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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it.

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support.

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed.

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me.

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you?

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable.

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts.

— Dismissed.

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want.

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem.

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric.

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances.

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect.

— Sir? Is everything alright?

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator.

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t.

— I thought you’d heard me the first time.

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now?

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away?

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja?

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you.

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow.

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable.

— You forgot the milk.

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk.

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics.

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty.

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir.

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here.

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office.

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise.

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen.

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay.

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees.

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already.

— Ja. Bra is next.

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger.

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though.

— Braves Mädchen…good girl.

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target.

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples.

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window.

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen?

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you.

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life.

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation.

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel?

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language.

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him.

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest.

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop.

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide.

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges.

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat.

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created.

— How do you feel?

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less.

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles.

— My pleasure, Schatzen.

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain.

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all.

#cod #yandere konig #konig x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #konig #konig x you

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risuola · 8 months

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TOO MUCH — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Lately, it felt like not a second pass by without some new curse appearing somewhere in Japan and both you and Satoru had your hands full of work for few weeks, but when he comes back home, exhausted to the bone, his composure snaps and he unloads his frustration on you.

cw: angst, verbal abuse, hurt/little comfort, mentions of blood and hurt, reader is injured, mental exhaustion — 2,5k words

Too much. Too much of everything that piled up on Satoru's shoulders, weighing him down so heavily that he almost couldn't breathe. It felt like the world was on fire, curses crawling out of every shithole in Japan, most of them first or special grade, spreading nothing but death and chaos. So many people killed, so much blood and pain he had witnessed in the last few weeks, it drowned him in exhaustion and helplessness. Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, and yet he felt so helpless in the current situation. He traveled from town to town, fighting these terrors, but the lives that had been taken away, he couldn't bring back, and he used to think that he was immune to it already. Turns out, one can never be immune enough.

You had your hands full with work as well, but you stayed in Tokyo. The situation drained your energy too, the cascading waves of sadness and sorrow made you feel like you couldn't think straight, but you pushed through. You felt so weak, but had to be strong, everyone had to be. All of your sorcerer friends were just as engaged in the fight as you were, just as tired and distressed, but the show must go on, as they say.

You and Gojo weren't officially a couple, though everyone knew you were together. You were friends, yes, the kind of friends who kiss and have sex. The kind of friends that use pet-names and fall asleep while cuddling naked. Shit, you lived together for a few months, you know everything about him and he knows just as much about you. And you were happy, sharing every moment. He always said that you bring him so much comfort, that he feels like he can be openly himself when he's with you and be accepted for it. Nothing could ever bring you more joy than the man you love feeling comfortable with you.

That being said, it wasn't the best time for your relationship slash situationship. He was more out of the house than in it, and you were just sleeping there, barely. It's been going on for a few weeks already, and it's just now it’s beginning to finally calm down. Few weeks of constant fighting for everyone involved in the jujutsu world, but it started to slow down. So you knew that Satoru would finally return home.

It's when you showered and put on your pajamas that you heard the keys twisting in the lock and the doors opening. Putting on a smile, you rushed to welcome Gojo home, but the moment you saw him, you knew he's extremely exhausted.

Satoru entered the house already annoyed by the conversation he had with Gakuganji a few moments before. That old fart had the audacity to nag him about his methods while he himself was sitting in his cave sipping green tea, not caring one bit that the world was drowning in curses and blood. He threw the keys on the shelf, kicked off his shoes and took off the blindfold, then looked at you, all clean and comfortable in your pajamas. He scoffed quietly.

He felt like his own body was falling apart, everything hurt, his head was pounding, his eyes were burning. Even though he was actively healing himself, the side effects of everything were getting to him. A few weeks of nonstop fighting, of domains, of reds, blues, and purples, and so much physical combat had left him hanging on the last thread of his composure. The usual mask of cheerful carelessness long gone.

Suddenly he wished he could enter the empty house, throw away his clothes, collapse on the bed dirty and just fall asleep, but he couldn't. You were there. And there was never a time in the past when he wouldn't be absolutely overjoyed to come home to you. Even when tired, he wanted nothing more than your arms around him. But not right now.

"Satoru, hey," you greeted him, keeping your voice soft and on the quiet side. You knew him so well, you could see how fatigued he was and frankly, you couldn't blame him. Being the strongest had its downsides, one of which was being very much in demand, and sadly, no one could take his place. "You're exhausted, huh?"

"Look at you, so damn perceptive," he snapped harshly, his eyes cold and empty as he looked down at you. He walked past you to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Are you hungry? I can make you someth-“

"No, just shut up, you cannot make me fucking anything," once again, his tone was cold as he snarled at you. It was the first time so much cyanide spilled out of his mouth and he just barely opened it. At first you tried to understand it. Things had been really draining lately and you knew he was angry because he was tired, but it hurt nonetheless.

"Alright," you sighed, deciding it's best not to get deeper into the conversation when he's so argumentative. "Do as you wish, get some rest, Satoru."

"You know, why instead of telling me what the hell to do, you just don't leave my house, huh?", Shut up Gojo, he screamed at himself subconsciously. "Why are you even here anyway?" Shut. Up. " All comfy when I'm constantly on the job?"

"I know you're tired, Satoru, but I've been on missions too. I'm tired too," you looked at him in defeat, unable to keep the smiley mask on. There was so much wrong in this situation, so much anger being thrown at you for no reason whatsoever, and you had every right in the world to be just as angry as he was, but you just chose not to. You wanted to welcome him home with warmth, comfort him, and keep him up even if you felt down. You wanted to soothe his aching body when yours hurt just as much. Or worse. You were badly injured during the last few battles, but Shoko had her hands so full, you told her you could wait, and you hid all those wounds from Gojo's eyes so as not to worry him.

"'Yeah, your little missions,'" he bit, and your brows furrowed at the sound of his words.

"What does that even mean?" you asked, slowly feeling the heat of anger coursing through your veins. "I'm first gra-"

"I don't care what you are. You're still nothing to me. I deal with real shit, not those..."

You slapped him. Or at least you tried, your hand stopping just short of his face, and it surprised you to realize his limitless was still on, even though he was home already. He was still in fight-or-flight mode, still feeling threatened enough to keep his defensive techniques activated.

"Just what do you think you're fucking doing?" he growled, taking your wrist into his grip, the squeeze shooting shockwaves of pain through your nervous system. "Did my words hurt you? Did the truth hurt you so badly that you thought you could actually hit me?", his tone had a taunting undertone, and when you looked into his blue eyes, you saw nothing but cold. "Funny little thing."

"Let go, Satoru."

"Oh, I will. And when I do, you'll get your useless ass out of here. I'm not your boyfriend, we just fuck, we're not in a goddamn relationship for you to be here all the time. I need my space."

Gojo hated every word that fell out of his mouth, but now he couldn't take them back or erase them, and he didn't exactly know how to act now that he had said them. Immediately, he let his limitless inactivate, hoping you'd want to slap him again. Shit, he'd even accept a kick in the balls, but you remained silent, just looking at him. He could tell by the way your eyes glistened in the sharp artificial light of his kitchen that there were tears threatening to come out, but you didn't cry. Your jaw clenched for a moment and you lowered your hand.

"Right," you exhaled deeply, feeling the hurt burn your heart and soul. The smoke of sadness already flowing through your veins, your cells, your mind. "You're right, we're not. Here," you performed a theatrical swing of your arm, displaying the interiors to him, "your fucking space. I'll let myself out."

"Y/n..." he tried, but you were already in the room, changing from your pj's to sweatpants. He stayed in the kitchen, hoping you'd just jump into bed and maybe cry about it all, and he'd just come back later and comfort you when he wasn't mad anymore, but it didn't go that way.

Once he saw you again, you were heading towards the door.

"Y/n stay, don't be silly, stop," he tried to grab you, but you slapped his hands away.

"What, does the almighty, fucking honored one wish to add something to his oh-so-wonderful speech?"

"No, I'm sorry, stay," he took your hand forcefully, pulling you into his chest, but you fought back, not wanting anything to do with him right now. He had said too much. You knew it was all driven by his exhaustion, but it was far too much.

"No, Gojo, I don't want to stay here. I'm more than pleased to leave you in your space. There's no damn reason for you to share your precious air with such a useless nothing."

"No, no, please," he begged, his anger slowly being overtaken by panic. The sound of his last name felt cold and unfamiliar as it rolled off your tongue. "I'm sorry, please stay. I didn't mean it. Fuck, I didn't mean any of it."

"Please, take your hands off me," you told him more quietly. You were tired and now emotionally drained as well. All you wanted from this evening was to cuddle up with him to sleep. To bask in his warmth, knowing he's safe and home, to feel his skin against yours, to breathe him in. But no.

"No, I won't," he lowered his head and buried his face in your neck. "Please, I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean it, I'm just so tired. I feel dead, there has been so much fighting and pain and suffering and death all around me these past few weeks. I'm sorry, y/n," his voice faded to whisper as he rambled against your pulse.

"Gojo..."

"I don't think you're useless or nothing. Fuck, what have I done" he was spiraling slowly into a panic attack. You could feel his heartbeat getting hectic, his breathing uneven, and his grip on you so tight it hurt. "I am nothing without you. Please stay."

"Gojo."

"I love you," he whispered, his tone breathless, and at first you thought you had heard him wrong. He had never told you that. Not even once. "I love you so fucking much, please. Slap me, kick me, punch me in the dick, I don't care. Just don't leave me. I'm so sorry."

"Satoru, please, it hurts..."

"Hurts?", he froze. What hurts? Did he hurt you? The thought frightened him, not only did he insult you for no damn reason and now he caused you pain? As if burned, he let go of you completely, raising his hands as if he wanted to keep them in sight so you knew he wouldn't hurt you anymore. "I'm sorry."

"I've been fighting for these weeks, too. I'm tired too. I would never compare myself to you, but I gave it my all, too," you exhaled deeply. "And I know you're exhausted, Satoru. So please go to bed and get some sleep. I'll just go home."

"Here is your home, with me."

"Here?", you briefly looked around. It was a place you loved because it was filled with him. It was where your heart wanted to be when you felt safest and happiest, but now... "Suddenly I feel like an intruder here. I feel like I shouldn't be here."

"No, please don't say that. Listen, y/n, love," he dropped to his knees, took your hands in his and kissed the tops of them gently and tenderly. "Please, stay with me. I'm an idiot. But I love you. And I need you here, I need you in my life. I want you by my side."

"So, what do you want us to be? You said we're just fucking. God, I thought we were at least friends, if not a couple, but..."

"I want us to be everything. I want you to be my friend, my partner, my lover, my wife and my entire world."

