying over the phone, telling him how he screwed up everything for you, he still picked up. he came over, nursing you back to health, his soothing warm hands on your back as you sobbed into his chest.
the two of you stay like that, a parallel of what could have been.
taglist: @bouearis , @kys4-20 , @rafeecameronsbitch , @mrsbarnesblog , @slytherins-heir
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muzansfangs · 3 months
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His kink.
Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Sukuna Ryomen x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names, handcuffing the partner, anal sex, implied size kink, praising kink, jealousy, breeding kink, mention to pregnacy, language, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom!Sukuna, dom!Toji, dom!Kento, vaginal fingering, oral sex (reader!receiving), overstimulation;
Plot: You would do anything for your man. Even crossing some lines, allowing him to have the full control over your body. The moment you tell him to show you his kink, you watch in awe as his face lights up in delight and your body becomes a canvas for him to paint. Are you ready for him?
PART ONE | PART TWO.
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Nanami Kento.
Creampie and breeding.
His teeth ripping the condom open made your thighs quiver, your legs spread wide opened in front of him as you stared at Kento in untainted lust. You were soaked, your clitoris throbbing in need, your hips bucking up in anticipation while he kept an intense eye-contact with you. How badly he desired you. You drove him nuts without even trying. If only you could know how desperately he wanted to breed you, to make you his completely, to mark you as his property.
Kento almost felt disgusted by his own thoughts, at times. He had such a high consideration of you. He kissed the ground you walked on, he cherished you as a rare diamond set in a emperor’s crown in a museum. You were not an object to him, you were the love of his life, the only thing worth fighting for. Yet, he could not help himself, but desire ardently to mess you up, to leave something his into you as a reminder of who you belonged to.
Rolling the condom over his length, eyebrows knitted together as a soft groan escaped his lips, Kento flicked his gaze towards your midriff. Splaying his hand over it, he gripped your hip with his other one and made sure to glide his cock down your slit. The pinkish head tapped onto your swollen clitoris, ripping a whimper out of your throat. It was too much, you needed him and you needed him now, at his worst.
Tired of not being able to experience the hedonistic feeling of raw contact, you spoke out in a desperate plea “Take off the condom”.
Your workaholic boyfriend froze solid, eyes boring into yours in pure awe, his cock twitching at the mere thought of nestling into your warm, wet cavern without any barrier to prevent his seed from spurting into you. His jaw was clenched, his head dipping down to nose your cheek reassuringly. He would have never done anything without your consent, let alone something so deranged, unhinged, so forward as asking for unprotected sex.
“Are you sure about it?” he quietly asked you, while your hand shot up to play with the base of his hair at back of his neck.
“I know what I want” you replied confidently, your tone dripping arousal and confidence. That was the last straw.
Kento raised back on his knees, a small smile creeping on his lips as he lost the last shred of self-control coursing through his veins. Unrolling the condom from his member, he loomed back over you, hands cupping your cheeks to involve you into a sloppy, passionate kiss that made your toes curl. You were his, in the most intimate and depraved way possible, you were his and his alone.
The moment you felt the head of his cock rub down your folds, you arched your back at the contact. Your juices coated his flesh, guttural groans rambling from somewhere deep into his chest, as you wrapped your legs invitingly around his waist to pull him even closer, to tell him you wanted it for real.
Flicking his gaze up to you, Kento pushed past your folds, the girthy head of his cock splitting your walls gradually apart, forcing them to adjust to the intrusion. He grunted, the feeling of your pussy clamping down onto him so delicious as you squeezed his length with every passing second. Kento almost faltered, the dim fear of not being able to last enough to please you both making him grit his teeth as he finally bottomed out.
You let out a strained moan, his pelvis squashed against yours, as you fluttered your eyes shut to enjoy the feeling and relax your muscles. As per usual, he took his sweet time in letting you getting comfortable enough to begin.
“You are so perfect” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose as he rolled his hips slowly to earn another breathy moan from you.
You were ready, your were so ready for it as your hands glided down his muscular back, tracing the outline of his flexed muscles as you brought your lips close to his ear “Fuck me now. Fill me up, please” you whispered, lips grazing against the shell of his ear.
You were playing with fire.
Kento groaned, eyes closing, as he exhaled through his nostrils in a futile attempt to tame the ravenous beast inside him, roaring, champing at the bit of devouring you wholly to the bone.
“Don’t tempt me, love” Kento whispered, planting a chaste kiss over your parted lips. The action was paired by his suave way of pulling out of you, until just the tip was left buried into your clenching hole.
Shooting a languishing glance at him through your half-lidded eyes, your legs tightened around his waist and you opted for running your fingers leisurely through the blonde strands of his hair, tugging at them right before pronouncing the words he needed to stop fighting his own urges “Give me your seed” you calmly, soothingly said, watching in awe how your beloved man swallowed forcefully before burying his face onto the crook of your neck.
That was it.
Slamming his hips back onto yours, you whimpered, arching your back in pleasure and an ounce of pain. His hands rested at each side of your head, his knuckles turning pale as he thrusted into you with a rough, steady pace, eyes closed to focus on the squelching sound of his cock gliding into your wetness.
You moaned for him, inner walls spasmodically clenching around his length, as he pushed you closer to your climax with each stroke he gifted you with. Sweat beaded his forehead, the bed creaking under you both, as he suddenly grasped your jaw roughly to bring your face close to his one. You had never seen him this hungry for you, this feral.
“I’m going to fill you up, alright? I’ll fuck a baby into you tonight. Mine, you are all mine” he rasped out darkly, making your body shudder as you nodded your head in pure ecstasy.
Sticking up to this oath, Kento grasped your thighs, hips snapping down onto yours in urgency as he chased his own orgasm. Despite that, he still made sure you were fine, his eyes scrutinizing your face in search for any signs of discomfort, reluctance, fear. All it would have taken for him to stop and pull out of you was just a mere shadow of regret on your face. But when he found none of that, he simply captured your lips with his ones in a tender kiss, before burying himself deep into you and letting his sperm whiten your insides.
The action was so powerful that you moaned into his mouth, climaxing with him as your body enjoyed the bliss he had just introduced you to.
Panting, you stared up into his eyes, shimmering in sheer lust and love. You could read it all over his face, he was glad to have you, he was glad to love you.
Nanami Kento was glad to have finally made you his permanently.
Toji Fushiguro.
Handcuffing and overstimulation.
The clink of the shiny, metal handcuffs your boyfriend had bought yesterday being jiggled in front of your face made your cheeks heat up and you bit down onto your lower lip in anticipation. Your heart was thumping into your chest so hard you thought it was going to jump out of your chest, breaking your ribcage and running wild into a field of depravation and unknown shapes of pleasure.
Sex with Toji was unique. You had always been the adventurous and experimental type and his suggestions never failed to amaze you. Sometimes, you almost felt inexperienced compared to him, but it was all part of the game. You relationship was not a conventional one anyway. Expecting him not to lean on the freak side among the bedsheets would have been a self-evident mistake. Now, fully naked and kneeling onto his bed, you stared up at him with excitement and curiosity twinkling in your eyes.
“You’re under arrest, doll” your boyfriend jested, watching as you laid down and raised your wrists above your head, allowing him to slap the cold cuffs that would have bound you to the bedhead for only God knew how long.
You smiled up at him, quirking your eyebrows up in defiance, while he made sure you were capable of freeing yourself with a violent tug of your arms “May I know the reason behind it?” you asked him, albeit you perfectly knew what you had done to make him lose his temper. He had never really shown you his extreme kinks, not until now. But it was about time you learned not to mess up with him.
Toji’s wolfish grin was enough to make you realize how much you had screwed up this time, his tongue swiping over his lower lip to moisten it before he spoke our “Flirting with Shiu in front of me, purring in his ear like a goddamn cat in heat while I was in the back of the bar to fulfill the mission is rude, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he cooed, cocking his head to the side in a mixture of contempt and amusement.
You were in for a long, draining ride and no one was going to come to your rescue.
With your legs spread in front of him, pussy glistening under the dim light provided by the lamp on the nightstand at your right, you displayed the most innocent smile you could muster but surely not an apology “What can I say? I was bored and you were taking your sweet time in beating up that drunk shithead. I figured you needed a little push to finish the job and take me back home” you explained, watching as Toji laid flatly onto his stomach, hauling your thighs over his large shoulders.
He sighed, hot breath fanning your core, as he nuzzled his nose against your clitoris, enjoying the way your breath hitched and you instinctively tensed up, the cuffs preventing you from grabbing a fistful of his hair as you always did when he gave you oral.
“Such a little minx” he taunted you, darting his tongue out of his mouth lick a stripe down your folds. You were soaked, your walls clenching around nothing, after being edged for nearly one hour.
As you gazed down at Toji, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clitoris, sucking, nibbling, swirling his tongue around it to elicit sinful moans from you, your thighs squeezed his head unintentionally. Tears of pleasure brimmed in your eyes, chest raising and falling erratically, as he used his fingers to spread your labia.
“So wet for me, baby, huh?” Toji mockingly noted, before resuming his relentless attack on your bundle of nerves.
Electricity rushed through your body, little whimpers and whines uncontrollably rolling down your tongue and pampering his ego even more. Only Toji was capable of messing you up like that, to reduce you to a writhing mass of moans and sweat.
Your mouth hanging opened, his fingers curled into you, stimulating the spogy spot into your that made your back arch, lifting off of the mattress. He was purposefully aiming to break you, therefore you decided to push his limits as well.
“No, it’s not for you… It’s for Shiu” you taunted him, lower lip wobbling for the overstimulation he was putting you through.
You heard Toji scoff, before he plunged a third finger into you, scissoring them into you unforgivingly. Maybe you should have clamped your mouth shut, maybe you should have not agreed in letting him restrain your hands, but you were so delightfully overwhelmed in that very moment that you were debating wether or not to beg for forgiveness.
His eyes had darkened, his breath heavy as he dragged orgasm after orgasm from you. Toji did not care about the sheets getting drenched, or the fact that you were now babbling out a series of incoherent words, no, he only cared about asserting his dominance over you.
“I guess we’re done with that. But now it’s time to properly fuck some sense into you, baby. Let me fill that tight, slutty hole of yours” Toji eventually croaked out, a crooked smile adorning his scarred lips as all you could do was nodding your head and panting.
The moment his cock prodded at your leaking opening, you were ready for him once again and your desire set your heart abalze.
Safe word? Oh no, you did not need one. Defintely not.
Ryomen Sukuna.
Anal and hair pulling.
Sex with him was extrasensorial. Sometimes, he joked about how he was almost scared to crash you in the process, how he thought his cock would not fit into you, or the fact that if he was not overly careful he would have ended up splitting you in half. However, he loved the size difference between you two. You were so small compared to him and his large, calloused hands cupped your hips perfectly.
But the words he spoke frequently jarred with his actions.
Manhandling you in bed was an art he had crafted with maniacal carefulness. Possessing you, your soul, your body was his main purpose. Now, with his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at the strands harshly to make you arch your back, you knew that what you had agreed to do was going to leave you sore for days, possibly a week. But this was how far you would go for love, for him, for satisfying his needs. Being his ‘good little girl’ was your natural predisposition. Or so he claimed.
“Damn, you’re hot like that. — he chimed, hands unceremoniously spreading your ass cheeks to check on your puckered hole — Fuck, I still can’t believe your ex did not pop that cherry” he sarcastically commented, smearing some lube over your entrance and applying some of it on his length as well.
“He asked for it. I just refused” you replied, glancing at him from above your shoulder.
His shit-eating grin made your stomach flip and you sank your foreteeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from squirming. You were excited, you really were, but his size had always been quite challenging to take. It did not matter how many times he had penetrated your pussy, or your stretched your throat, you always needed quite a bit to adjust your body to the impressive girth. The idea if that cock invading your most delicate and private area scared you a little.
“Damn, then the bastard would definitely be upset, if he found out his former chick has changed her mind for me” he proudly asserted, lining up his cock with your tight hole.
Your breath hitched and you did not get the opportunity to properly answer him, a pained, strained moan ripped from your throat as he began to gradually push the tip into you. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets in front of you so tightly you were ready to bet your head they were going to rip into shreds. Your eyes watered, you batted your lashes a few times to clear your vision, as he stopped and rubbed soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
It was so unlike him to be that caring. There was something in the way he gave you space, time to adapt to the new activity, to let yout body both enjoy the pleasing sensation and the painful stretch.
“Breathe, babe. We’re in no hurry. Relax” he tried to calm you down and you rested your forehead down onto the pillow to try and bid your body to follow his suggestion. You could do it, you really could and Sukuna had no problem in taking it slow for once.
“Fuck, you are drop dead gorgeous like that, you know? You are already doing so good for me” he praised you then, his tone dripping a confidence that made you smile through the barbed experience of the hour.
Taking a deeper breath, you hummed and glanced at him, turning your head enough to let him see you were alright “Go ahead. I can take it… I can” you reassured him, a faint but genuine smile gracing your lips as he squeezed your hips reassuringly and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the base of your neck.
“That’s my motherfucking woman” he rasped out, before proceeding in thrusting in more, grunting as he watched his member being perfectly swallowed inch by inch by you.
It took a while for the pain to subside, it being your first time playing a major role in the way things played out. He had used enough lube and he had even fingered you a little before doing the deed, yet, his size was not easy to accomodate to. Once he had began to thrust into you, moans of pleasure and whimpers began to take over. The dull pain was still there, but it was definitely worth it.
Sukuna knew what he was doing and you trusted him, holding his hand figuratively as he fucked you to oblivion. Jumping into the unknown scared you, but you had taken the leap and it was perfect.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Here we are with the first part of a project that had been haunting me for months now. The second part, which includes Suguru Geto, Hiromi Higurma and Satoru Gojo,has been posted! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
x o x o
TAGS: @brittscafe @doumadono @mrskokushibo @axesfordays @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @marinnnnnnnnn
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tojisun · 5 months
Text
simon (ghost) riley x fem bimbo!reader
!! smut - minors dni; cunnilingus; genital piercing (christina piercing); hinted age gap (30s v 20s); simon’s pov
: this is based on oddy’s brainworm of bimbo!reader getting a christina piercing while simon’s away for a 9-10 month mission as a surprise for when he comes home teehee <33 // bimbo!reader mlist
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simon tries to swallow any remaining spit he has just to quench the building thirst in him, but it is understandably futile. he is left walking behind you with a spring in his step, pretences having flown into the wind the moment you barrelled towards him as soon as he got home.
it is a usual dance at this point: you, jumping into his arms all excitable, and him, planting his feet to catch you with ease. simon knows he’ll never tire of this routine, one that never fails to fill him up with over pouring affection that he carries for you.
“i have a surprise for you,” you whispered to him, your voice so small in your hushed giddiness.
you stared at him with sultry eyes, your bottom lip captured between your pearly teeth. simon felt his mouth go bone-dry, his chest stuttering and his fucking chub kicking up underneath his jeans because he knows that look.
dear gods, he knows that look.
the last time you surprised him with anything after his months-long mission, it left simon marking your thighs up with kisses and hickeys and bite marks, the ridges of his teeth so prominent on that single point that stood out in the expanse of your dewy skin – his callsign, ghost, inked on your inner thigh, somewhere close to the juncture of your legs and your pelvis.
so you can’t blame simon for being too interested and going all breathless in anticipation as you led him back to your room.
he’s fumbling for his steps as you two step inside – white walls and strawberry cow print sheets – where you proceeded to sit him down on your vanity before taking a few steps away from him.
“okay so,” you begin, swaying slightly, looking deceptively shy. “i really hope you’d like it.”
simon’s gaze shifts, desire warming to make room for the softness he feels. he shoots you a small smile. “y’know y’can give me a paper cup for your surprise and i’d still love it.”
“of course,” you giggle, rubbing your palms on your sides. “‘s just that i thought of you when i got it so, you know.”
simon’s throat constricts, his pulse quickening at your words – you thought of him when you got it. oh. oh fuck.
“i-” his voice cracks and simon ducks his head down in his embarrassment, clearing his throat quickly so that this moment may pass soon because he can feel himself bursting at the seams.
“thank you, sweets,” he finally utters, rubbing his palm along his face in hopes of abating the blush warming his cheeks.
you beam at him, all pretty and happy, before you begin to slide your skirt off.
jesus.
“oh,” he rasps out, a strained gasp spilling into the air. simon has to clench his fists on top of his thighs to restrain himself, feeling so faint at getting a flash of your pretty legs, his eyes trailing from your floral lace socks before climbing up to get a view of your pretty little lingerie.
his tongue feels heavy sitting in his mouth as he catalogues the little thing – sheer, red, and dainty. it’s not hiding anything, showcasing slivers of flesh that simon wants to sink his teeth into.
it’s not hiding anything so he wonders why it took him a while to notice it. there, nestled just above your clit, are two little diamond studs.
“are those-” his voice sounds strained even to his own ears, the words having been punched out from him as his lungs work over time.
“yeah,” you say with a quiet chuckle and simon briefly wonders how you must look right now but he can’t lift his head to look at you, unable to rip his eyes away from the twinkling diamonds on your body. one of your hands slide from your hips towards your pubic area, acrylics making soft scratching sounds against your sheer panties.
the gems on your nails matches your new piercing – christina, simon’s mind supplies right away – and he just about whimpers.
finally, simon’s eyes flit to your own, and he doesn’t know what he must look like because the brief shyness on your face melts away and desire begins to burn from your eyes. the tension is building between you two, settling in like a dense fog, and simon waits for a heartbeat and another before he’s lunging towards you.
hands tangle against each other in mutual desperation, blindly tearing apparel from each other’s bodies with nothing but twin ragged breaths to fill up the space. simon throws you to the bed, his chest heaving as he stands by the foot of it to gaze down at you, eyes full of palpable hunger as they rove over your presented body.
“mine,” simon rumbles. “all mine.”
he covers your smaller body with his bulk, trembling hands greedy as they press and pull and squeeze at your flesh. your tiny mewls fuel him as he bends down to hover his lips over your pussy. your beautiful, pierced pussy.
“simmy,” you hiccup, your voice a soft little thing. “please, no teasing.”
of course, he wants to say because simon is sure that he doesn’t even have it in himself to prolong it anymore. not when he’s missed you by a lot, having been away for one of his longest missions. and especially not after the gift you have for him.
simon’s silence ripples, promising, and he knows he doesn’t have to say any more.
he kisses your cunt with his lips, nuzzling just soon after. you gasp out from somewhere on top of him, your hands gathering the short strands of his hair in your fist, and tugging when simon doesn’t do anything more than ghost kisses.
simon presses another one as an apology before planting his hands on your thighs and pushing your legs open, presenting your already-wet cunt to him. briefly, he remembers your older gift, and simon shifts, nuzzling your inner thigh instead, nipping at your inked skin.
simon is not a narcissistic man but there is something so good at seeing you carrying his callsign, as though he’s branded you. claimed. marked.
you giggle at the touch, fists loosening just a bit, your legs losing their tension at the ticklish feeling. simon puffs out a huffed laughter, enjoying the moment, taking it all in, then he is moving.
because there is something else he wants in his mouth. something else he wants to explore.
the first drag of his tongue along your clit and up until the first stud of your piercing has you squealing, your small feet digging into the planes of his back. it pushes him even closer to your cunt, something that simon eagerly takes advantage of as he begins to eat you out with earnest.
the cool press of the barbell on his tongue is a new experience, one that he is beginning to love as he continues to lap his tongue along your folds. simon flicks his tongue over the piercing, careful not to truly tug it, before he’s moving on to suck on your clit, rolling the little thing on his tongue.
you choke on a moan, hips lifting off the bed as you thrash, and simon has to press down on your belly to subdue you. you squeak when you are pinned, fists leaving simon’s hair to claw at the sheets instead. simon kisses your clit once more as an apology, before lapping at your hole, pushing his tongue in to mimic shallow thrusts.
“si-!”
your moan sounds guttural, bouncing off of the walls as simon continues to fuck you with his tongue. your slick pools in his mouth and he doesn’t even recognize the answering growl that rumbles from the base of his throat – deep and primal.
his thick hands grip at your thighs, tugging you in a new position, forcing your back to arch as simon continues to make a mess of your pussy.
pretty, pretty pussy.
“s’mine,” simon growls the moment he pulls his tongue out to suck on your folds.
he lightly nips at your clit, and a choked sob falls from what he knows would be your bruised lips. you do tend to bite on them when drunk in your pleasure, nibbling until they are throbbing and plump, looking so kiss-swollen.
fuck. he wants to kiss you there too.
simon gives your clit one more suck before he lifts his head up, the warm air on your room hitting his damp face. he sees the way your chest is heaving before flitting his eyes over your hands to see them tremblingly fisting at your sheets. your head is tipped up, mouth open as you shakily gasp out your breaths.
“sweet girl?” he asks, wanting to see you.
you move slowly, sluggishly, and simon can’t fault you for your reaction as he can still feel your legs shaking. teary eyes turn to him and simon couldn’t help but coo, letting go of your legs to climb towards you.
you track his movement, still hitching in breath, until he’s finally hovering over you. simon presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling, and rumbling a deep hum when your arms hook onto his shoulders for a loose hug.
“hi,” you say with a giggle after the silence settles. simon huffs a fond laugh, shifting so his lips trail soft kisses along your cheeks.
“hi,” simon replies, his lips moving lower, teasing touches from the cut of your jaw to the column of your throat. he settles there, burrowing with a deep breath, hot desire waning for something softer. for something slower.
“…y’like it?” you ask, sounding so conscious as though simon didn’t lose himself when eating you out, leaving his dick to throb painfully underneath his boxers.
“oh, princess,” he says with a breathy chuckle. he shifts again to see you. “i fuckin’ loved it.”
your eyes crinkle when you smile, and simon wonders if his lungs are even working with the way his breath constricts.
fuck, reality is settling – he’s truly missed you.