You sighed. Deep and slow, pushing the air out of your lungs, letting your whole body deflate as you took his hands and pulled him up.

"Go take a shower and come to bed. You need to sleep it off. I need to rest too."

Obeying, Satoru rushed to the bathroom and you made sure to lock the doors, turn off the lights and took the time to change back into your pajamas. Sitting on the bed, you finally felt the tears running down your face. They brought you some relief and you let them flow freely, desperate to get it out of you before Gojo came back. It pained you how wrong the evening went and you wondered if there was anything you did to cause it, but no. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it. And you should leave him there alone, just as he wished for. Then why were you still here?

"Please don't cry," his long arms wrapped around you from behind, enveloping you in his warmth. The light sweet scent of his body wash pleasantly filled your airways and it's out of habit that you leaned into him. "Will you ever forgive me?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks. Slowly, he laid you down on the pillows and took his usual place beside you.

"I will," you sighed, already feeling the discomfort. "But please, let's change sides."

Satoru didn't understand at first, but he did what you asked anyway. When he saw you exhale in relief as you turned to the other side, his brain clicked. Moving his hands in the most delicate way possible, he lifted your shirt a little, revealing the many layers of bandages, already tinged with red that was seeping through them slowly.

"God, you're wounded. That's what was hurting you when I held you... I had no idea why you didn't tel-, ah, because I was being an asshole, right," he sighed.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to tell you anyway. I'm fine, just Shoko had her hands full, so I told her I'd wait a day or two. It's just a scratch, really," you told him, fixing your shirt. "Please, let's get some sleep, okay? We'll talk about it all later."

"I love you," he whispered, pulling you to his chest and planting a kiss on the top of your head. It was only now that he could feel his body relax, with you right next to him, your heartbeat syncing with his own, and all of your loving aura filling his body. And he realized that the words he never had the balls to say out loud to you now felt natural, rolling off his tongue. "I love you so much."

"You idiot," you sighed, closing your eyes and slowly melting into his form. "I love you too."

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werecreature-addicted · 2 months

Note

I have been waiting for this! This has been stuck in my head since you mentioned how there's too many werewolf x bunny fics.

Imagine there's a village of prey hybrids. All the villagers that live there are some kind of prey animal.

The village is very peaceful, but is the target of a tribe of predator hybrids that dwell in the deepest part of the forest.

Every year, these predator hybrids would attack the prey village and would kidnap any villager unlucky enough to be caught.

These attacks typically happen around mid to late spring, from dusk to well into the night.

The prey villagers always hide around this time, but at least one to three people end up being taken.

Last year was one of the reader's friends. A sweet little sheep that was said to be taken by a large male black wolf. Poor girl was likely eaten by that horrible beast! (In a way she was eaten~)

This year, it is reader's turn.

Reader is a deer hybrid that got caught while out gathering food in the forest. Only to be jumped by a strong and handsome male mountain lion hybrid and taken back to his tribe.

There reader finds her friend as well as other people from her village, all well and alive and with large clearly pregnant bellies as well as a few children.

Turns out the predator tribe has been taking people from your village as their mates. Even treating their prey mates with the utmost care.

Something the reader will understand fully once she's been bred with her first litter of cubs.

your parents had always warned you to be careful when you left the safety of the village, especially during spring when nearby predators would go into heat and kill little deer girls like you to feed to keep up their strength. You were so careful, the fastest in the herd, the best at running away, no predator could ever catch you....other people weren't so lucky. Every year a few people would go missing, trail too close to the border, stay out foraging after sunset, and disappear.

Most of the time, you don't know the prey who gets taken, but sometimes you do, like when your best friend got dragged off by a horrifying wolf. You grieved the loss of your friend and redoubled your commitment to safety... but you got cocky. you were the fastest in your age group, no one could catch you, especially not some heavy, slow predator.

It's a warm spring evening, the breeze gentle and sweet, smelling like honeysuckle and green grass. the sunsets casting the valley in golden light, your basket is full of fat wild blackberries. how could anything go wrong on a day like this? A twig snaps to your right, and you turn and freeze, looking carefully at the tree line. you don't see anything... but your heart is still racing, by the time you spot the hungry green eyes peering up at you it's already too late. you take off running, but for once, you aren't fast enough.

The mountain lion pounces and lifts you off of your feet, throwing you easily over his broad shoulders, you freeze, your heart beating faster and faster, you need to think, he hasn't killed and eaten you yet- maybe you could escape, you just need to keep your head.

It's a much shorter journey to the preditor village than you would have thought, you'd never traveled far from home so you had no idea that they were so close this whole time. What's even more surprising is the amount of prey animals, wandering around town and looking happy. A rabbit boy with big floppy ears hanging off the arm of a buff-looking wolf, a deer hybrid like yourself flirting with two different lions, and a sheep- a sheep that you recognize. Your eyes go wide as it clicks into place. the people being taken weren't being killed at all.

The mountain lion puts you down and looks at you closely, evaluating you. "I wasn't too rough was I? You're not hurt?" he asks. you shake your head slowly

"n-no. I'm not hurt just- scared," you admit shyly. He nuzzles you comfortingly,

"awe, don't worry my mate, I'll keep you safe... I won't let anything happen to you, no one else will touch you while you're with me," he purrs and you shift, embarrassed to tell him that it was him you were afraid of. although you had to admit if this big scary mountain lion is guarding you, and claiming you as their mate, you do feel a little safer.

#monster imagine #monster #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #werewolves #werewolf

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willowbelle · 13 days

Text

Soft Currents

zoro & waking up together

❤︎ roronoa zoro x reader ❤︎

𖤐₊˚.༄ (fluff) 𖤐₊˚.༄

(written with fem reader in mind, but no pronouns mentioned)

cw: soft, sleepy zoro, established relationship, body worship, kissing.

summary: you wake up before zoro & admire him while he sleeps. ♡︎

word count: ~800

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail @thesunxwentblack

Soft Currents

The blankets cocooning your half-sleeping form provide warmth and comfort, but pale in comparison to the embrace of the swordsman's strong arms holding you close. As the sun timidly emerges from behind wispy sea clouds, its gentle rays lazily filter through the fluttering curtains of your shared bedroom.

You shift gently, turning to behold Zoro as he sleeps, his chiseled features softened only slightly by the delicate dance of morning light.

As you hum softly to yourself, your fingers trace a delicate path along the rhythmic rise and fall of his bare chest. Despite the lightness of your touch, a barely-there graze, the warmth of his skin seeps into your fingertips and sends heat rushing through your veins.

Your fingers continue their languid journey, the remnants of sleep evident in the leisurely pace of your movements as you trace a path from his chest, up the gentle curve of his neck, and along the sharp contours of his jawline.

Eventually, you find yourself drawn closer, your head resting upon his warm, scarred chest. From this intimate vantage point, your curious fingers dance upwards, drawn to the glint of his three dangling gold earrings. Gently toying with each one, you feel the weight of the metal against your skin, admiring the way they catch the morning light and cast delicate reflections across the room.

You find solace in the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, each thud a reassuring presence, your only companion in the gentle passage of time as Zoro continues to snore softly beneath you.

As the morning progresses, the sunlight begins to assert itself, gradually seeping through the gaps in the fluttering curtains. At first, it's a timid presence, casting faint tendrils of light that dance across the room, painting delicate patterns on the walls and floor. But the golden rays grow bolder with each passing moment, gradually intensifying in both warmth and luminosity as you continue to gently caress the swordsman’s toned figure.

You trace the lines of his strong jaw, marveling at the rugged masculinity softened by the morning light. Your fingers linger over his faint scars, marks that tell silent stories of battles won and challenges overcome, each imperfection a testament to his strength and resilience.

Brushing aside a stray lock of his green hair to reveal the serene expression on his sleeping face; there’s a vulnerability in his slumber, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior you know him to be. Yet, it’s in these quiet moments between linens that you find yourself most captivated, cherishing the intimacy of sharing this space with him.

As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its brilliance becomes more pronounced, bathing the room in a soft, ethereal glow. The once-muted colors of the furnishings come alive under its touch, infused with a radiant warmth that fills the space with a sense of vitality.

As the sunlight gently caresses his face, Zoro's eyes begin to flutter open, the warm glow of morning coaxing him from his slumber.

He stirs a bit, still in the midst of waking, before turning to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he meets your gaze.

It's a fleeting sight; his first and potentially only smile of the day, but one you cherish dearly, for it radiates with unparalleled genuineness. It's a smile upon waking, perhaps the most authentic expression one can offer.

With a soft yawn, he turns to face you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he gazes sleepily into your eyes. A contented smile graces his lips before he speaks, his voice still laced with drowsiness,

“Been awake for long?”

As he shifts closer, you feel the warmth of his touch, a gentle reassurance in the quiet of the morning. Only then do you mimic his yawn, as if just waking up yourself, a subtle guise to conceal the moments you spent admiring him while waiting for him to awaken.

"Mm, no," you murmur softly, "just woke up, too," the white lie slips effortlessly from your lips before you press a tender kiss against his.

His lips turn upwards into a smile against yours, a gentle heat radiating from his blushing face.

As you pull away, his gaze flickers down to where your fingers had been playing with his earrings earlier, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

"You know, if you keep fiddling with those, I might just have to get you a pair” he teases.

A deep, red-hot blush rushes to your cheeks as he squeezes your hand in acknowledgement, making you tug the sheets over your head in embarrassment.

He chuckles and ruffles your hair through the blankets,

“Then maybe you won't have to be so sneaky with your admiration, hmm?”

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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

in the middle of nowhere.

ln x fem!reader

in which you get the wrong idea in the middle of nowhere, so lando finally pops the question.

hello again! two fics in three days, unhinged jas is back 🤭 right so anyways, here you go! i love this concept so much and i hope you do too, lemme know what you think!

this can absolutely count as part two to everything if you want it to!

songs to set the mood: green eyes::siena by nothing but thieves, fearless by taylor swift, white ferrari by frank ocean, to love by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+ minors dni! smut, angst for a sec, fluff, bit of choking, reader being stupid, lando also being stupid, then being so sickeningly in love, car sex hehe

2.1k words

the proposal

lando could see it now, the picture clear in his mind. the lines of your dress, clean and white. a veil that flowed, lacy and intricate. your eyes meeting his as you ascended towards him, ready to be bound together in life and love by two silver bands.

all you had to do was say yes. all he had to do was ask.

it was simple enough, getting down on one knee, bowing down before the woman he cherished with everything he had. the planning, however, that went into asking the question was eating him alive.

lando thought that he’d nailed it, finally landing on that one big idea that you’d remember for the rest of your lives. the perfect moment where he’d pledge to be yours forever.

little did he know that while the preparation was killing him slowly, it was also killing you.

the car ride was quiet.

lando tried to remain neutral, hiding his nerves and excitement. today was the day, you were en route to a small vineyard in the south of france. the drive from your monaco apartment wasn’t too far, but it was long enough for the pair of you to slip into silence. lando perceived it to be comfortable, glancing at you every now and then, noticing how you were taking in the countryside.

he tried not to concern himself over the way you were fiddling with your hair, chewing at your fingernails. you didn’t seem to notice the way he was watching you, eyes flirting between where you sat and the road ahead. he was more concerned by the dark cloud gathering ahead, but found some hope in the way the sunlight broke through, casting beams of light every which way.

the road was dead, not another car for miles. lando felt like you were the only two people in the world, manoeuvring the vintage lamborghini through the winding lanes, the overhanging trees casting curious shadows. it felt like a fairytale, until, of course, it didn’t.