“thank you for such a darlin’ gift, baby,” simon murmurs, his lips hovering over yours.
you hum, already deaf to his words as you turned your focus to the ghosting touch of his lips instead. you tip your head up, whining when even that doesn’t make them meet.
aww, simon coos in his head. sweets wants a kiss.
so he finally gives it, his head angled to kiss you deeper. harder. teeth clack against each other before warm tongues tangle, and simon wonders if you can taste yourself on him. if you can taste the way he made you feel good.
your nails scratch his back, and he knows shallow welts will be there when he checks tomorrow. but for now, simon loses himself to the messy kiss – nipping your lips and, later, lapping at your folds.
because he’s not done with you yet. he needs to eat you out more. needs to see the way your pretty, jewelled pussy takes his tongue the same way you do with his cock.
oh, how you spoil him.
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i teeheed too much while writing this but then i got drunk so it kinda splintered away from what i envisioned 😭
tagging: @oddityinthesky @ghostsbimbo @kenz-ee @yannauauau @yaebaal @ivymarquis @liwooa @loonalockley @kariiiel
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emmyrosee · 12 days
Text
Can we talk about how rintaro probably swallows your engagement ring by accident?
Honestly? Okay listen… Do you think he swallows it? I think he swallows it.
Because like okay. Rintaro puts a ton of planning behind everything he does, he wants to make your engagement this massive scene out of a movie because you’re out of a movie; you swooped into his life and showed him the path he wants to be on, the one that always leads back to you.
But like. Why would everything not crumble around him each and every time he tries to work up the courage to finally pop that four word phrase?
It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy.
An engagement ring, propped on some frosting on the center of the cake, ready for you to scoop up and slip on and give him an excited yes and the world would clap and he’d get a Nobel prize or something for such an extravagant proposal.
Except. That doesn’t happen.
The first bite Rintaro takes, he shovels in his mouth nervously, and there’s a massive shock to his teeth when they clank down hard on the ring on his cake.
How he didn’t notice? How the waiter messed them up? He blames it on the waiter.
Him swallowing the ring..? Yeah no. That’s got him written all over it.
His nerves just got the best of him and sends the large diamond down his throat, eyes bulging out as he realizes. He chokes briefly, grabbing his wine and gulping it down to wash the jewelry down.
Uh oh.
“Baby?” You ask. “Something wrong?”
“…nope.”
The rest of dinner is silent, you trying desperately to make conversation and his mind going insane trying to process what to do next.
Your engagement ring, the object that completely envelops your love in a physical sense is floating in the acids of his stomach, and who knows what the next step in the plan is.
He dreads it.
The car ride is complete silence, you occasionally clearing your throat or sighing to try and strike a conversation, but Rin’s mind is on a complete other planet, trying to make a map of his next move and how to get the ring 1.) out of his body and 2.) to you.
Is he really going to give you a ring he ate? He can’t. That’s vile. But he can’t spend the money on another one, even if it is more than worth it to spend it on you, and-
“Rin,” you whisper, touching his thigh. “You just blew a red light.”
“Damn- I’m sorry,” he apologizes.
“Don’t be sorry… is everything alright?”
“Just fine.”
“Are you mad at me?”
His foot slams hard, hard on the breaks, causing commotion behind him as the wailing of car horns fills the air. “God, baby, no, of course not!”
“Then why have you been so quiet?” You ask sadly.
“I can’t tell you.” Out of embarrassment and stupidity, he thinks to himself.
You leave it at that. You go quiet again, and when he makes a move to rest his hand on your thigh, you turn away, and his whole heart sinks.
The rest of the ride home drags on. There’s no more attempts of noise, no more sighs or clearing of throats, only the roar of the engine for a few more miles until you get home. He barely gets the chance to park the car before you’re out and storming up the driveway, clearly upset with the situation. He sighs and follows you in, and you’ve hiked up the stairs to the bathroom. He winces at the slam of the door, and he’s quick to call osamu for advice.
Advice that the twin gives him around countless gawfs of unhelpful, judgmental laughter.
He tells Rintaro to calm down and stop being weird towards you- take a spoonful of laxatives mixed in with water and let the body “process” for as long as it needs to. Get you a new ring, trash the old one and mourn the loss of money after you two get engaged.
He sighs and ends the call, making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he keeps the medicine. You brush past him in a towel, refusing to acknowledge him or his presence with so much as a “hmph.”
The shower he takes alone is cold, his mind is loud and his heart is pounding and his stomach queases for more than a few reasons. How could he have messed this up so badly? It was supposed to be cute! Just flashy enough for him to flaunt you, but simple enough to not be messed up.
Yet he messed it up.
Rintaro dries himself and makes his way into the bedroom, where you’re already burrowed under the covers on your side of the bed. He throws on some form of pajama before making his way downstairs to make his laxative drink.
One tablespoon of laxative mixed with water, allow body to process for one day before repeating, let all powder dissolve before drinking- he follows every single one of the thorough instructions completely, and he starts to drink the concoction with a scowl of disgust.
The hell is this made out of?
“What’re you still doing up?” You ask, and he swallows the last of the laxative with a wince.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. Then, he sighs and turns to face you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know.
You’re still upset.
“Listen,” he begins, carding a massive hand through his hair. “About tonight. It was absolutely nothing you did. It was my fault, and my annoyance and attitude had nothing to do with you.”
“Okay,” you sigh, but there’s an unconvinced lilt in your voice.
“I wanted this to be a perfect night, I wanted it to go so well-“
“Rinnie?”
“And I’m sorry, about my silence in the restaurant,” he sniffles, big hands pressing against his face and rubbing roughly. “The chef was supposed to put it on our cakes and his little rat waiter messed it up, and-“
“Put what on our cakes?”
“YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!” He groans in complete agony. “Your ring! Fuck! I tried so hard to make the perfect proposal, and I just wanted it to be beautiful-“
“My… my ring?”
“Uh…. Yeah?”
“My engagement ring?”
Your bottom lip wobbles, and he feels like he’s going to upchuck every bit of food he’s ever eaten.
Though that may not be the worst thing at this point.
“You wanna marry me?” You wail, collapsing to your knees in excitement. He perks up slightly, slipping of his seat to join you on the floor.
“Of course I want to marry you,” he confesses. “God, I’ve… I’ve wanted to marry you for the past three years, I got the ring perfect four months ago.” He blinks out a line of tears to mimic yours, and you cup his cheeks in your trembling palms. “But every time I tried to propose, something went wrong, and I… I didn’t know how to do it anymore. I’m sorry baby…”
“Rintaro,” you say softly, chuckling around the your quivering voice. “I never needed a big proposal. Ever. All I ever want is for you to promise me we’ll be together. And that’s more than enough.”
His face softens before he lets a hand smack his face in obliviousness, disappointed in himself that he got so lost in trying to impress you that he almost didn’t.
“Put it on me!” You squeal, holding out your hand. He turns a scarlet red and looks away.
“I uh… I can’t.”
You deflate slightly, and he gives you an embarrassed smile. “Why not?” You whimper, emotionally fried from the rollercoaster he just put you on.
“I don’t have it.”
“What!”
“I mean, technically i do,” he says, gnawing his lip. “But I… uhm… I can’t give it to you yet. I uh… I need a few days. And… a few cleaners to look at it.” He gives you a shy chuckle and his toothy grin is mixed with frightened eyes, and your own widen. “The uhm… the ring was on the cake…”
Your hands clasp over your mouth, tears immediately drying and replacing with small, choked and stifled laughter.
“You didn’t,” you manage. He nods, uncomfortable. “Did… did you eat my ring, Rintaro?”
“It wasn’t my fault! Damn waiter gave us the wrong cakes!”
“AND YOU SWALLOWED IT?”
“I WAS NERVOUS, OKAY?”
“RINTARO!”
You two clutch each other on the cold kitchen floor as you laugh, heads knocking against each other as you steal kisses from between cackles.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says once you’ve both seemed to calm down, and he quickly pops on his feet to grab the bread on the counter. With the twist tie, he takes it off the bread and makes his way back to you. “Give me your hands.”
The tie only fits around the top part of your ring finger, and you sniffle softly at how silly and sweet this whole thing is.
“We’re gonna get married,” he says between an emotional wheeze. “And we’re going to grow old together, have our nine dogs and four cats.”
“No kids?”
“Ew gross.”
“Yeah, sure, as if you don’t bend to my every whim bro.” You shift slightly to rest your back against his chest, curling against his still sitting frame. “And our kids are going to love the Miyas-“
“Because you love the Miya’s. I have nothing to do with that.”
“As if Osamu’s not going to be your best man,” you scoff. He smirks and buries his face in your hair, listening to your words weave through his brain and calming him down from the disaster of a night.
Then, he hums, “you want to take my last name?” He asks, and you give him a small swat on the leg. “What! Im just asking!”
“Of course I’m going to take your last name,” you say, turning your head up to face him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, tearing up again when you nod.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
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explorevenus · 29 days
Text
doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 3.6k
description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.
tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex
a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
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You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 
It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.
All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.
You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.
But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 
You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.
And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.
Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.
Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 
Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.
If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.
You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.
Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse
You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.
With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 
At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.
Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.
All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.
You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.
He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.
Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.
“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.
Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.
Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”
He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 
Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”
That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.
He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.
Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.
The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.
He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.
You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.
“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.
“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”
You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.
Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”
Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.
You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.
Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.
The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.
But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.
Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.
He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.
Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.
He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.
“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”
Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.
Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.
Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.
Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.
Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”
In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.
Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.
Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.
Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.
As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 
“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”
Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.
Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.
You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.
You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.
Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.
Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.
“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.
“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”
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snowsinterlude · 5 months
Text
Remember The Time.
(coriolanus snow x reader)
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summary: there was a time where that boy craved and wanted love more than power. and you remembered it better than he did.
c.w: songfic, young president snow, angst, wife!reader, mentions to academy times, mentions to sex, cheating, pregnancy
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back when you both were seventeen, back when he was poorer than the district people, who were rich when it comes to love, coriolanus had one person who was always there for him; you.
beautiful, dazzling, shining you. with your shining eyes, your perfume, your way of walking and talking and going as far as to making him fall in love with you. yes, the now president of panem, who was colder than the own snow, who always landed on top, who never looked up to anyone, was once a time ago, a boy. an innocent, craving love boy.
when we were young and innocent.
he got your hand tangled on his, his eyes gleaming and shining at the sight of your much smaller hand on his. he was so cute there. everything seemed to be sugar coated and honeyed up; the hand-made gifts, the flowers he handed you, the way he played with your hair and braided it oh so nicely.
everything was a memory now. nothing but something that you'd remember until you had something like amnesia or alzheimer when you were older.
"y/n!" he called, walking to your direction. athletically skinny, tall, blonde. the perfect depiction of a pretty boy.
he reached for you, his hand reaching for yours, his lips curling into a smile to you, his eyes couldn't seem to leave you, your eyes, your figure, everything in you was like a diamond for him.
carefully, he placed a daisy flower behind your ear, trying to get it right, trying to put it in the right position.
"coryo," you smiled at him, so sweetly that he thought he would lose his teeth. he thanked god he didn’t. "how have you been?"
"fine. better now. saw this flower yesterday, it reminded me of you." he said, fingers laced on yours.
he was too sweet when he was with you. sweet like white chocolate, one only you could taste, for when it comes to others he was as venomous as a snake.
🌼
rotting in your room, you heard the window; a rock being thrown in it. you opened the quicker you could- you just had to yell for that person to stop throwing rock at your window. they are expensive.
you were met with his eyes. looking at you as if you were a jewel. staring back at you as if there's nothing prettier than you in a nightdress or you on a general basis
you quickly forgot the face you were doing; the one that showed displeasure now showed love, something you had in stock for him.
"coryo." you said, seeing him climbing to your window. he leaned in it.
"is ir a bad timing?" he asked, and you couldn't have a better answer for it than a roll of your eyes.
"of course! gosh, it's snowing out there-"
"i'm a snow."
"you're an human being." you said, helping him in and closing the door to your room. your dad thought of coriolanus as the one who would lead you down the wrong path. he seemed to feel it in his bones, saying he looks poor or anything like it. "you should be at your house! what would i do if you get a cold?"
his hands travelled to your waist, a devious grin played on his lips as he kissed your shoulder.
"warm me up?" he proposed, making you chuckle, but then you were on his lap, kissing him in a way that would keep him warm for days and days, fucking him until his body was as hot as the summer, loving him until flowers blossomed and died.
you did, in fact, warmed him up. so many times that it would be a joke to say that he was cold- physically, at least.
with that being said, it was a surprise to you when he came back from district 12- he had changed. he had another girl's perfume on him.
then you remembered her. you met her once. lucy gray baird. of course, neither did you and neither did coriolanus told her you were engaged.
engaged. such a strong word- and at the same time, weak when it comes to flesh.
back in the spring.
"you cheated on me." you said, trying to keep yourself calm- you couldn't. your heart was too loud, your poor lungs didn't seem to be functioning anymore- everything seemed loud to you. "with her. with lucy- god, and she didn't even knew! where is she?!"
"i don't- y/n, listen, i-"
"-'i' what? you didn't cheat? you weren't with her? you were supposed to be at district 8! how come you were on 12?!"
he kept quiet. he didn’t had an answer other than 'i didn’t cheat', did he? of course not.
"i love you," he said. "i love you, y/n."
"you don't. you never did. you don't know what love feels like- you don't know how it is." he did. he did know how it was and felt. each thump of his heart was beating out of his ribcage with the despair of losing you.
with that being clear, it didn't took much time for him to be president.
soon enough, you both were married.
🌼
it's not like you forgave him. you didn't. your father married you off to him after he won the elections. did you love him? god, of course you did. but not like before. never like before. you still had hope that he would be there. that your lovely boy would still be there, bouquet in his hand, hands finding yours in the secrecy of the darkest places of the academy; but that boy wasn't anywhere to be found.
instead, there was a man, a ruthless, cruel, cold-hearted man who never looked up to anyone. who never looked directly into your eyes, but past them.
sitting by his side, cutting the steak on your plate, everything was just as silent as in a funeral until you spoke, finally.
"coriolanus." you called. "do you remember the time we fell in love?"
quiet.
you kept going. "we would be together all times, talking about how highbottom hated you. we would skip classes saying we were sick when we would actually hang out."
he kept quiet.
"you would come to my window at least three times per month, always promising things and handing me flowers." you said.
quiet, quiet, quiet. quiet. you decided to be more straightforward this time.
"then we would warm ourselves up. you would fuck me and ask for my hand in marriage and say you would make me the happiest woman alive." you said.
"what do you want?" he asked, finally.
"i'm pregnant." you hear his fork fall to his plate. "i know you don't love me and i am not going to beg for your love. but i want to raise this child with love. and if we'll have to pretend we like eachother and love eachother then i am okay with it."
he kept quiet, again. and you kept going, without knowing about the ache of his heart; both of happiness and mourn. mourn, because he knew you didn't love him anymore. he knew that if it wasn't for the baby forming on your body you would run away from him.
"i don't want this child to be depressed nor to have the knowledge of how we don't like eachother." you said. "i want this child to be happy."
he was almost gagging. your eyes were pooling up on tears you didn't want to cry, your voice cracking up.
"okay." he said. there was not a better answer for that than this.
when dinner was over, you both went separate ways; he would go to his office, you would go to your chambers.
no one would know about the heartbreak of the other.
no one would hear nor see the tears rolling down your faces; the redness, the runny nose, the sobs. they would never be heard.
and everything between both that was once a happy memory, was nothing but a photo in your memories. a happy painting portraying a couple that was yet to be separated.
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donatellawritings · 3 months
Note
please some toxic, possessive, and straight up insane rafe 🥲
tee-hee … my favorite, sorry if it’s short!
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rafe cameron was and will always be possessive of you, you were his girl, and his alone. in recent times, he’d found different outlets when it came to getting his blistering jealous streak under control. when he was of a sound mind, he’d simply put you in check — whispering low warnings into your ear, or lightly nudging the side of your chin with his knuckle. you were pretty good at keep rafe down to earth, enough to where he’d mentally check out of a situation, instead of sending his eager fist into someone’s jaw. again, this was when rafe was of a sound sober mind. once cocaine and alcohol viciously coursed their way through rafe’s veins, he became an exhilaratingly impulsive decision-maker, much to your dismay. it was difficult to bring rafe down from his peaking highs of anger, but you knew that it was simply his insecurities being pushed to the forefront.
you were sat on the couch, your tired doe eyes focused on the trashy reality show you’d been engrossed in for the evening — your swollen lips were slightly parted as you subconsciously held your thumbnail between your teeth, your shiny blown out hair cascading down your shoulder blades as you curled into the couch wearing rafe’s oversized crewneck and lace pink panties that failed to cover the curve of your plush ass. you lazily brought your thumb from between your teeth, and down to your gifted chain as you rolled the diamond ‘R’ initial between your thumb and index finger. your wispy lashes began to slowly blink together as you sighed sleepily, letting out a short yawn as the front door could be heard opening, then slamming closed.
“wh-where’s my pretty girl?” rafe’s slurred voice boomed through the foyer, causing your eyes to open as you flinched out of your dozed off state. an excited gasp left your lips as you crane your head back, holding your arms open with a cheesy grin. rafe’s bloodshot baby blues widened with an exaggerated excitement as he stumbled towards you, “there she is — m’pretty princess, hi baby,” he slurred, earning a small laugh from you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a loud and wet smack of a kiss to his dry lips.
pecking his lips, once more, your threaded eyebrows furrowed in confusion as rafe let out a strained sigh, absentmindedly wrapping his hand around the base of your throat. you were used to rafe’s touchy behavior, so you breathed out a small laugh, “y’okay, papi?” you smiled, your heartbeat racing a bit quicker as rafe leaned his forehead against your chest, maintaining his hold on you. rafe remained in this position for a beat, before dragging his head up, allowing your contrasting gazes to meet. his blown pupils took up a large portion of his usually bright blues, his eyes glazed over as he dropped to a knee before you.
rafe’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find the perfect words, his hand circling around his head as he forced out a chuckle, “y’know, m’gonna make you my wife, one day, a-and m’gonna take care of you — i’ll give you the whole fuckin’ world, mama,” he ranted, his hand slightly tightening around your throat as he became lost in his own rant. rafe nodded to himself, tapping his chest as he continued, “s’gonna be you and me — i won’t le-let them take you from me,” he cried, his eyes welled with hot tears. you remained silent, leaning forward in an attempt to cradle rafe’s face as he pushed you back down by your neck.
your heart thumped against your chest as rafe suddenly stood on his feet, both of his arms falling at his sides as you took the opportunity to stand in front of him. your small hands gently grabbed his face as your bright eyes search his — you knew that he was both drunk and high, he could barely even look at you straight. “what’s going on? nobody’s taking me from you, rafey,” you cooed with a soft smile, watching as rafe fumbled with the waistband of his belted slacks, your smile falling to a frown as he revealed his gun.
“rafe—”
rafe brought the gun to his lips as he shushed you, a daze smile tugging on his mouth as he brought his free hand to your shoulder, “i’d fuckin’ kill for you, princess — swear, i’d do it and it wouldn’t even bother me,” he mumbled, his lowly hung eyes not missing the way you froze still. your pretty little pout quivered with impending cries, causing rafe’s gaze to widen with dramatized concern, “no-no, don’t be scared, m’the one who s’gonna protect you, baby — why-why are you fuckin’ cryin’?!” rafe rambled, his pathetic whines turning into a deep scream as he forced his forehead to smush against yours. a soft cry seeped through your lips as rafe shook his head furiously.
“you’re scaring me, papi,” you squeaked.
rafe ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving as he pulled away from you, lightly knocking the butt of the gym against his head. tears streamed down his structured cheekbones as he gestured towards you with a loud cry, “i just wanna protect you, baby,” he sobbed, leaving you an anxious mess as your slapped your hand over your mouth. rafe let out another blubbering cry, the sound of your name leaving his lips causing your heart to ache as he lowered himself to the flower, holding his head in his hands.
you carefully lowered yourself to the floor as you crawled over to your boyfriend, softly tapping your delicate fingertip against his knee, “rafe, please,” you whispered, leaning on your knees as rafe brought his hand to the back of your head, holding you in place by your hair.
your swollen lips remained slightly parted as rafe sighed, “do y’love me, princess?” he questioned, his head cocked to the side as you nodded, tears rolling down your puffy cherub cheeks, “say it,” he muttered.
“i love you,” you spoke sincerely.
rafe nodded wordlessly, releasing your hair from his grip as you took the chance to climb onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he secured an arm around your back, and one around your neck. “no more cryin’, mama, m’gonna keep you safe,” he reassured, rubbing his gun clad hand up and down your back.
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prettyflyforawhitelie · 3 months
Text
Of Course It's You. It's Always You. - Alastor x Reader
Pairing: Alastor x Y/N
Word Count: 1103
Warnings: Slight Injuries, but nothing major :)
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It happened again. Alastor had gone a bit too far when fighting off the many fiends that tried to ransack the hotel. This time it was some loan sharks that had come to hunt down who you had thought was the hotel’s newest resident, Mimzy. Sometimes you wondered why Alastor, a man known for only ever paying mind to his own flights of fancies and rarely ever entertaining anybody else lest it was to gain something for himself, was so passionate about this redemption project of Charlie’s. There wasn’t much time to ponder this, though, as Alastor had burst into your room bruised, exasperated, and covered in blood (was it his? you’d never know). You had never seen him this… defeated. He still wore his trademark smile, but something seemed off. It was his eyes. 