“do you still love me, lando?” you choked out, finally turning to look at him.

lando slammed the brakes, hard. the way they screeched in protest told him that he’d be dropping a large sum into his mechanics bank account, but he couldn’t find an ounce of care, not when the woman he adored was asking such gut wrenching questions.

“what?” lando spat, delirious with confusion. his eyes were wide, wild with fear. “i- what?” he repeated himself, heart beating dangerously fast, and not in the usual way it did when you spoke.

“you just… are you breaking up with me?” your eyes were brimming with tears, lip quivering ever so slightly, but you stayed strong.

“are you serious?” lando was bewildered. “why would you think that?” he was wracking his brain for anything he’d done wrong.

“you’ve been so distant, at first i thought- well i don’t know what i thought, i just feel like you’re slipping away from me.” you sounded like the shell of your usual self, distraught in the face of it all ending. lando was too.

“baby, i’m so sorry. you’ve got it all wrong, i promise.” lando turned in his seat towards you, quickly checking his mirror as he did, safety first. he grabbed your hands, eyes meeting yours as he tried to convey reassurance.

“why have you been like this, then? have i done something wrong?” and so the troubleshooting began.

lando clenched his teeth, wondering how on earth he could explain his way out of this one without completely letting the cat out of the bag. it seemed that while he was planning perfection, he’d been neglecting you and he felt painfully stupid.

“i can’t… well, i can’t say.” lando replied, voice laced with hesitation. you frowned at his lack of explanation, head tilted in confusion.

“you can’t say? well that’s reassuring.” you bit back sarcastically. “if you don’t want me anymore, i’d rather you just tell me now.”

lando couldn’t believe what he was hearing. three years. three years you’d been together, and he was sure he’d loved you even longer. he was shocked that you thought that low of him, that he’d treat you so poorly, stringing you along. he could admit to himself that he’d made a bit of a mess of this, but he couldn’t accept that you thought he didn’t love you.

lando lived and breathed you.

“are you serious? you think i don’t want you?” his mind was moving a million miles an hour, and it spurred him on to make his next move. “get out the car.”

lando swung his door open, bounding round the door to open your door. there was a little velvet box burning a hole in his pocket, and he could feel it getting hotter with every stride he took. you stared at him dumbfounded when he took your hand, pulling you out of the car and into the road. you glanced around nervously, making sure you weren’t about to cause a car crash, but the coast was clear.

he pulled you into his chest, holding you close, eyes fixed on yours, his own a little teary now.

“you think i don’t want you? god.” lando sighed, shaking his head. one of his hands snaked down to his pocket. “you are the only person i will ever want. i didn’t want to do this here, had a whole plan and everything, but that means nothing to me if the woman i love thinks i don’t want her.”

his little speech had knocked the air out of you, and as he sunk down onto one knee, the colours of the sun hitting him so beautifully, you realised just how wrong you had been.

“baby, from the moment i met you, i knew. i knew you were gonna be my person, i just didn’t even imagine that you’d feel the same way. these years with you have been the best fucking years of my life, and i knew from the beginning that i wanted you by my side through it all.”

he was grinning up at you, a ball of nerves and curls, a few tears falling. you were a river, weeping over him, one hand clutching over your heart, the other fallen to your side.

“maybe i got it wrong, and i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. but i’m asking what i’ve wanted to ask for a ridiculously long time.” lando breathed. “will you marry me?”

you blinked, once, twice, choking out breaths between sobs. you dragged him up from the ground, kissing him with everything you had left. it was passionate, heavy with pent up emotion, and you never wanted to let him go. you cupped his face, keeping you together when you broke apart.

“yes, lando.” you whispered. “of course.” he slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect, effortless fit, and then you were kissing him again, as close as could be, his hands all over you.

that’s when you felt the first drops of rain, the clouds finally breaking, just as they’d been threatening to all day.

“oh, fuck.” lando muttered, ready to pull you back to the car, but you wanted this moment to last.

“it doesn’t matter.” you said, letting the droplets coat your flushed skin. lando just smiled, relief washing over him like the rain.

you were engaged. fuck the rain.

and so, there you were, getting your very own movie moment, kissing in the rain with the love of your life, your fiancé, the man you would spend the rest of your life with. the sun still broke through the clouds, bathing you in light as the rain splattered against the damp ground. the leaves of the trees seemed to glisten, water droplets casting twinkles like fairy lights all around you. somehow, after everything, it was perfect. more perfect that anything you could have asked for, and, as bittersweet as it was to admit it, better than anything lando could have planned.

you threw your head back, staring up at the sky. lando leant forward, kissing over your exposed neck, and you hummed in delight. his lips worked their way up until they were ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“i love you. i will always love you.” lando whispered, and you melted into his hands that had a firm grip on your waist.

you shared a look, every worry dissipated, and you saw your life together, right there in his eyes. a flower littered aisle, him in a sleek black suit, his eyes meeting yours from the other side of the room. and then he was kissing you again and you felt the cool, damp metal of his car against your skin. your mind was full of houses in the country, white bedsheets, children playing in a garden. dinners by a fireplace and maybe a dog. but everything you saw slipped away until the only thing that remained was lando, right here, right now.

he was all over you, wet curls trickling cold water over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you grabbed at his shoulders, pulling at his soaked shirt, the white material translucent from the weather. it clung to him deliciously as you ran your hands over the linen.

“get in the car.” he groaned, sliding the material of your skirt up your legs. you complied instantly, turning to climb into your seat, when he stopped you. “no, honey. on my lap.” he smiled mischievously as he slid into the passenger seat and you quickly followed clambering onto his lap.

lando pulled your left hand up, so that it was resting over his heart. you finally had a chance to properly take in the ring, breathtaking as it was. it was an emerald cut diamond, simple yet elegant, exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“you see that? every time you look at this ring i want you to remember that i will always be yours. okay?” his voice had dropped, making the moment you were in even more intimate.

“okay.” you whispered, and his hand trailed lower, slipping under the hem of your ridden up dress. the other went to your neck, fingers gripping softly at the base of your throat.

“you thought i didn’t want you?” his grip tightened, your eyes wide in awe, fixed on his, murky blue green waters turned dark. “silly girl.” and then his other hand found your underwear, tugging it to the side.

lando moaned when he felt how wet you were, dripping all over his fingers, nice and ready for him. he worked through your folds, applying a firm, slow pressure to your clit. your mouth hung open, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure, but the way his hand closed around your neck had you staring back at him again.

“i need you.” you whimpered, your own smaller hands gripping at his wrist, pushing him further into your delicate neck, rolling your hips against where his hand worked against your soft flesh.

“don’t doubt me anymore, do you? not when i’m the only one who can make you feel like this?” lando teased, and your stomach tightened, clamping down on the two fingers he’d slipped inside you.

“no,” you whined. “only you, lando.” and that was enough convincing for him.

he held you up, just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, and you gripped his shoulders, clawing at him as you sunk down on his length. the rain fell harder, condensation gathering on the windows as you ground down on him, meeting his thrusts. tears pricked your eyes; he felt so good, fit you like a missing puzzle piece, and you’d doubted him. you knew, in that moment, that you’d never do such a thing again.

moans were shared between you in unison, your foreheads pressed together as you both got closer and closer, the tight space intensifying the desperation to meet your end. his hands were firm on your hips, his body tight underneath your hands. you couldn’t keep the pace, thighs aching where you were straddling him, and he quickly took charge. your head fell to his shoulder, panting into his ear as he gave you everything, putting everything he had into the final few thrusts.

you laid against his chest in silence after, the sunset casting pinks and purples over the car. you grinned lazily, exhausted, your heart fuller than ever before.

“i’m sorry i doubted you.” you mumbled into his neck, nosing at his stubbled jaw.

“i’m sorry i made you doubt me.” he responded, stroking your hair, squeezing you tighter for a second.

“i can’t wait to marry you, lando.” you kissed his jaw, sitting up to smile at him. your hands looped around his neck, twisting his curls around your fingers.

“my wife.” lando chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “let’s get you home, hm?”

“please.” you crooned. “i’m sure you need to tell max that you finally asked me, huh?”

“you know me too well.”

taglist

removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 smut #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 angst

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undertheorangetree · 6 months

Text

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter One- The Consummation

Summary- With the Targaryen dynasty at risk, the last of the family must make unsavory decisions in order to ensure their reign continues.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Angst. Politicking. Consummation of marriage with witnesses. Mentions of death. Trauma. Uncomfortable smut.

Author's Note- This first chapter is not very sexy!! There is (consensual) smut but it is not hot nor is it meant to be. The sexy smut will happen later. With that said, the link to the full chapter is below :)

series masterlist

When the dust settles around the Dance of the Dragons, she is the only member of her family still alive.

Her mother burned by dragonfire, her step father cut down on dragonback. Jace and Luke lay dead at the bottom of the ocean alongside Aegon and Viserys while Joffrey lay scattered across the streets of Flea Bottom. It is a reality she does not like to face and though she still has Baela, Rhaena, and their grandfather, she knows she is the last of her family line. The last of Rhaenyra's blood, the blood of the true heir.

It is that blood that damns her the moment Aegon is found poisoned, laying dead in his litter.

She had been spared alongside Baela and Rhaena, though she knew that was more so Corlys's idea than anyone else's. Aegon had demanded her head the moment he learned that it was she and Silverwing who had been responsible for Daeron's death but Corlys had managed to talk him down to simply keeping her as a hostage. He had argued that by having her bend the knee, it would show her mother's loyalists that he was the true king above all others, that her fealty had the power to stop Cregan Stark's march south and would calm tensions in the Riverlands and Eyrie. Aegon had agreed, though only after Alicent had prompted him to, and she had been spared from the executioner's block. Though as she sits at the small council table, staring at her last living uncle, she wishes Aegon had found the kindness in his black heart to swing the axe.