Ever since you became a resident at this hotel, you had grown close to Alastor. He was just so… enthralling. Interesting. You hadn’t asked why he smiles so much, but instead learned how to read his eyes. And right now, his eyes needed help. You urged him to come to your floor and he sat down, gasping as you immediately pulled out your medical kit and applied alcohol to his bite wounds. Man, they weren’t joking when they said those loan sharks had the sharpest teeth out there. For the first time ever, you were thankful that Charlie kept a stocked cabinet of essentials in every room, but more than that, you were surprised that anything could even get close enough to Alastor to hurt him like this. As you bandaged his wounds and filled them with gauze to prevent further bleeding, you slowly unbuttoned his ripped shirt only to be met with equally ripped skin beneath it.
“Oh, Satan”
you say while quickly using the few remaining gauzes you had. He hadn’t said a word this entire time, only wincing when you pressed the bandages against his wounds. Without even saying a word, this was the most vulnerable you had ever seen the Radio Demon. 
As both of your adrenalines died down, you faced him on the floor and asked him what happened.
“I’ve simply never seen anything like it before.” he said.
“They- They had silver teeth- made of Carmine angelic metal.”
While this seems rather insignificant, angelic weapons are the only thing that can kill Earth-born sinners. These scratches were not just inconvenient for the all-powerful Radio Demon, but lethal.
“Alastor… you need to be more careful. We could have lost you. Charlie IS the princess of Hell, you don't have to fight all of her battles for her.” you say.
Alastor’s voice rises.
“Y/N. You don't understand. I- I have to protect this hotel. This is larger than you could ever understand.”
For a second, you swear you could hear his radio voice falter slightly. You sigh in defeat. He could be so stubborn sometimes. As you lean your head against the leg of your bed, you repeat under your breath,
“I could have lost you.”
You put your face into your hands. 
You had been attracted to Alastor ever since you started to get to know him. It was impossible not to. He was such a gentleman… such a thing could not be found just anywhere in Hell. And this man, this diamond among the rough, was almost torn away from you and your chosen family by some lousy loan sharks.
“What was that, Darling?” He broke the silence.
You lift your head off of your hands, slightly embarrassed that he heard you.
“Uh, nothing.”
You felt his hand on your arm, and slightly flinched. Alastor didn't seem like one who was very keen on physical touch, especially initiating it. You glanced into his eyes.
“Darling, don't dismiss yourself. When I ask you a question, answer it.”
You blushed slightly, looking at the distant wall to avoid eye contact.
“I said that I almost lost you. I just dont think I would be able to bear your absence. You- you have helped me see that there can be things worth fighting for, even in eternal damnation.”
Did you just - did you just say that shit out loud?!? Oh, that was corny as fuck, theres no way he’s staying in this room with you after that. Instead of appealing to your inner monologue and leaving, his hand met your face, possibly the gentlest touch you've ever felt.
“Darling, I’ve never once thought that a belle like you could ever think those things about a demon like me. I am truly honored to be a thought in your mind, and even so, a positive one. Why haven't you told me this sooner?”
Did you hear that right? Alastor, THE Radio Demon, just heard you confess your feelings for him… and he didn’t end your life right then and there? You stammered,
“I, um… uh,”
Alastor took your hand into his own, rubbing it with his thumb reassuring me.
“I can sense your anxiety, love. I assure you, you of all people do not have to fear me.” he calmly says.
“Only in my worst nightmares would I ever do anything to cause you harm. Despite my constant efforts to distance myself from you all in efforts to best serve this hotel, you have never faltered in your adamant spirit to just… know me. I know that it is not an effort to manipulate me, as you have not once asked me for anything in return for your constant care.”
As he finishes, you say, “How could I? You have done so much for us, for me, the least I can do is offer you somebody to confide in. Somebody that you can love without ever wondering if this love is reciprocated.”
The two of you sat in silence, staring at the red, wallpaper-plastered wall in front of you, his hand remaining on yours. You didn’t know if what you had said about love was a bit too far, but glancing over at Alastor gave you your answer. His regularly toothy grin was replaced by a small smile, a genuine smile. He moves himself closer to you to remove the distance between your two bodies and slowly guides your head to rest on his shoulder. This gentleness was refreshing. Just two souls that know the same struggle relinquishing in each other’s presence.
“Alastor?” you ask.
“Yes, my Darling?”
“That thing I said, about love… was that too much?”
He chuckled in reply as he leaned his head on yours. “Of course not, my love. Why do you think I came to you of all people?”
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
Text
“..smile for me, daddy..”
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you take quite the liking to eren’s newest piece of jewelry!
oral sex (p + a eating), spit play, hair pulling, fingering, squirting, need I say more?
I’ve written this trope before but I’m doing it again because why not?! I can’t get it out of my head and I am pushing this agenda. (Also trying to ease back into writing because I’ve been bullshitting.)
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“What you think, my man? How ya’ like it?”
“..yeah, this is the one, dude..definitely the one..”
stood before the counter at Schiaparelli Jewelers, brandishing a mirror in one hand as the the other casually stroked over his chin, Eren’s lips curled into that of quite the smirk; in turn, refracting off of the light..to say that he was satisfied with the result of his latest commission, would be a very gross understatement. Schiaparelli’s had become a staple in Miami's Design District. A multi-generational business with a reputation that preceded them. With infamy rivaled next to Johnny Dang. Having catered to celebrities and the city’s elite alike, they curated the most beautiful pieces with the utmost care. Thus, earning them millions and a recurring clientele. Among those were the Underground God himself and seasoned musical maestro, EJ the Don. Who had gotten everything from his first chain to the wedding ring he placed on his beloved (y/n)’s finger a year prior. VVS diamonds glistened from the bottom row of his already perfectly aligned teeth as he examined the new grill he had just acquired. A spur of the moment decision he’d made on impulse while you were away on another modeling trip. The custom mold wrapped his entire bottom and encapsulated his canines with red stones. It was absolutely beautiful and although the piece had set him back roughly fifteen thousand, it was well worth it and deserved in his opinion! Having just been nominated for two writing awards and a third for album of the year. Awards season was approaching and although it wasn’t among his priorities to attend, it was still a feat worth celebrating. Not to mention, it was quite the confidence boost as well. He wasn’t one to base his self worth in extravagant jewelry or expensive clothes, but he was certainly feeling quite good about himself in these. He loved the way they looked against his lips and how they complimented his teeth.
dapping up the jeweler, EJ thanked the man once more and proceeded to give him quite the hefty payment for his services..of course, self gratification wasn’t the only reason he had gone and copped this new piece for his collection. He was actually hoping to get a little something more out of the deal..
“That’s what I like to hear, my man! Listen, how do you think the missus will react? Think she’ll like ‘em?”
a question he was certain he’d find out the answer to as you had just shot him a text, saying that you’d made it home and of course..to hurry back to you! Not a moment too soon, in his opinion. He’d spent all week longing to see you again and what better way to greet you than with a surprise like this?
“..I guess we’ll find out soon enough..”
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“Mmph…Rennnnn, baeee! Stop—oh my gosh…”
the words spilling out in a trail of whiny huffs being drawn forth from your mouth. Among many other lewd sounds leaving you at the moment. Just as he had expected, your reaction was one he could’ve spotted from a mile away..the second Eren made it back home through the door, (y/n) came rushing him as you leaped forth into his arms. It didn’t take long after spinning you around with an array of kisses for you to spot them..the faint glint from his mouth as you slowly pecked at it. It was when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, did you reveal his little secret. He could tell immediately from the glare on your face, just what you thought of it. That was also apparent by your sudden shift in demeanor..going from subtle, flirtatious kissing to full blown, unadulterated lust. He had no interest in setting you to your feet or halting your advances, especially when you continued to swirl your tongue around his own and continue filling his head with compliments. From how sexy he looked with them and how badly you desired to wet them up! “Yeah? I’m glad you like them, baby.” That was to say the least. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest and once he heard your opinions, he no longer felt any reservations about his purchase! So fast forward, and the two of you moved your little party to the downstairs game room, where he’d often reside on his days off. You’d find yourself on the leather couch in the corner, legs spread to either side as he feasted at your center. Nearly seven days had passed since you’d seen one another in person and nearly ten since you’d had any physical touch so it was obvious what was on either of your minds. Inked up fingers laced around your throat in an effort to make certain your eyes never shifted from his. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but to glare down at him with tears and lust teeming at your waterline. A finger slid between your lips as your husband delicately flicked that tongue around your clit..and each time, he’d make certain to flash you a toothy grin. In which you’d catch those sparkling diamonds littering his mouth.
“You sure you want me to stop, baby? I mean..you were the one begging me to make you come in my mouth.” Prompting both of you to burst into laughter. He knew that it was only because you were so close to your peak. Apparent by the creamy secretions leaking down his chin and staining that silver. How he craved your essence, your flavor and the feeling of you dripping onto his tongue. How good it felt to hear your moans coagulating with the sounds of his loud slurping, erupting throughout the room. Those white toes resting atop his bare shoulder blades, curled up at the slightest brush of your little bud. “I-I..fuck, it just feels so good, baby. Please..keep going.” (Y/N) uttering with the heave of your chest, rising and falling at a rapid rate as you tried to control your breathing.
“That’s what I thought..now lay your pretty ass back and lemme take care of you..lemme eat this pussy. Missed you so bad..”
with that, he’d continue his ascent into your soaking cunt. Exploring every fold, crevice and every delectable part of his beautiful wife. It may have been his favorite pastime if he were being completely honest…eating you until he brought you to the brink of tears and ecstasy. There was something so satisfying about it. Especially with the euphoric feeling of those juices making contact with his mouthpiece. Your fingertips would run underneath his chin and stroke the side of his face as his own dug into the thick flesh of your thighs..kneading slowly and keeping you in place. “Fuck…you look so sexy. Shit..” tossing your head back and releasing another breathy giggle from the overstimulating pleasure. “..swear you gon’ make me come, daddy..right there.” Guiding him along with your hand and those loud whimpers. That sundress that wrapped your body was shuffled down to your tummy as it bunched up underneath your breasts. You’d alternate between them and those dark tresses of his, not entirely sure what to do with yourself as you were unraveling.
“Don’t tease me now, princess. I need all of that..please..”
only taking a breath momentarily to work a couple digits inside of that hole as it spasmed on the air. He knew you needed to be filled but for now, he wanted to continue his feast..in more ways than one. As he parted your legs even further and continued working those digits in and out, Eren tugged you towards him. The only time he’d become forceful, as to keep you restrained. Because whilst you were focusing on the gentle thrust of his fingers in your pussy, his tongue would snake south to your puckering hole. Where the tip prodded at it and he’d flick around until you were trembling. Pleasure only increased tenfold when you pinched at those sensitive nipples. You could barely contain yourself and it was only a matter of time before he’d be getting that sweet release. He’d squeeze at your plump asscheeks as he switched between your entrances. Lobbing each hole with a very generous amount of spit. Soft whimpers arose from your throat and even hitched but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed that body to fall apart within his grasp and to react only the way he could make it happen.
“Come on, gorgeous. Let me have it. You wanna come, don’t you?”
that toothy smirk appeared yet again along with a high pitched coo. It never fails to make you melt..with the nod of your head, you’d shake vehemently, just grasping at anything to feign off the swelling in the pit of your stomach. One that was only mere seconds from exploding.
“Aw, then let it out. Do what you said you would earlier..or you gon’ hold back on me?” Teasing as he continued to push up into your most sensitive spot. And it didn’t take long until you were exploding all over the couch and of course, those silver slugs lining your man’s mouth. “Fuck! Fuck!—“ “..thereeee we go!” (Y/N) released a shroud of juices that spilled onto the cushions and Eren let his tongue wag as he lapped up every single drop..those fingers sopping with your creaminess. Which he’d let you slurp off once you were able to compose yourself.
“Shit!..Kiss me..” whining as you tugged him up by his chain and into your grasp. Shoving that tongue back between his lips and tasting the remnants of yourself against those grills. Cupping his face between your palms, you’d pull away from each other to meet gazes once more. That’s when he’d smile for you once again and you’d swoon for him all over again.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to wear those more..like all the time.”
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Text
Ryunosuke Akutagawa having to kiss you to keep his cover.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Synopsis: The two of you need to pretend to be married for a mission, and when your cover was almost blown, Akutagawa could do nothing but press you to a wall and kiss you.
(Initially, this had been supposed to be for multiple characters but I got carried away…lmao… let me know if I should do other BSD men with this trope, and if yes, which ones)
Warning: NSFW
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You and Akutagawa sat in silence in the sleek limousine, the thump of the wheels on the road the only noise. You picked at your expensive dress, making sure the, excessively long, slit in your skirt did not reveal anything you did not want to reveal. As you adjusted the black fabric, your eyes could not help but catch the fake wedding ring that sat on your finger. Well, fake as in you weren’t married, not fake diamonds. The glittering diamonds that resembled shards of heaven were very, very real.
Akutagawa was sitting next to you, trying to press himself against the side door to touch your body as little as possible. His elegant suit had made you stare when you saw him before stepping into the car: he almost never wore anything like that. He was wearing a similar wedding ring around his finger.
You two had been chosen last minute to pretend to be a married couple to sneak into the house of a rival boss to gather some information. The party he was hosting for his daughter’s engagement was the perfect excuse. Usually, other people would be chosen, and with more preparation, but a mishap had occurred suddenly and you had been thrown headfirst in the mission. You were reading the paper with your backstory while getting ready, memorizing that you two had met during an economics course at the Yokohama university and all the surrounding unnecessary details, just in case anyone asked.
The car rolled to a stop, and Akutagawa slid you a look, before stiffly taking your hand in his and placing it on his arm. “Let’s go, (Y/N).” He murmured, opening the door. You two stepped out, immediately feeling the gaze of the rest of the party-goers around you.
Nervously, you leaned against Akutagawa as you walked up the stairs. The eyes of the other couples walking alongside you did not help your already unstable feet in the heels. You almost tripped on the red fabric that had been delicately placed on the marble steps, but Akutagawa stabilized you by placing a warm hand on your waist.
You stepped inside the ballroom, and quietly gasped in shock: the room was breathtaking, carved windows with encrusted gold decorations, painted ceilings and mosaics on the ground. “It’s gorgeous,” you whispered, and Akutagawa nodded silently by your side.
You threw him a glance, elbowing him in the gut discreetly. He frowned at you. “You need to look more in love with me, Akutagawa and not stand there as if you were forced to be here.” You whispered, speaking through gritted teeth while a smile adorned your lips. The man next to you nodded, trying to subtly lean into you, pretending to search for your body warmth.
Truth be told, he was actually wanted to do so, holding himself back because he feared he would accidentally reveal something to himself he had tried to keep hidden: his heart thumped a little louder when you were around.
“Let’s get some champagne,” He murmured, starting to lead you to table. Right before you managed to secure to glasses for the both of you, a couple bumped into you, pushing you in Akutagawa’s unsuspecting arms. He froze, before he remembered he was supposed to be married to you. The couple had also clearly wanted to grab some champagne.
“Oh dear! I apologize!” The man said.
“Oh, no worries!” You reassured, grabbing two flutes and handing one to Akutagawa, almost propelling yourself out of his arms.
The man’s wife had been looking at your hand as it delicately held the expensive flutes, immediately grabbing it to observe the ring. “Oh, darling! This is a gorgeous ring!” She said, inspecting it.
“Oh, thank you.” You blushed, looking at Akutagawa with a shade of red on your cheeks.
“I chose one that matched her eyes,” Akutagawa spoke, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. Your heart fluttered, and the couple could not help but swoon at the two of you.
You four talked for a few more minutes; well, you talked to the couple and Akutagawa simply stood next to you, nodding or echoing your words.
You then went your separate ways, and you and Akutagawa knew you needed to find the information. The two of you quickly slid to a more secluded area, knowing from the blue prints of the building that the owner’s office was directly above you, and you just needed to climb the stairs unseen.
“Let’s do this,” Akutagawa said, heading towards the stairs after you two had waited for a few minutes, making sure no distant echoes of steps reached you. You followed, the tapestry on the steps muffling the sound of your heels.
As the two of you were exactly halfway up the stairs, you heard movement coming from the office, and some shadows peeked from underneath the illuminated door, projecting eerie shadows on the wall behind you.
Akutagawa, who had been in front of you, noticed first. “Back! Back!” He hissed, and you spun around, starting to run down the stairs. But the staircase was so long that the door opened before you guys could reach all the way down. You only heard the creek of the wood, neither you or the people could see one another, since the staircase curved to the left. But you and Akutagawa had nowhere to hide.
You two shared a terrified gaze, knowing what to do: pushed by Mori, the two of you had agreed on various ways to escape uncomfortable situations such as these, and one of them, as cliché as it sounded, was to pretend to make out. Akutagawa had argued initially, and had only agreed when Mori had uttered his name quietly, the weight of his control hidden behind the single word.
You pressed yourself against the wall, letting the spaghetti straps of your dress slide down your shoulders. Akutagawa loosened his bow tie, and unbuttoned a few of the first buttons of his shirt, clearly hating every minute. You gulped as his pale skin shone in the moonlight. He then approached you, yanking your leg out from the slit, gripping your thigh with his fingers. You flinched, suppressing the real moan that threatened to escape your mouth.
“Sorry,” he whispered in your ear, before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss initially had been just a peck, but both of you knew you needed to be more convincing if you wanted it to be true.
Akutagawa pulled back, before diving in with all his passion, secretly letting go of all the feelings he had been hiding for quite some time. The kiss turned heated, and soon, the hand that hadn’t been resting on your thigh, moved to your jaw, holding you in place as he dared to slide his tongue into yours. Your lipstick was smudged everywhere, and the whimpers that tumbled from your lips soon became real.
The two barely noticed the steps that had been approaching you, only breaking away from your kiss when someone cleared their throat next to you. You two broke apart, a string of saliva connecting your lips. It almost looked like crystal in the moonlight.
Your chest was heaving, pressing against Akutagawa’s with every shaky breath. Your fake husband’s eyes were wide, and your lipstick had smeared all over his face. Your unfocused gaze slowly zoned on the men that had “caught you”, and you almost felt your heart rumble out of your chest when you tumble out of your chest: it was the owner of the building, the one you had to steal information from, and a few of his most trusted men.
“Ah, young love.” He called, bringing his cigar to your lips. “Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that this area is restricted to authorized personal only.”
You tried speaking, but your words kept freezing in your throat. Akutagawa took the lead. “I am deeply sorry…I lost control. We’re…newlyweds,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically loud.
You leaned against the wall, barely registering what happened, only smelling and remembering Akutagawa pressed against you. You hazily watched as Akutagawa talked to the men, seemingly excusing himself. You closed your eyes, dazed, opening them to find only Akutagawa there, standing in front of you.
“Where..where did they go?” You asked, your voice shaky.
“I told them we would leave right away, simply needing to readjust our clothes.” He grumbled. “This is our chance.”
You nodded, trying to push yourself off the wall, but Akutagawa’s hand on your wrist stopped you. “Wait here. I’m going to make this quick. I’ll come back. And we’re talking.” He said, his dark eyes staring into your soul.
You tried protesting but your whispers were tears in a rainfall, and Akutagawa scampered up the stairs, and you slowly flopped down to the ground. Your eyes widened when you closed your legs: no, it couldn’t be…
You quickly eyed your surroundings, seeing only shadows hiding in the forgotten corners. You rapidly shoved your fingers underneath your skirt and between your legs, slipping one finger inside you. You slapped a hand on your mouth, half in shock, and half to cover the moan that was about to pour out of your swollen lips. Akutagawa had kissed you for just a few minutes, and had managed to make you soaking wet.
You leaned your head against the wall, angrily wondering why you had had to get a crush on the most cold-hearted person in the port mafia.
Akutagawa appeared next to you suddenly, his face half in the shadows, rendering his eyes even more shrouded in mystery. Without talking, he grabbed your hand, starting to walk hastily towards the exit. You knew he had probably snapped pictures of whatever you guys needed, and had slipped out of there as quickly as his feet could carry him, leaving behind only his cologne as a testament of his presence.
The two of you walked down the steps you had used to get in, and once again, your stiletto got caught in red fabric. Akutagawa seemed to know that it would happen, and already had his hand firmly pressed on your hip.
The two of you glided down the Yokohama alleyways, resembling living fragments of memories that littered all Yokohama. The minute you stepped into Port Mafia territory, the darkness around you felt much safer, more welcoming, and the two of you slowed down your steps, slightly more relaxed.
“Did you get everything—”
Before you could finish, Akutagawa had pressed you against the wall in a forgotten alley, his eyes so dark they resembled a moonless night. He was unusually close, his breath caressing your lips with fragility.
“What did that kiss mean to you?” Akutagawa croaked.
“What?” Your words were unsure, unclear, begging anything or anyone to help you understand what was happening.
“What. Did. That. Kiss. Mean. To. You. (Y/N).” He asked again, his voice sharper, and his eyes slightly darker.
And suddenly, you understood everything, as if the moon had sent a star to whisper a hint in your ear. You could feel Akutagawa’s heart beating, his chest pressed so close to yours. His eyes weren’t dark becasue of anger, but because of fear. He was scared. Scared that you did not feel his same way.
You reached up a hand to graze his cheek, and Akutagawa flinched, already imagining that you were about to let him down kindly. You were far too perfect for him, after all. But his downward spiral was interrupted by your soft voice, a melody he would recognize even in hell itself.
“Everything, Akutagawa. It meant everything.”
You waited, staring deep into his eyes, feeling the pressure of the darkness surround you. You inhaled sharply when you saw Akutagawa’s eyes lighten, before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He timidly pressed against your body, delicately, almost afraid to hurt you. He pulled back to see your reaction, and when he saw you lick your lips, hoping to taste any drops he had left behind, his whole restraint crumbled to the ground.