The Battle Above the God's Eye had left Aemond with another scar, this one having ripped through the flesh of his left shoulder and bicep. She wishes it crippled him further, that Daemon's final act managed to cut his arm from its socket, gouge out his last remaining eye and send him plunging into the depth of the God's Eye but other than a deep new scar, her step father managed little.

"Lord Corlys and I believe that it is important, especially now, to assure the smallfolk that this war is far behind us now. Aegon's death threatens the already fragile stability we have managed to find ourselves on," Alicent explains, though it is not directed at her. They had all been whisked away into the small council chambers less than a handful of hours after Aegon had been found dead and that grief is still present in Alicent. Her eyes are rimmed red- a common trait of hers now- and her voice is hoarse from crying, but she still manages to stay strong before the men gathered. She and Aemond had been ordered to sit in on the small council meeting but neither have been given leave to speak. They sit silently, waiting for the moment that deemed their appearance here necessary as Alicent turns to her grandfather. "Which is why we have come to a kind of agreement."

"We want the Iron Throne to remain in Targaryen hands just as fervently as all others here and with the death of our king so fresh, it is of the utmost importance that we find a suitable heir quickly. One that puts both the Blacks and the Greens at ease and prevents a continuation of the war," Corlys says, fingers pushing at the small ball that rests before him.

When the two of them had the time to discuss a potential heir, she has no idea, but perhaps it is a blessing that they had. With Aegon and all his children dead, there are few options left for the throne. She knows in her heart that she is the legitimate heir, being the only one left who has Rhaenyra's blood running through her veins, but she is a woman. After all that has happened, only a fool would attempt to crown her. The same could be said for Baela and Rhaena, though their claims are not as strong as her own. That left Aemond, a man, but widely hated for all he had done throughout the war.

They are damned regardless of who is chosen, the risk of further rebellion at every turn. She does not pity the remnants of this council for the choice they must make now. The realm rests on the shoulders of the six people left in this room and that is a burden she would not want to carry.

"And you have an idea as to who the most suitable heir would be, my lord?" Lord Larys asks. Though he sits at the table, he is not truly facing it, leaning on the cane in his hands. She turns her head to look at him, his eyes wide with his question, and feels her stomach turn at the mere sight of him, their master of whisperers.

Corlys looks toward Alicent, waiting until she gives the faintest nod of her head before speaking again. "My granddaughter, the princess, is Rhaenyra's last surviving child. Aemond is the last surviving child of King Viserys and acted as Aegon's regent for more than half his reign. The dowager and I propose that we unite house Targaryen once and for all and have the two wed to serve the realm as king and queen, like the Old King and Good Queen Alysanne. Equal in power, so as to bring all this unrest to an end."

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen x niece!reader #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #Aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader

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liveontelevision · 2 months

Text

Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader

My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3

Preview:

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

•••

You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.

He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.

Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.

No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.

When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.

"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.

"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.

It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.

"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.

He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.

"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.

"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.

"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.

His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.

"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.

"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.

"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.

" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close- but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -

He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.

"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.

"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"

"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.

"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.

After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.

"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.

Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.

"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.

" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.

"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.

"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.

He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.

"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.

"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.

"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.

He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.

He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.

"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.

"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.

He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.

"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.

"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.

"Alastor? Love?"

you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.

"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.

He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.

"If you insist, Love.."

He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.

He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.

Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.

"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.

"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.

"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut

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harunovella · 3 days

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ every thought I'm thinking of is you; t.f.

synopsis: you never knew your parents had this much worry when it came to your college life, hiring a bodyguard for you, you just never expected to fall in love this quickly… let alone, let him be your first... content: fem!reader, bodyguard!toji, age gap, older man/younger woman, one sided love, slight obsession, reader is a little bit dramatic but she wants what she wants and what she wants is toji, love confessions, guilt, loss of virginity, pwp, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare (he is the king of after care ok), toji is a boob man, ambiguous/open ending, not beta read! note: okay but the concept of bodyguard!toji came to me a as a dream way before I wrote my leon fic where he basically becomes reader's guard... anyway, pls enjoy! I love dramatic endings, oops- title inspo (pls listen!)

Being a professional bodyguard meant being hired to protect those important, those who were wealthy. The array of politicians, actors, musicians—you name it—that hired him made his resume endless. However, this was a first. You were a first. Hired by a pair of rich folks to watch over their daughter who enjoyed her college years a little... too much.

Being careless was quite the understatement. Sure, you were doing fine academically, excelling in your classes to get one step closer to your degree... but that didn't stop you from having a full college life. Even if you weren't in a dorm. What, with the success of your parents, you lived in a neighborhood near one of the country's most finest universities. There was no need to live on campus, you could stay home.

Which is why you were always out at the wee hours of the night, not returning home until the sun rose. That was dramatic, but that was how your parents felt. You stayed up late, partied, got home at an ungodly hour and yet managed to be booked and busy the following day. No one knew how you did it, you just said it was you enjoying your youth. You thanked the universe for being blessed with beauty and brains, you weren't sure how you'd survive the life you were living.

You just never expected your habits to be this concerning that you had to have someone watch over you like the others watched over your home and parents. You were used to bodyguards... but never one who almost always showed up everywhere you went.

Toji felt like a glorified babysitter, and if it wasn't for how much your parents paid him, he would've never taken the job. He took his role seriously, he was a bodyguard and that's exactly what he did, especially when his salary was high, he had no questions. Just to protect. Even if the job was anything but easy.

He had been through a lot in his career, the many death threats, nearly taking god knows how many bullets... the scars he's earned. Yet, nothing seemed harder than watching a young woman who wanted to live her life freely and carelessly. Especially a young woman who was nothing but a flirt and a tease. Wanting nothing more than to have his attention rather than ignore his existence.

You, of course, never expected your personal body guard to be the sexiest man alive. Through and through. From head to toe. The dark, fringed hair. Those piercing green eyes that looked as if god got the exact colors of spring grass and replicated them in his irises. The build of his body, bigger than any man you had ever seen... so burly and strong. Arms so thick, muscles so wide. He was so broad, it made you salivate. You never liked men that were overly large. However, Toji? He was on another level. You wanted him. You needed him. No man ever made your mouth water or your body tingle the way this man did. All he did was watch after you, drag you home, and literally put you in your place. With the most indifferent expressions ever, almost never showing emotion even if there was a hint of annoyance in his tone when he scolded you.

Yet, you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes, his words entering one ear and exiting the other as you gazed up at him. Your focus would settle on the scar that decorated his lips, you licking your own as you itched to kiss him. He had no clue the power he had on you. You were love drunk, completely smitten, he was the man of your dreams. As pathetic as it sounded, you wanted to even marry him. He could yell at you all he wanted, saying how you worry your parents and that he isn't your babysitter, but you'd still gaze up at him with the most loving eyes.

Toji didn't know what he was going to do with you.

It's probably what got him in this situation in the first place.

He had stepped out to get some fresh air, processing the events that unraveled before him moments prior. Gathering his thoughts, trying to understand his feelings... trying to manage through all that had been going on that lead to this. He wasn't gone for long, just took a walk around the neighborhood to ease himself... he didn't expect to come back to your home with you completely missing.

He called your name several times, searching every inch of the house once he found your window open in hopes it was all a ploy. You were an actress, quite the attention seeker when it came to him. You lived to make his heart race and play with his head. You enjoyed the cat and mouse chase, but something told him this wasn't that. This wasn't a joke. This was serious. And he hated it.

"Cmon, answer me..." he grumbled, calling your cell phone, only to hear ringing coming from your bed. Shoving some of your pillows and plushies around, he growled. You left your phone behind. Did you actually leave out the window? It wasn't the first time... but you never left your phone behind.

Rubbing his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose and huffing, Toji recalled the events that lead to this very moment.

Your parents had been out of town for the weekend and you invited some of your friends over, sneakily stealing from their stash of liquor that wasn't so hidden. It was meant for gatherings or when either of them needed to lay back and relax. Your mother's best wine stacked up, your father's favorite whiskeys shelved. You couldn't recall how much you had consumed when Toji found you, kicking your friends out before handling you.

You were a bit of a klutz while tipsy, a clingy mess who couldn't seem to let go of Toji. Like a leach, latching onto him and giggling. Hiccuping as you slurred your words. You were quite the lightweight—or at least drank a little too much. Toji had dealt with a drunken you before, always handling you to make sure you didn't go home like this. He was your savior, quite the massive angel when he sobered you up enough to avoid your parent's disappointment and wrath. Another reason why you fell so hard for him.

Personal space wasn't a thing for you, you were all over him, hugging his arm, squeezing his bicep. Batting your lashes up to him, pressing your breasts against his side while dressed in that cute outfit that you'd sleep in. You had hoped to have your friends sleep over, but that didn't work out when Toji dismissed them. They were all used to him and never questioned him. Slightly annoyed, but they'd never cross a man like him. He was big and terrifying (and they knew you were head over heels for him).

It took everything in his power to keep things civil, asking you how much you had, trying to keep you from doing something you'd regret. However, that didn't stop you from pushing. You were persistent. You wanted what you wanted, and when you zeroed in on something, you'd stop at nothing.

Settling you down and giving you water, making sure you chugged it all as he went through his usual routine to get you sober, you just sat there, happily. Gazing up at him and beaming with the brightest smile, you thanked him for caring for you. Going as far as calling him a true gentleman. He knew what you were doing, it was nothing new. Sighing and running his hand through his hair, he took your hand and pulled you up to your feet, leading you to your bedroom to get some rest.

"Get some sleep, you need it," he said but you only whined.

"I'm not tired," you frowned, shaking your head stubbornly and crossing your arms like a child.

"You need to," he said sternly.

"Nuh uh! Not unless you join me," you grinned but Toji shook his head.

"No," he said your name in an almost warning tone.

"Why not?" You pouted once again. "Why are you so dismissive of my advancements, huh?"

"Because I'm a gentleman," he said, using your own words against you. This making your pout deepen as you huffed.

"I want you, Toji," you confessed, still frowning but looking away now.

"You're just a kid, you don't know what you want," he dismissed as you rolled your eyes. You've heard that plenty.

"I am not a kid, Toji. I know what I want and what I want is you." Without a second thought as Toji watched you stand on your bed, you grabbed the collar of his button down and tugged him in to you. Your lips slammed against his, not lasting any longer than a couple of seconds before Toji pushed you back.