Akutagawa passionately pressed himself against you, his lips crashing down on yours with fervor. Your two bodies were so close you could feel everything. Akutagawa almost went crazy when he felt your breasts against his chest. Your arms clasped his shoulders, trying to hold him even closer. Your lungs were burning, but you didn’t care, threading your hands in his locks, whimpering in pleasure when he rolled his hips against you.
“(Y/N)…if, if we continue I won’t be able to stop,” he whispered in your ear, his hands gliding down to your waist.
You shook your head as quickly as you could, your perfect hairstyle slowly giving in to the emotions of the night. “I don’t want you to stop.”
That’s all that Akutagawa needed to hear. Without wasting a minute, he yanked down your spaghetti straps, uncovering your breasts to his eyes. His hands reached to grope them, while his lips attacked your neck, sucking a hickey on it, claiming you as his. Your spread legs had made the slit in your dress expose your soaking core, and Akutagawa used that to his advantage, pressing his hips against you.
Both of you reeled in pleasure when his hard dick pressed against your sopping heat. You gripped his shoulder, while he held your hips, the two of you stopped kissing for a second, starting to dry hump each other. Akutagawa lifted your thigh, wrapping it around his waist, making his clothed tip rub against your already swollen clit.
You whimpered his own name in his ears, and he had to still your hips to prevent from cumming on the spot.
“(Y/N), I need to fuck you, right now.” Akutagawa slurred, his words mixing together from his lust.
“Please! Please do it!” You begged, trying to spread your legs even further, but the fabric of your dress stopped you. Akutagawa, noticing your struggle, used Rashomon to rip your dress further from the slit. You gasped, impossibly feeling even more aroused. “Akutagawa! That dress was expensive!”
“I’ll buy you ten more.” He grunted, caressing your thighs. He moaned your name when he realized you had soaked through your panties. He yanked your frilly underwear from you, and stuffing them in his pocket. He blew on his fingers to warm them, before shoving one, and then the other inside you, grunting at your tightness.
“Oh my god, you’re so wet.” Akutagawa almost whimpered, but he managed to control his tone. You threw your head back, when he touched your g-spot, falling forward against his shoulder. Akutagawa fingered you for a few minutes, making sure you were stretched out for him, giving one simple lick to your nipple as a shy tease. He had not meant to make you orgasm, but when you gripped his shoulder tightly, almost screaming his name, he realized what had happened. Your fucked out gaze went directly to his dick, making him leak precum.
After you had come down, Akutagawa did not weight to unbuckle his belt, appreciating your helping hands. You glanced down at his cock when he freed it, feeling yourself gush in anticipation at how gorgeous it looked, red tip and all. Akutagawa gripped his base, aligning himself with your entrance. He looked up at you, making sure everything was fine. His white hair almost glittered in the moonlight, and you could not help but feel your heart beat excitedly as you nodded affirmatively, telling him everything was fine.
With your reassuring gaze warming his chest, Akutagawa pressed his tip inside you. Both of you grunted, and Akutagawa had to stop himself before he blew his load straight away.
You pressed your lips to his, reassuring you everything was okay. Both of you kissed for a few minutes, Akutagawa scratching your scalp with his fingers, moaning into your mouth as he slowly slipped inside.
Akutagawa pulled away from your addicting kisses when he finally bottomed out, pressing his hands against the wall, leaning heavily against you. “(Y/N),” he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your earlobe. He seemed to be calling out for you, needing you to reassure him that you were there, you were real. He was so afraid that this was a cruel joke of life, a dream he would inevitably wake from.
You clasped his back, caressing his quivering skin. “I’m here.” You croaked into his mouth, nibbling his lower lip.
Akutagawa started moving his hips, hiding his face in your neck. His hands blindly clasped your legs around his waist, using Rashomon to carry your weight. His tip managed to reach much deeper into you, and your moans loudly shattered the silence of the alley. If there was anyone scuttling in the alleys next to yours, they definitely knew what was happening.
Akutagawa started repeating your name incoherently, jackhammering his hips into yours. He hit your g-spot at every trust. His eyes were mesmerized by your bouncing tits, flicking the hardened nipple with his thumbs.
“Akutagawa!” You mewled.
Akutagawa went faster, gripping your hips so tightly he left bruises. He wrapped his arms around you, tightly pressing your chests together, the feeling of his dress shirt rubbing against your nipples being exactly what you needed to topple over the edge. You pressed a bruising kiss to his lips, kissing him so passionately you almost forgot your name.
Akutagawa caressed your mouth with his tongue, closing his eyes in blinding pleasure when you gushed around his cock as you climaxed, a cascade of your juices running down your thighs. His thrusts started to turn sloppy, and with one final thrust, sheathing himself as far he could, Akutagawa moaned your name as if it were a prayer, painting your walls white with ropes of cum.
The two of you stayed still for a few seconds, panting against one another, in a silent embrace that was worth a thousand words. Akutagawa’s hands caressed your arms, while you peppered as many kisses as there were stars in the universe on his flushed neck. Slowly, he slipped out of you, stuffing his cock back inside his pants. You winced, feeling his cum start to drip out. Not caring about his expensive shirt, Akutagawa used his sleeve to clean you up, quiet praises tumbling from his mouth.
His hands also slid your spaghetti straps back in place, eyeing the now torn slit that revealed everything he wanted to keep hidden about you. Akutagawa shrugged off his coat, tying it around your waist. Rashomon slowly let go of you, making sure your legs were safely on the ground before slithering back into oblivion.
“Akutagawa!” You called, feeling your weak legs start to stumble and your body starting to fall. Your partner came to the rescue, wrapping his arms around your waist. He was suddenly shy, and awkward, afraid that maybe he had revealed his heart to you too soon.
“Akutagawa, you’re truly the only person I would have wanted to experience this with.” Your words flew to his heart, erasing any doubt that could have sprouted, and you were almost certain you saw Akutagawa smile.
He couldn’t offer the same profound words, years of pain and betrayal blocking them before they even reached his lips, but Akutagawa offered you the closest thing he could to a love confession: “My house is nearby…would you like to come over?” His voice got quiet towards the end, and he hid his face in your hair.
“I’d love to,” You smiled back at him, and Akutagawa knew, that from that moment on, he would no longer be alone. When he intertwined your two hands together, he could not help but gaze at your fake wedding rings, hoping that, one day, they might become real.
427 notes · View notes
cherry-leclerc · 6 months
Text
red diamond ☆ cs55
genre: humor, fluff, arthistory!reader
word count: 2.8k
The story of when you and Carlos met and how the mutual connection of art takes you two on a pleasing journey that will leave you realizing a thing or two.
req!... i did a bit of touch ups from the request i got but i hope that anon doesn't mind AHH. hope you guys like it :)
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“No, no, no! Ritorno! Per favore!” 
Gasping for air, you curl over as you groan in frustration. Punching your bag, you watch lamely as the cab drives away. It was your own fault - you had overslept - but you seriously thought you would make it on time. You moved to Italy a few months ago to study Art History in one of the most prestigious universities. But along with that, there were lots of things being asked from you; volunteering in museums, endless essays, and ridiculous research that even had you second guessing your choices. 
“Stai bene?” 
Spinning around, you make eye contact with a tall man who secretly made your blood run cold. You shiver as you nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would just leave you alone. But he doesn’t budge, he only digs a single hand into his pocket. Your stomach drops.
“Am I about to get mugged?”
“What?” 
Chewing on your bottom lip, you point out his all black outfit and how creepily he kept his hand hidden from plain sight. Bright pink colors his cheeks as he instantly raises his arms up in defense. God no! Oh sh- I’m sorry, he squeaks as he winces. You let out a breath of relief as you rub your arms to help keep warm. 
“Do I look like a thief or something?”
Scanning the empty road, you squint as you try your best to find another ride. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea you’ve had to go to the Sistine Chapel at night. “Or something.” He softly laughs. Shimming out of his sweater, he shyly hands it over. “That’s very nice of you, but it’s okay. You’ll get cold.”
“I won’t. Plus, you’re shivering so much that I can hear your teeth chattering. Seriously, take it.” Instead of telling him no, you decide against it since you were two seconds away from getting frostbite. Grazie, you whisper as you tug the sweater over your head. He looks away as soon as your arms swing up and allows him to get a good glimpse of your white lingerie. “What are you doing out alone so late at night?”
Warming your hands deep inside the hoodies pockets, you respond, “I was trying to get a lift to the museum. I have to take some notes for a lecture I have tomorrow morning. I was supposed to go a whole lot earlier, but my nap was longer than I had intended.” He glances at you for a moment before jingling his keys up. You raise a brow.
“Can’t reassure you that the museum will still be open at a time like this, but I could offer you a ride back home.”
Agreeing turned out to be the best thing you could have ever done. Turns out Carlos drove for a living - whatever that means; he had been suspiciously blunt with it - but long before, he had actually studied Art History himself back in Spain. Ever so kindly, he had helped you research about The Creation of Adam. You were extremely impressed when he kept naming facts from the top of his head.
Shutting your notebook, you sheepishly shake your head. “You just saved me from embarrassment in front of my professor. She could be a bit mean when we don’t get our stuff done. Typical Italians.”
“Not all Italians are like that.”
“Sure.” Pause. “But she is.” He nods as he points towards your main entrance. Clapping your hands, you leap up from your couch. “Thanks again for all the help. I really appreciate it. I also appreciate that you didn’t turn out to be some murderer.” He squints his eyes teasingly.
“Thief or murderer, which one is it?” 
“Preferably neither.” You open the door slowly as he steps out. “See you around, Carlos.”
“Of course.”
-
A few weeks later, you’re in a complete hurry. You had overslept, again, and it was looking as if you weren’t going to make it to class on time. You mumble a line of curses at the clear image of Professor Clara lecturing you for the thousandth time. It didn’t help either the way your key got jammed at your quick attempt to lock the door. 
“For fucks sake-”
“Need help?”
“Merda!” You drop your coffee as you spin around with a hand over your stomach from the sudden shock. The familiar brunette cringes as he bends down to pick up your thermo. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He carefully takes your bag from your arm. “I just thought-”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off as you share a tight lipped smile. “It’s nice to see you, but I don’t have time for this. I’m late as it is.”
“Typical Italians.”
Your mouth drops open as you snatch your things back from him. “For your information, I am not Italian. Also, what are you doing here?” He beams.
“I have a favor to ask.”
Straightening your posture, you chirp as you take him by the hand towards his car. “Me too. Can I have a ride?”
You knew he’d agree. What you didn’t know was how excited he was to be near your presence. From the moment he first saw you he felt a sort of attraction that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yes, you were breathtakingly beautiful but there was something about your aura. Everything about you made him crave more. He felt so stupid that it took him this long to see you again.
“Sooo. What do you need?”
“Right.” Turning on his blinker, he quickly glances at the GPS. “Are you free later?”
“Way to make a girl feel special.”
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s just that there’s this painting…” When he notices your lost expression, he taps his finger desperately against the wheel. “Doni Tondo. Ever heard of it?” The mention has you buzzing as you nod excitedly. “Of course you do. Anyways, they’re holding an auction up for it. I need you.” 
“You do know I’m a broke college student who lives off of pizza and pasta, right? If you’re looking for money then I’m just going to let you down-”
“Money’s not the issue.” Flashy, you hiss as he smiles. “I have the money, but I need you. I need a date.” Why? He makes a left turn. “Do you know the meaning behind the painting?” You shake your head. “It depicts the importance of family. A healthy marriage.”
“I’m not following…”
The Spaniard becomes distressed as he sees you’re getting closer to your destination. He presses down on the brake a bit. “They want couples. Wealthy couples. Someone who they know that if they buy this piece of art then it’s going to be in good hands. That it’s going to continue serving its purpose.” He turns to you as he cocks his head a bit. “I need it as a birthday present for my mother. She’s been wanting it for ages and…Please.”
Putting the car in park right in front of the university entrance, he hopes to find an answer in your face as you keep it blank. Instead, you gather your things as you step out of his car. A delicate hand waves for him to roll the shiny window down.
“Pick me up at 8.”
-
“This is coconuts! I’ve never been inside of the Uffizi Gallery,” you whisper-shout as you cling onto his arm. He smiles down at you as he leads you to the small group of potential buyers. There were six in total - making it more intimate and scary. You were scared. His warm hand makes its way to cradle your face as he leans down to kiss your temple. You physically melt.
“It only costs a couple of euros.”
“You’re killing the vibe,” you groan as you pinch his cheek. He shrugs as he hushes you. Enzo, the coordinator, does a quick introduction with a cheerful voice. Everyone else seems to be listening just to listen, but you and Carlos were picking up on all of it like a sponge. “He’s a genius.” You stare in awe. The brunette stifles a laugh. He’s not the one who created these paintings, you know that, right? You throw a deadpanned glare. “You’re killing it,” you remind him. He pokes his tongue out.
“Why don’t we get started, shall we?” 
The rich are animals - you come up with that conclusion quick enough. The sum that flies past their lips has you gawking as you hide behind the Spaniards tall figure. €50,000, a man yells with a blonde clinging onto his arm with a wide grin. You choke. 
“Anyone willing to go for more than €50,000?”
“€100,000.”
Spinning your head to face Carlos, you have to stop yourself from calling it off. It wasn’t like it was your money anyways. Mrs. BotchedUpBoobsButThinksItsNormal grows red as she whispers to the bald man. He nods. €150,000! 
“€240,000.”
“What?” Distangling your arm from his, you freeze as you feel your fake ring fly off your ring finger. Carlos had slipped in on you - he wore a matching one - as a way to make you both look more of a real couple. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you as you clumsily run over to where it lies. “My apologies!” Enzo bends down before handing it to you. Mio Dio! What a diamond! Red and rare!
Walking over to you both, Carlos takes it from him as he slips it back onto your hand. “Good eye.” But Enzo is basically drooling as he takes your hand to analyze it. 
“I’ve never seen one so up close and personal! Very exquisite! You must feel extremely lucky, tesoro!” 
“Very,” you cheer as you pull your hand away. “How about we get back to it? Excuse my interruption-”
“So, where did he propose?”
“Sistine Chapel.”
Your cheeks burn up from his words. That was where you were trying to get to the first night you two met. To take notes of Michelangelo’s, The Creation of Adam. Much like now, you two were on a mission to retreat Michelangelo's, Doni Tondo. Enzo swoons as he shakes the Spaniards hand.
“Stravagante! What a love story! I could tell - feel - the chemistry between you two. It’s real.”
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Not used to getting such high compliments from someone like you!” Carlos cuts you off as he tugs you closer, large hand laying over your hip. You shiver. He points to the painting. “What do you say?”
“Sold to Mr. and Mrs. Sainz!”
-
A whole crew follows in black SUV’s as they carry the painting to Carlos’s home, after Enzo had insisted it should be done that same day. Extending your hand out, you admire the ring. “You said it was fake.”
“Did I? I must have forgotten.”
Turning your body to face him, you place a hand on his upper thigh. His body stiffens as he clenches his jaw and squeezes his hands tight against the steering wheel. You let out a cough as you shyly pull away. 
“You should have told me. I would have been more careful. Especially since it belongs to your mother.”
“Except it doesn’t anymore.”
Your brows pull in together as your bottom lip starts to wobble. “Did she die?” Taking in your glossy eyes, he shakes his head as he laughs. 
“She’s fine.” He doesn’t say much after that as he pulls into a fancy driveway. Jesus, you squeal. He unclicks your seat belt. “My parents are over for the holidays. They’re taking the painting with them when they leave back to Spain. Come meet them.”
You must be in some sort of trance because you let him take you by your hand as he leads you towards the mansion. You wonder why, but when you remember there’s people still around with the painting, you wrap your fingers tighter against his.
“Perfect. Grazie.” The 29 year old admires as he takes a step back to take in the painting. It was gorgeous. You were starting to get jealous that it belonged to someone else. The group of men share a quick exchange of goodbyes before scurrying out the door. Walking back to you, he taps his shoe against your heel. “What do you think?” You scrunch your nose.
“Meh.”
He spins to face you. “You’re crazy. It’s beautiful.” He looks at you as you stare up at the wall where Doni Tondo hangs. He shudders. Tickling your waist he says, “Admit it. Say you love it.” You shake your head as you giggle. I’ve seen better. He gapes. “Liar!”
“I’m not lying.”
He books it to you as you squeal and try to not trip over your dress as you run away. Grabbing you by the waist, he spins you. Admit it! “No,” you wheeze as you grow dizzy and yet don’t want the moment to end. You pull on his bow that matches with the rest of his expensive tux. “I’m going to throw up if you don’t let go!”
“¿Estamos interrumpiendo?” 
Pushing Carlos off harshly, the ring flies off your finger for the second time that night. You swallow a curse as you look up to an older couple. They smile fondly. Though you haven't met them before, you are able to quickly identify them as the Spaniards parents. Blood rushes to your face. 
“It’s so nice to meet you.” You take a step towards them as you extend your hand. They both shake it as they bring you in for a hug. You let out a small umph. Once they pull away, you pick up the ring from the floor. “I am so sorry about dropping your ring! I know it belongs to you. Carlos told me it was fake and if I had known, then I wouldn’t have flung my hand-”
“Don’t you worry, cariño - it doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Told you, Carlos interrupts. You scowl at him before handing it back to Reyes. She shakes her head as she covers your hands with hers. “Keep it.”
“But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” You twirl around as you hand it to Carlos. “Somebody take it, please.” He stares back blankly and you could tell he’s about to say the same thing, but his mother’s words make him take it from you. It’s okay, Carlos. Hesitantly, he obeys. You let out a breath of relief. 
Forcing himself to shake off the bitter feeling, he points up at the painting. “Lo hice. ¿Les gusta?” Reyes and Carlos Sr. nod as they hug each other. Nos encanta. She directs her attention back to you.
“What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.” 
And it was. It was the true depiction of a family. Carlos frowns. “You said it was okay.” Discreetly, you pinch his hip. He yelps. 
“I was only joking, you should know that.” A beat. “I think it's one of the prettiest paintings I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I’m so jealous that you two get to keep it,” you joke as they laugh. Carlos Sr. wags his finger.
“It’s not ours.” What? You and Carlos slump as you look at each other with as much confusion as shock. The older couple laughs. “It was never going to be ours, but we needed a good enough reason for Carlos to pull the trigger. He’s been talking about this painting for as long as we can remember. Isn’t that right?” Reyes nods.
“I knew that if I said I wanted it then he would get it. Either way, if he didn’t buy it then we would have bought it for him.” She walks up closer to you both. “This painting is not just a pretty sight - it’s also the raw interpretation of love. When two people fall in love, things become so crystal clear that it almost has you wondering if you’ve lost your mind. You start to learn that a family is one of the most important things and what better way than to form that with your other half. Marriage is a sacred thing - and sure, it's scary - but it’s very well worth it. You’ll see.”
Her words make your stomach twist as you catch Carlos’ reaction through your peripheral vision. It sort of looked as if he was having some sort of epiphany as he nodded attentively at his parents. For some odd reason, the image of him starting a family of his own with some random woman makes your head hurt. 
“ A few adjustments may be needed, but I have a feeling this ring will find its way to the right girl. Don’t you think, Carlitos?”
Carlos’ eyes flicker to yours as you look back at him. The connection had always been there, but something felt different. Scarily secure. Neither of you were brave enough to ask if this was something you were both feeling. Not yet, at least.
“I think it will.”
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sweetarethediscords · 1 month
Text
The Maiden of The Barren Rime
Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.
Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.
Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty
Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.
“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”
“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.
Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.
She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.
They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.
Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.
She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.
A journey Mina would take no part in.
She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.
“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”
Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.
The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”
Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.
“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”
“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”
“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”
“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”
Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.
She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.
Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.
She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.
The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.
So they were a magic wielder and a knight.
“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.
“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”
“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”
The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.
“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”
“Never heard of him,” she lied again.
The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”
“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.
Annoying.
“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”
“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”
The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.
“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.
Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.
“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”
“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.
Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”
“Deal.”
Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.
Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.
His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”
She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.
“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”
Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.
“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”
“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”
“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”
“I don’t.”
Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.
She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.
“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.
“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.
“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.
“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”
“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”
“Lead the way.”
Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.
After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.
Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.
The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.
“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”
Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.
“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.  
Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.
“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”
“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.
Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”
Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.
Mina stared at him blankly.
“I know,” she said after a moment.
Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.
Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.
“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”
“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”
“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.
“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.
“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.
A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.
She did not shake it.
“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.
Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”
Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”
“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”
Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.
“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.
“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”
“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”
“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.
“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”
Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.
Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.
Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.
“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”
She could have just left it at ‘no’.
“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.
Definitely a show-off.
“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.
Mina watched him walk away.
If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.
🜁
“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”
“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.
Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”
“It’s not.”
“Then how’d it happen for you?”
“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”
“And what did that entail?”
“Doing it.”
“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”
“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”
“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.
“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”
“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”
His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.
“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.
Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”
“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.
“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”
“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”
Wera groaned.
“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”
“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”
She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”
“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”
Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.
Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”
“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.
“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”
Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.
“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”
 If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.
“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”
“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”
“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.
“Avalanches.”
“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”
“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.
“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”
Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”
“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”
As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.
“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.
All of them raised their hands.
Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”
“Hey!” Enoch whined.
“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”
Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.
“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”
“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”
If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.
“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”
She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.
“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”
“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”
“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”
She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.
There it was. She hated being talked down to.
Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.
“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”
“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.
“Yes, but she’s so—”
“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.
“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.
“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”
“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”
“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.
Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.
“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”
A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.
Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.
She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.
“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.
For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.
With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.
The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.
Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.
Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.
“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.
It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.
All of their mouths hung agape.
A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.
“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.
“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.
“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”
Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”
“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”
Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.
“The wind even changed direction.”
The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.
To show my appreciation, here's a 50% off discount code you can use when ordering The Maiden of the Barren Rime E-Book off of my website: MBRTUMBLR50
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