He was in shock, heart racing and eyes wide with confusion. Not that he never saw it coming, but a part of him almost nearly didn't want you to stop. And that was dangerous. He couldn't even have an inkling of desire for you. You were his assignment. Nothing more, nothing less. You were a child compared to him. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her, barely in her 20s and kissing a man in his mid 30s. "Don't ever do that again," he warned as you blinked a few times, frowning and eyes watering. "Get some sleep, you're not thinking straight," he said before storming out, shutting your door a bit roughly behind him. Leaving you there hurt, confused, angry and heartbroken.

Snapping out of his thoughts at the not too distant memory that happened less than an hour prior, Toji cursed under his breath. He shouldn't have done any of that, shouldn't have handled the situation the way he had. Truth be told, he enjoyed your presence. He enjoyed your infatuation towards him. He liked that you were clingy and needy of his attention. It filled the void within him that he had struggled with for so long, using other women and gambling to cover it up. Who was he to have a girl like you by his side when he wasn't man enough? He wasn't the man for you. You deserved better. So much better. He wished you put the energy and effort you put into him, on to someone else. Someone more deserving. Someone more age appropriate. Not your bodyguard who was just a tamed assassin. A man who could kill and not feel an inkling of remorse.

Yet, here he was, blaming himself and chasing after you. He couldn't let anything happen to you. Couldn't let you get hurt. Not only would he lose his job and possibly his head, but he'd never forgive himself if something were to happen and he never saw you again. Wouldn't forgive himself if he never had the opportunity to clear the air. God, what were you doing to him? Never did he care this much about a client! Let alone, a woman!

You couldn't be too far, he came back right when it began to rain. If you were smart enough, you were hiding out somewhere to avoid him.

At least, he hoped.

Of course, you, in all your dramatic wisdom, were walking in the rain. Arms clutching to yourself, trembling at the cold and the lack of layers on. In nothing but your pajamas and slippers. You were being over the top, but your mind was so clouded. Not only by the alcohol, but the fact that the man you were madly in love with rejected you. Sees you as nothing more than a child when you weren't. Just because you liked to have fun in your youth. Why did you have to fall for him?

Crying as your head throbbed, barely able to focus on your surroundings, especially at a late hour like this one. You should've stayed home and just cried yourself to sleep. You were just so angry! You just wanted to leave and never see him again!

Suddenly, the sound of a booming voice shouting your name caught your attention. Looking over to see Toji exit his car and run after you, you quickened your pace. You wanted nothing to do with him, you didn't want to see his stupidly handsome face. You just wanted to be left alone, why couldn't he understand that?!

Yet, here you were, being chased by him. You knew you wouldn't get far, he was too skilled and you may have ran from him a few times in the past only to be snatched up each time. Of course, even with that lingering in your head, you still hoped maybe this time you could escape him. Even if all those other times you ran with the desire of him catching you. This time? You wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Only to trip over uneven pavement. Lovely.

Grunting and whimpering from the sudden impact, you were ready to force yourself up and keep going, only for him to snatch you up.

"Are you crazy?!" He shouted in your face, hands gripping your upper arms as he shook you. "Do you know what time it is?! Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been kidnapped or killed!"

Feeling your blood boil as you panted, you pressed your small palms against him, shoving him off of you. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Continuously trying to push him away, Toji wouldn't budge. Growing frustrated and antsy, you acted before you even thought, your palm meeting his cheek as you slapped him.

With a low snarl, Toji glared down at you, grinding his teeth. He couldn't understand why you were behaving this way, his denial towards you shouldn't have been such a big of a deal. It was a stupid crush, he was sure. Something shallow. So why did you continue to fight him?

Capturing your wrists and pinning your hands down as he pressed you against the light pole behind you, Toji hissed, "you need to start acting like a damn adult, not this childish bullshit—"

"Make me," you spoke through clenched teeth. You were shaking from both anger and the coldness of the late night showers. You looked deep into his eyes with, what could've been read as, deep hatred. He knew you didn't hate him, but you were furious.

Feeling his heart race from the adrenaline, skipping a sudden beat from your threat, hating how they suddenly triggered something within, Toji snarled. He felt pathetic knowing he was feeling something he shouldn't towards you, fighting everything in him to suppress whatever it was, being why he reacted so roughly. Like he always did. "Stop behaving like a fucking brat. Grow up. You're a 20 year old college student. Not a 15 year old girl with a crush on her teacher. Act your age and stop thinking the world revolves around you, like you're invincible, when there are those who care and worry about you—"

"Fuck you!" You snapped. "You don't care about me!"

"Who says I don't?! I'm literally right here!" He shouted.

"You're here because it's your job and so you can get paid!" You snapped back. "You don't care about me, not one bit! You never did! I was always just a paycheck! I hate that I fell in love with you!" Instantly regretting your words, realizing what you just said, you panicked. Looking absolutely mortified, you felt Toji's grip tighten around your wrists. You wanted to melt, puddle up and evaporate. Disappear from this universe. How could you let that slip?! Sure, you had an obvious crush but never love! At least, you wouldn't dare admit that!

Suddenly, you tried slipping from his grip, thrashing around to escape, punching his chest and telling him to let you go. Practically begging him to. Instead, he loosened his grip on one of your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair, angling your head as his lips collided with your own.

It was far more intense than any other kiss you've ever had, the way he was practically eating your face. Tongue nearly down your throat, stealing every breath you had, saliva spreading in a sloppy manner. You didn't even think, your body acting before you could as your hands reached into his hair. Gripping and tugging at the dark locks roughly. Biting his lip hard enough until he bled, Toji hissed and landed a harsh smack against your ass, earning a yelp from you.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked in what was possibly the lowest voice he could muster. As if it was filled with anger, annoyance, worry and... lust.

You couldn't even look at him, ashamed in yourself as you shook your head, speaking in the saddest voice, "I just want you to love me back..."

For once, Toji felt off guard, his eyes widening as his grip on you instantly loosened. His chest heaved as his heart thudded against his ribcage. It wasn't even pathetic the way you spoke, far from it. If anything, he felt bad that you wanted someone like from him. And he hated that a piece of him—a big one at that—wanted to give that to you. You did a number on him and you didn't even know it yet. Even in the rain his body felt like it was on fire, as if his skin would melt off. His mind was a mess, thinking about your confession and desires. How attached he's grown to you without truly realizing it. The interactions you've shared and the small advancements made. He hated that... a part of him knew he's fallen for you, too. Quite possibly since the first interaction when he told himself you were nothing more than a spoiled brat and to suppress those feelings... when, in reality, you were nothing but kind. A little wild and youthful, but you never did anything to make him hate you. Never did anything to make his job boring. You were a lot to handle but, he liked it. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase. He enjoyed you. But, god, did it feel so wrong for you to want a man like him with such a troubled past. With almost nothing to offer.

"Fuck..." he cursed under his breath as you suddenly looked at him with pure confusion. Blinking in bewilderment. "I'm taking you to my place." Without a second thought, he lifted you up and took you to his car, driving you to his place and knowing very well this could end terribly for the both of you.

But, he couldn't stop now, not with his hand on your thigh as he drove and not when he pulled you into his place when you two arrived. And definitely not when he stood before you, towering your figure as you looked up at him with those doe eyes that made him want to fucking melt.

"Do you really want me?" He asked. "If you're not sure you can take it I rather you just shower and take my bed before I do something I'd regret."

"Toji, I want you so badly, it hurts," you nearly whispered in desperation, not wanting to lose any chances of having him. He had no idea how fast he made your heart race (or made your inner thighs ache) in deep need for him.

Stalking towards you and cornering you as your back collided with a wall, Toji asked you once again, "are you sure?"

Nodding, you looked up at him with a shaky body, desperate to feel his touch. "Yes, please..."

Toji's hand instantly wrapped around your neck, thumb and pointer finger pressing against your jaw as he pulled you in. He lips smashed against yours, shoving his tongue past them with no hesitation. It felt like he was trying to consume you, exploring every inch your mouth had to offer, moans slipping past your part lips every time he'd sloppily kiss the corners of your mouth. The shared salvia smeared as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. Your knees were just about to give out, your heart pounding in your chest and humming in your ears. Toji's grip tightened as his free hand slipped under your now soaked camisole. Groping and squeezing at your left breast, thumb brush against your hardened nipple before he pinched it. You moaned slightly into his mouth, panting against him as his tongue intertwined with your own.

Easily lifting you up with one arm, he brought you to his bed, dropping you on it and wasting no time with undressing. He unbuttoned the dress shirt he wore, nearly tearing it off and doing the same with the shirt underneath. His shoes long gone as he tossed your slippers to a side. You sat up on your elbows, trying to catch your breath as you watched the god of a man strip before you. Sure, the suits he wore while on duty hugged his body painfully so, you knew this man was ripped. It was obvious with his towering size and broad shoulders... but to see him shirtless before you? Every line and curve, the shapes of his muscles bulging, the deep v cut and trail of hair that lead to what you needed most. You swore you were going to pass out. This was the man of your dreams, your soulmate, you knew it to be true. And now... you had him, nearly bare before you as he slipped off his pants and wore nothing but his black boxers.

Toji gripped your ankles and tugged you close as you looked up at him, wide eyed and lips parted. Your chest heaved as he crawled over you, hand pressing against the back of your head, pulling you into a slightly gentler kiss. He still chased after your lips, still desired to taste you, but he wasn't trying to swallow you whole this time. Not that you would mind. You'd give him everything if you could.

His large hands gripped your waist as he adjusted himself, straddling you and leaning on his heels before reaching for the hem of your top. Eyeing you and the haze that fogged your eyes, he took in a sharp breath. "Are you sure about this?" Hearing you hum, he shook his head. "No, I need to hear you say it."

"Yes, Toji... Please..." you begged, voice nearly cracking in desperation and need of him.

Taking in a deep breath, eyeing you once more, he lifted your top a bit to reveal your body, stopping midway before he could expose your breasts. "I won't stop until you tell me to."

"I won't," you shook your head stubbornly. "I need you."

Letting out a small huff as his head dropped, grip tightening around your top, itching to just rip it off and tear you apart, Toji bit down. You weren't like the other women, never would be, he wasn't going to just fuck you without a care. He had some decency. At least, when it came to you. He'd never admit to himself why.

Lifting your top off and dropping it to a side, Toji took your body in, your curves and every little mark that were unique to you—whether it was a scar or freckle—it was as if he was mapping your skin. You were squirming, whether it'd be desperation, anxiety, or insecurity, Toji dove in. He gave your breasts the attention they deserved, taking one in his mouth and the other occupied in his bear paw of a hand. He licked at the skin as his fingers teased your other nipple, biting and breathing against the wet skin, making you tremble beneath him.

He switched positions, moaning into your mounds in a sound you've never heard before. If you had to guess, by the way he gave your chest so much focus, how he sucked at them as if they were his life force, and the way he was basically humping you... you'd say Toji was a boob guy. Through and through, no matter the size, he just loved the feeling of the supple flesh in his hands, in his mouth... his aching dick between them, even. If you knew any better, and if Toji lost all self control, he definitely would've fucked them.

But not now, not this time. It was his first time with you, he needed to learn your body. Explore every inch of it. What turns you on, what makes your eyes roll back, what has you seeing stars.

Toji gripped at your shorts, tugging them down and tossing it onto your matching top. Kissing down your belly, nibbling along the way and leaving marks in his wake, Toji found himself nestled between your thighs. God, if there was something he loved more than boobs were a woman's thighs. Thick or not, he loved them, loved having them wrapped around his neck, suffocating him. If he had a way to go, it would be by them.

Kissing your inner thighs, making it to the apex of them, the scent of your arousal was driving him insane. It felt as if he couldn't control himself, grip tightening around your waist as his finger tips dug into your flesh. Not seeming to care of you had a barrier blocking him, Toji buried his face further into you, nose nudging your clothed clit as you shuddered. The shock that was sent throughout your body made your heart race faster as you watched him. It was like he was in a trance, even with your panties still on.

Burying his nose further into you as you trembled, Toji couldn't help but lick against the cloth, tongue nudging your bundle of nerves as your legs shook. "You better not muffle your sounds, I wanna hear it all," he warned as he looked at you, you instantly nodding. Grinning, he yanked your panties off before he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. Your pussy, in all its glory, bare before him. He couldn't help but grin at the sight, the scent driving him mad as he found himself rutting against the mattress. Truly, a woman's body was his ultimate weakness.

Purposefully tossing your panties in a different direction to keep for himself (for future—personal—use, of course), Toji dove in. He didn't even bother to give a single warning. Open mouthed, practically making out with your pussy, your head fell back as you began to squirm. Your moans grew louder the further Toji teased you. With every lick and every suck of your clit, to the prodding of your hole with his tongue, you felt as if you forgot to breathe.

Your thighs were clenching against his head, Toji's grip tightening to prevent you from suffocating him (even if he wanted to welcome it). The sounds were disgusting in a way that turned you. It was almost painful, how good it felt. The way he worked you open with just his tongue, slurping every bit of your essence that leaked. It didn't take Toji long to figure out how to make you come. It wasn't going to be the only time, anyway.

You felt completely spent, lying almost limp before him. You should've known this man was an expert, but a part of you... that was rather innocent, had believed it was going to happen once when he was in you. Of course, you should've know once wasn't enough. No. Not when he introduced his thick fingers, spreading you open, pumping deeply into you as he watched you squirm. He was nearly getting off to it, the way you panted and moaned his name, smaller hands gripping at his sheets as your toes curled. He grinned to himself, licking his scar as he pushed your legs further apart, pumping his fingers faster into you, proud of himself for making you come a second time.

"Look at me," he demanded as your eyes fluttered open. Hooded and exhausted. You watched as he slipped his two fingers out of you, soaked in your release. He watched them in awe as you squirmed in embarrassment. Toji only made it worse when he brought them into his mouth, sucking with an obnoxious groan. It was then you noticed the painful bulge tenting in his underwear, an obvious wet spot that had formed. Did he get off... to you getting off?

"Fuck... 'm not gonna get used to that. Best I've ever had. So fucking good," he breathed as you took in deep breaths. "I think you're ready f'r me."

Gulping as he stood up to strip his underwear, an audible gasp left your lips as you eyed his cock. The tip red and leaking. Oh, you definitely weren't going to handle that. It was monster sized, there was no way no amount of prep would prepare you for the girth of his size.

"Don't worry, I'll make it fit," he smirked, the twitch of his scarred lip making you let out an uncontrollable moan. He was hot and he knew it... and somehow that made it all the better.

Kneeling before you and gripping your thighs, parting them and aligning himself with you, he reached in between and coated his length with your juices, pumping a few times before pushing into you. A gasp got caught in your throat as you nearly choked. Just barely in and you were squirming. "It's— Too big!"

"Too big? You were so desperate earlier," he nearly whispered, voice low and sending a chill down your spine. He pulled back and pushed further in, the stretch stinging and bringing tears to your eyes as you bit your bottom lip. "You can take it."

"Too much— 's too much," you breathed, hand gripping his forearms as if it would stop him.

Instead, Toji laughed, pulling back and pushing in. Thrusting in and out at a steady peace to let you adjust to his size—until he began to reach deeper. Feeling as if you couldn't breathe, Toji leaned into you. Fucking you slowly and deeply, he left open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulders, biting the skin and leaving his mark behind. He couldn't help but lick at you, the sweat that was beading on your skin. You were intoxicating, he couldn't seem to have enough. All the little sounds, how you moaned his name. The way you begged. How your legs wrapped around him, keeping him in deep even if you cried that he was too much.

He lifted his head enough to kiss you, tongue meeting tongue as he moaned into your mouth. God, it was all so much, yet... not enough. You wanted more, your body craved him. Your nails clawed at his back as your heels dug into him. He bit and sucked your bottom lip, lifting himself to look at your fucked out face. Swollen lips, teary cheeks, sprawled out hair soaked from the rain. You were an angel straight from heaven sent to him. He couldn't get enough. He needed more. More more more.

Licking your tears away, deepening his thrusts as he grunted in your ear, your eyes rolled back, seeing galaxies the way his cock reached so deeply into you. You were sure he was going to mold himself against you. "Toji— I— I'm—" you were at a loss for words, mind going blank as you felt that chord within you snap. You came so hard, body trembling and overstimulated that you cried out while pulling at his hair. Toji rode it out, caressing your head and praising you as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

"You did so good, so good. My good girl. You did so good," he praised as you trembled beneath him. Feeling his own orgasm building up, Toji eyed you and nearly came at the sight of your fucked out face. He fucked you dumb, he was sure there was no thoughts in that little head of yours. "In or out?"

"In— In..." you breathed, eyes barely able to stay open as your hands fell limp against his back, lost in his locks as you tried catching your breath.

"Look at me," he said as you gulped, eyes fluttering open. He kept his focus locked on you, thrusting a few more times before stilling, coming deeply within your womb without looking away. It was almost the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You weren't sure how he did it, so enthralled by those emerald eyes, you were afraid that you'd do whatever he said with how hypnotized you were.

Staying in you for a moments worth as his forehead pressed against your own, breathing each other in, Toji pulled out, earning a whine from you. Nearly flopping on his back, catching his breath as his heart raced, he rolled to his side and snuck a hand in between your legs, feeling the way his come was leaking from you before he gathered it and plugged his finger into you. You let out a small cry, turning your face to hide into his chest.

"Can't let any of it go to waste, can we?" He asked as you shook your head. Toji moved to leave kisses down your thigh as he pulled his hand away, lifting your legs enough to eye the way his seed pooled beneath you. All the guilt was out the window with how clouded his mind was. Having you this way, you giving yourself to him even if it was all so very wrong.

He hated to admit, he doesn't remember the last time he had sex like this that wasn't a way just to fulfill himself and only himself. Instead, he was getting off to you. Getting off to the way he made you feel. Especially that blissed out expression on your face... If only he could fuck you again and again and again until—

Toji stopped himself there before the thoughts got worse. You were spent, exhausted and probably unable to move a single limb. He had to clean the both of you up. "C'mon, can't stay like this, as much as I'd love to." Patting your thigh as you groaned, he leaned in and left a few more kisses against your lips, you lazily reciprocating them.

Toji lifted you in his arms and brought you to his shower. Your body was shaking and legs were surely weak. He made sure the water was warm enough for the two of you, helping clean one another in sluggish movements (more from you and your exhaustion). Toji dried you up after, wrapping a towel around his waist as he helped ruffle your hair with the towel and dress you in one of his shirts. He sat you on his couch with a cup of water as he changed his bedsheets. Bringing you back to the bed, cuddling up against one another as you tried to morph into him, desperate for his warmth, you nuzzled his bare chest. His scent was intoxicating, your eyes falling heavy as you felt your body being carried away into your world of dreams.

"I'm so thankful you're my first," you mumbled sleepily. Toji's once droopy eyes shot open.

"I was... your first?" He asked with all sorts of hesitation. You were a virgin... and he took your virginity?

"Mhm... I was saving myself for someone special enough. Guess that was you," you said before falling asleep, deep enough to not have an inkling that your words would be the reason why Toji hardly slept that night.

Toji took you home the following day bright and early before your parents returned from their business trip. You freshened up and felt a sense of ease and happiness that you've never felt before. Ready to return back to Toji to say your goodbyes as he spoke to your parents, you found yourself hiding behind a wall as your heart skipped a beat and smile dropped at his words.

"I apologize for the late notice but I'll need to take a leave of absence. I already have a few people lined up that can take over my position," Toji said. "I'll give you their contacts."

"What happened? Is everything alright?" Your father asked.

"It's personal reasons I rather not disclose, but I assure you these people can watch over your daughter at a level almost nearing mine."

"I hope all is well, thank you for all you've done for us. Will we be seeing you again?" Your mother asked.

It was what felt like hours before Toji spoke up again, leaving you with a heavy heart that dropped to your feet at his last words, "I am unsure," he admitted. "I wish nothing but the best for you."

Those last words weren't directed towards your parents, it was almost as if Toji knew you were listening. Was he really abandoning you after last night? Did your confession mean nothing to him? Did he... use you? Your bottom lip began to quiver as your eyes pooled up at his last words:

"Take care."

#haruno writes;#jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 2 months

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DP X DC PROMPT #25

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Family Reunion

Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.

Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.

He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.

He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.

He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.

He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"

"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."

"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"

Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.

Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.

The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.

Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.

He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.

He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.

✦

(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!

(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.

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peachesofteal · 11 months

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Mermaids

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/mermaid!reader 8.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dark themes. Magical beings eating human hearts. Magic. Blood, Violence. Explicit sex. Blood kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Dubious consent. Possessive Simon Riley. "And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart" - F+TM

It begins early this year.

Earlier than usual, when your hunting ground in the mortal world was just starting to turn green, shaking its frosted and frozen branches free to make room for bright blooms and emerald leaves. Just as the steps of Brighton Pier changed from ice slick ledges to waterlogged, weeping wooden planks, and human clothing shifted from long coverings that protected their fragile membranes from the bitter wind to soft and flowing fabrics that allowed their bodies to breathe.

This time of the year the mortal world was alive. Full of rebirth and growth, strong and vibrant.

Vibrant, like the song that began early this year, the frequency echoing deep below the water’s surface to where you waited for its pull. The siren song of a true treasure, far beyond any other, the melody of your chosen, the ebb and flow of the rhythm that is not unlike the sea. The siren song of a mortal’s heart, the cacophony able to reach you and your sisters far below the swell and crash of the ocean, far beyond where the light ceases, the melody possessing the ability to pull you to the surface once a year.

Once a year, to hunt.

One a year, to dance and drink and fall in love, if only for a night.

Once a year, to sacrifice a human heart.

Your eldest sister holds you tight to her body in an embrace as the sun rises. Elegant fingers fuss with your hair, smoothing and tugging and pulling, a vain attempt at taming something wilder than her own heart. Her face is grim, a black void that reflects no joy or excitement, just dread. It is a mirror of yourself. It is a pain that you know too well.

“What bothers you?”

You are the last two left on the beach. The others have all gone, eager to stretch their legs and seek their own songs, the trill of the blood bubbling up in their veins, their bodies pulled like magnets to the source. One heart, one song, one human male for each sister, poor mortals who have no idea what awaits them today, their ignorance bliss on the last night of their lives. Your sisters, as well as you, all live for this night. The joy of the love, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of the ichor that sustains you. The anticipation of this night fills your dreams with swirls of violent songbird chords and sweet melodies of affection. It is all you talk about for cycles, leading up to the day when you leave the water at sunrise and your tail shifts and shatters to reveal two very human looking legs.

“I am weary.” She tells you plainly, an announcement that does not come as a surprise. You have watched how she fades. Watched her linger in the darkness of the caves, watched her float lifelessly on slow currents, gaze hollow, vigor lost. “My song is faint.” She pushes further, holding your hand tightly as she releases you from her embrace. “I think I may not take a heart this year.” But we must. Must we? It was a question unanswered, but one that plagued you both. How else could you live, if not for these sacrifices?

“You would choose to die.” You surmise and she gives you a curt nod, as if it is obvious. As if her admission does not rattle you down to your very bones. Perhaps you too, one day, would make this choice. Would choose not to hunt. Choose not to love and lose. The notion pains you, fills you with sorrow as it has for many, many years. This was not an unknown feeling, even though you still experienced the joy, the bliss of your hunting, of the harvesting, you still felt the pang of loss every time, stronger and stronger as the years ticked by.

“It aches now, knowing I will fall in love this night, just for it to end as the sun rises.” The sea crashes onto the beach behind the two of you, and her lips part with a smile before she leans in to graze a kiss along your cheek. “Happy hunting, my sister.”

The song encourages you onward, leading you through a maze of streets and buildings while the sun rises and lingers in the sky. You comb the city for your male, following the electric hum of the song through alleys and neighborhoods, stopping to enjoy the day, your one day on land, as often as you can. You relish in the things that are rare for you, the taste of coffee and human food, the smell of flowers in the park, the feel of grass on the bare pads of your feet. The dress you’ve chosen flutters in the breeze, allowing the cool air to caress your skin softly, and the sun beams down on your exposed limbs, warming you under its light as you indulge in mortal world. It is nice, you decide while you bask in its rays, to feel the sun as humans do. Such spoiled creatures, being so close to something that gives so much life.

That same sun begins to sink lower behind the skyline and you’re still mindlessly gazing at small insects and diving birds when your heart trills, the force of the song slamming between your ribs, a smattering of warning bells going off within you. He’s close, your blood croons, so, so close. The incessant rattle, the insistent pull is enough to bring you to your feet and anxiously smooth the wrinkles of your clothing, eyes darting wildly around while you hunt for the source, feet flying beneath you. So close, so close.

You come to a stop in front of a pub where a black door is propped open, music and revelry echoing from inside. Here. He’s here. The supersonic vibrato that hums in your own blood draws you into the dimly lit bar, and you hear the song in his veins grow even stronger when you step through across the threshold. He is not hard to find, this close, and your magic strings out before you, weaving and seeking past the bodies that dance closely on the floor, each as desperate for one another as you have grown for your mortal and his song.

He stands in the back, half covered by shadow, the dark pitch of the room matching his clothes and the mask he wears over most of his face. Everything about him is bigger than the males that have called to you in the past, his height, his arms, the width of his shoulders, even the feeling of him in this place. Everywhere you venture, every spot you position yourself in, you feel his eyes on you. He is unusual, and watches, from his vantage point, his companions, other humans, the bartender.

You perch atop a barstool on the opposite side of the room to study him. His eyes carry a ferocity, a heaviness of emotion that stirs the blood running through your own veins until it is pounding in your ears. The severity of him nearly intimidates you, the level of his awareness, the pools of his amber rich brown eyes occasionally flicking over to where your fingers wrap around a glass of beer, the heat of his gaze searing away at your skin underneath the dress. The mask confuses but does not caution you, and your own heart now beats in time with his due to your proximity. Handsome. You muse to yourself, caught up in tracing the outline of his cheekbones. Beautiful, in a dark way.

There is something about him. Something ruinous, something different. Something you cannot name.

It is of no consequence. You are the huntress. You will have your prize, your immortality, the taste of his heart on your tongue. His death becomes your life. His love, his heart, becomes yours, for eternity.

But how nice, might it be, to keep this one? It is an impossible thought, a dreamless idea, but one that still crosses your mind. The fantasy of falling in love for eternity, of having more than one night, more than the blood and violence that follows, more than the loss that would sustain you. If it were to be one, you know you’d choose this one. Your thoughts stray to your sister for a moment, imagining her alone beneath the surface, mourning the centuries of life she has lived, the centuries of love she has lost. Did she know this feeling? This hopelessness, this despair. Your lips tug downward as you consider her words. It aches. It aches, knowing I will fall in love this night, only for it to end as the sun rises. Gloom washes through you, your own yearning itching inside your soul, your desperation for your human itching at your skin. It aches. It aches, it ach-

“Hello.” Someone says from behind you, a deep, distinct voice, and you snap upwards, straightening your posture to turn into the body that crowds you. You jerk backwards on the stool when you realize how close he is, the action unsettling you from your seat, and you slip forward, nearly falling free from your wooden perch. Balance on land is difficult, and yours is perpetually off, a skill you've never mastered. A massive hand wraps around your elbow to right you, gently steadying you, and your jaw goes slack when you finally look up.

It's him.

“Hi.” You smile, trying to recover from your less than graceful impression. Your heart thunders in your chest, and the melody inside him screams for you.

“I’m Ghost.” He motions to your mostly empty beer and raises his completely barren one in return. “Buy you another?”

The indulgent smile that scrawls across your face is practically involuntary as you give your answer.

“Sure.”

His name isn’t Ghost, but he keeps his true name close and won’t give it to you. You give him a nickname, one you usually use on land, and he doesn’t bat an eye, even when you tell him it’s a pet name and not your real one with a wink. The name Ghost doesn’t strike you as odd, after learning what he does, why he keeps it tucked away, and you marvel at him while he tells gives you bits and piece of himself, occasionally peeling his mask up to drink. He’s a solider, a Lieutenant in a special task force, some of which he happens to be out with tonight. He likes bourbon, specifically from a certain region in America, and he smells like the forest. You lean closer, completely unable to stop yourself, inhaling as deeply as you can, breathing in the mossy, earthy, green scent that hovers in the air around him. It was heady, and endless, and wrapped you in a dizzying cocoon of memories that you couldn’t place, but clearly envisioned. Forests, teeming with life and glowing chartreuse from top to bottom, oceans with aquamarine waters, shallow pools for you to bathe in under the sun, the water crisp and cold, your skin eagerly soaking it up its potent brine. Sapphire skies, the beaches stretching on and on, their seas fathomless, their bounties endless. You push closer, nosing as near as you can to his skin and take a lungful of the air. Strange. You knew humans wore things to mask or change their scents, but had never encountered one so… affecting.

“Alright, love?” He brushes the lightest contact of his fingers against yours, and you straighten, eyes ducking down in embarrassment.

“Yes, sorry. I- I was… distracted.”

Unusual indeed.

One drink turns to many, and you carefully note how Ghost’s posture becomes more relaxed, shoulders less tense as the two of you indulge. He continues to surveil the room, observing and cataloguing, and you find it dangerously appealing, how in tune he is to his surroundings. How vigilant. Your hand lays gently on his thigh when you can no longer hold off the desire for physical touch, and he inclines his head to speak above your ear, the warmth of his cheek behind the fabric pressed casually to your head.

“D’ya want to go somewhere else?” Yes. You nod, and he motions to his group before excusing himself, his large body cutting a path through the packed room like he’s parting the sea.

You note the couplings around the bar as Ghost approaches his companions, leaning down to speak to one who is seated, legs spread wide on a faux velvet chair. He has a mohawk, and cerulean blue eyes that trace you from head to toe after Ghost begins to walk back towards where you're seated. You break the eye contact hastily, observing the others, pity pulling on your heart strings over a distraught female who sits in a corner, watching another with longing. The state of her broken heart is written all over face, her body rife with grief. The object of her affection, another stunningly beautiful female, dances with a different mortal, her artfully woven hair spiraling from her shoulders in tune to the way she moves her body. They have it so hard, you think. The song does all the work for us. You never have to woo your mortals, just provide them with the opportunity to find you. The song pushes them to seek you out, drives them to near madness unless they are in your company. They don’t always love you back, as you love them, certainly. But you never have to vie for their attention, never have to posture for their affection.

A large hand takes yours, warm and beating with the pulse of his heart, the rhythm of the song.

“Ready?” You open your mouth to say yes but nothing comes out, and the feeling of dread, the ache swamps you for a passing second. I think I may not take a heart this year. All you can do is nod.

As he leads you through the crowd, you cannot help but reach forward with your free hand and clasp onto the dancing woman. She pauses, eyes lighting wantonly when she sees you, but you push a sprinkle of magic through her, sparking desire in the base of her consciousness for the mournful dove in the chair.

You don’t look back at either of them as you leave, and silently pray to no one that they find happiness in love, that they relish it and keep one another, if only for you.

You bring him to the beach, as is your custom. It was where you felt safest, closest to the ocean, it’s where your power felt most pure should you need it, should something go wrong. You shiver at the thought, shoving down the memories that threaten your balance, and you clutch Ghost’s hand.

“Come down here often?” He inquires and you shrug, a response you know mortals are fond of.

“I like it here.” You offer, and he hums in acknowledgement. You tug him towards the overhang of the pier, where the shadows will shield you, where no one dares to venture. The only light comes from the moon, it’s silver glow glittering dimly through worn wooden pier slats, and you watch it catch his eye, his pupil expanding and contracting as you step closer and closer. “I want to kiss you.” you implore. “Will you remove your mask?” The song. You’re depending on the song to help you with this, depending on his desire, the power of the melody in his veins to urge him to comply with your request, and when he tilts his head like he’s considering you, you hold your breath.

It happens quickly. He removes the mask in a fluid motion, and then his lips are upon yours, hot and seeking, tongue exploring your mouth while yours opens for him, your body clenching with dizzying desire at the feel of his touch against your skin.

“I knew it.” You gasp when you pull away and trace the fine point of a fingernail down his jaw. “I knew you were breathtaking under there.” He chuckles.

“Happy you think so.”

Your mouths melt together as he holds you around the waist, your bodies getting closer and closer until you can feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans, feel the scorching heat of him through his clothes. You are desperate for this mortal, your desire to feel him moving inside of you nearly as strong as the lust you feel to taste his heart. You sink to the sand together, a dance of limbs and movements that have you panting astride him when he settles, propped up on his elbows.

“Simon.” He says mid breath. “That’s my name. Want ya to have it.” Simon.

“Simon.” You whisper it, and he nods before pulling you back to him, two large palms cradling your face like you’re a delicate creature. It makes you feel special, makes you feel cherished, like you’re something gentle to be treasured, and not a monster out for his life. You kiss him tenderly, one more time, as softly as you can manage, your heart trembling inside your chest, before your teeth bite into his lip, the ferocious intensity of the act returned by him, his mouth meeting yours full force. You bite again, and this time his flesh gives way, bright, mineral rich blood bubbling from the tiny cut and you eagerly lap at it, the ichor coating your tongue and exploding across your senses. He laughs, the echo of it rumbling deep in his chest, and you place your hand against his heart greedily, the vigor of its beating nearly making your eyes roll back into your head. The length of his cock throbs between your legs, where only the fabric of his jeans separates you, and you rut against him helplessly. Sparks ignite between you, your body shuddering when his hands hook into your hip, strong grip guiding your movements against him. Your magic swells inside of you, and your head spins.

Take him, take him. Take his heart, take his song. Have him, his love, his heart, for eternity, forever.

You push him onto his back, dress rucked up around your hips, fabric pooling around the two of you.

“I want you.” you tell him, fingers fussing with his clothes, encouraging him to strip his shirt free and then unbutton his jeans. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and sloppy but you can’t find a care. You’re too filled with want, overflowing with desire for your mortal, your desperation mounting as he stills you, tracing a finger over your ribs and then down your pubic bone to where your slick, silken folds wait to be touched.

“Simon.” you whisper his name again, the word close to begging, and he shushes you, swirling a finger down where you’re leaking, circling the swollen bud of your clit with agonizing strokes that fill your senses with electricity.

“Shhh. I know what you need.” He soothes, and deftly pushes a finger inside of you, stroking along your walls. You shiver, face dropping into the crook his neck, and he turns his head so that the soft puff of his breath wafts over your skin as you whimper. “Does that feel good?” He asks, pressing another inside, his thumb flicking over your clit in lackadaisical patterns. You moan, body welcoming his touch, and you nip at the skin of his shoulder, eager to tear it apart, to taste his blood again. His other hand pushes at the back of your head, until your teeth are flush with his skin. “Go on.” He urges, and your eyes slip closed with bliss while you break the thin membrane, blood pooling to the surface as he lets out a small grunt. Your tongue swirls in it, painting his skin ruby, and you drag your lips downward, over where his heart pounds wildly in his chest. For you. It pounds for you. It sings for you.

“I need you inside me.” He pulls at the straps of the dress, divesting you of the top, exposing your breasts to the cool air and silver light of the moon. His thumb rolls one of your nipples and you feel for him, already free from his under garment, the things humans wear under their outside clothes, and you swallow when you feel the size in your fingers.

You sink down onto him with a hiss, body stretching for the intrusion, cunt spasming around the width and length as it fights to make room. He pets your hip soothingly, and you sit straight up, letting out a cry when you feel the true length of his cock inside you, the absolute fullness of it nearly seated in your belly. When you look back down, your eyes trace the smear of blood from his lips and shoulder, and your tongue darts out against your own skin, seeking the flavor of ichor that waits on the corner of your mouth.

Something glitters in his eyes, something shifting as if he finally recognizes the danger he’s in. Even here, with you astride him, split open his cock, hips stuttering in slow circles, wariness flexes across his face as if he knows, finally, that he is the prey and you the predator.

“It’s okay, do not be afraid.” You reassure him, stroking a fingernail over his breastbone, to where his heart flutters beneath your touch. He blinks, eyes blissfully blank, the firm grip of his hand on your hip relaxing before he says:

“Will you not tell me your name?” A long sigh slips between your teeth. Mortals. So hung up on familiarity. But how could you refuse a dying man his last request? Your lips kiss the shell of his ear as you give it to him, the point of your fingernail pressing into his delicate flesh, desperate to seek the strong muscle beneath, the song in his blood echoing through your own bones with supersonic vibration. The sounds and colors of the mortal realm all increase, too bright, too loud, everything shaking like the earth is suddenly trembling and then-

Something snaps inside of you. Magic, raw and powerful, a force unlike anything you’ve ever felt spills into you, your body being washed over with the rush of floodwaters, your heart and blood now singing for him, yearning for him, desperate to be consumed by him.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

The claim burns beneath your skin, your magic twisting away into something completely new, something more powerful as your mind grapples with the changing reality.

In the next moment, you’re spinning, tumbling through the air until you’re on your back, splayed beneath him, hands trapped at your sides. Your legs are folded underneath the width of his torso, your body opened for him just so, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, stretching the slick walls of your cunt with each punishing thrust.

“I-“ the words are cut off sharply when he seals his mouth to yours, teeth gnashing and gnawing down from your lips to your jaw and then up to you ear.

“You,” He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust, and you gasp. “are mine, little huntress.” It is a vow, snarled through clenched teeth, and your own body betrays you by tightening around him, eager and willing to be claimed. The air is hot, humid and electric with magic, the burning effects of your error travelling through your every vein, every cell of skin. The utterance of your name, the act of your own foolishness strings heavily between you, while your body tenses underneath him.

“Simon.” You breathe and he only nods, holding your cheek in a gentle palm, stroking a loving touch across your face.

“Sweet little Nereid...” He names your kind with a growl, and your heart slams in your chest, his cock thrusting into your cunt wildly, desperately. “More beautiful than the sea herself.” The laugh is crooned, like the satisfying scratch of a needle against a record, and his fingers stroke your clit while he presses himself to you, your hips pinned beneath his weight, your body immobile. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” He smiles darkly, lips curling with sinister satisfaction, and you feel the cold hand of fate reaching into your own chest cavity, rooting around in your soul until magic is searing across your skin, a bending and scraping feeling digging underneath your ribs, your own magic twisting and clawing until it burns away into something new, something changed, something imbued with him.

No. It’s not possible.

“You… you’re-“

“Yes.”

Simon cares little for the mortal realm. It’s pace and its noise and its scents are all cloying to him, obnoxious and foreign, the general rush of its inhabitants and their lack of care for their world offensive to him and his kind. They do not care for their realm, and do not take care of it ether, instead choosing to let it rot and fester beneath their feet, their drive and determination to outdo one another single handedly responsible for the destruction of most of their world. They call it something here, 'capitalism', like naming it will excuse it, while Simon just calls it murder, and greed.

Mortals and their extreme indifference do allow him certain things, however. Their love of violence and obsession with wealth put even the most well-off of his kind to shame at times. His kind loved things that shone, certainly. But mortals? They loved things that bled. It was this lust for power, this ravenous streak of greed that gave him the opportunity to position himself as he has.

As a hunter. A killer. A ghost.

Simon had been hunting for the thing he loved for a very, very long time.

And tonight, he was finally going to bring you home.

The first time Simon saw you; over a century ago, it was beneath Brighton Pier. You had a human male panting after you as you walked beneath the wooden overhang, your hand cupping his cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love. Simon, and the man, were both entranced by your beauty, the way your body moved under the night sky, how your skin seemed to glitter against the sand. Simon watched as you led him to where the moon couldn’t reach, beneath the shield of the slats, the dark of the evening hiding you from all prying, curious eyes, except for his.

He watched you take the male inside your body, watched you lavish your tongue across his neck and chest, watched your lips form sweet words of reassurance and honey while you tasted his blood. He watched the nails of your fingers gleam in the low light, watched them sharpen and then dig, scratching and clawing beneath the threads of the male’s skin, until you held an ichor rich organ in your palm, a complex system of vessels and ventricles, it’s sinew glowing red beneath your touch. He stood in awe as you devoured it, your feeding turning into a frenzy as you consumed it piece by piece, the male bleeding out and dying slowly, all while still buried inside your cunt.

After your feast, you dragged the male’s lifeless body down the sand to the water with you, where you pulled it beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Surprised, and intrigued, he stood at the water’s edge, watching the tide that was tinged red lap calmly at the shore. He knew humans had a taste for blood, but this was another desire onto itself. What were you?

The following year, Simon couldn’t help but return to the same area in hopes of spotting you again, the creature unknown to him, a mystery begging to be unraveled. You appeared at dawn on the same day, with a horde of others, who then dispersed into the city and surrounding areas, following the sound of a song he could not hear. He became a creature obsessed, tracking your every movement, watching your every hunt and sacrifice. He stood in the dark while you made love to the mortals whose lives you would take, watched you hunt with wild abandon, watched you enjoy the small, tiny things in your eternal life that others often overlook. He began to know you, began to learn what you liked and didn't, began to learn what made you smile.

You became the brightest spot in his own too long existence, the yearly reminder of love, of vitality, of life. He loved you, desperately, recklessly so. His dreams were filled with soft, sweet visions of you, bloody moments of passion and adoring, lingering kisses that he swore he could still feel when he woke.

It took time, too long of a time, before he discovered who, or what, you were. He spent a century trying to learn how to lure you to the surface. Simon tore apart libraries, bargained favors across dimensions, granted wishes and wove powerful spells just to trade for information on you and your sisters, the Nereids, the lasting remnant of a forgotten power, reclusive magic lurking inside the deepest depths, a realm inside a realm, never to be discovered unless you wished it so. And even then, the additional answers he sought were scarce.

Every year, he returned to the human realm to see you, tucking himself away in cloaks of magic and darkness so that he could creep as close as possible to you. Every year, he watched you hunt, watched you capture your prey effortlessly and consume their heart. He watched you shed a tear for them. Watched your drag their corpses down the beach to the sea, where you carried them into the water with you before disappearing all together.

Eventually, time began to change you. He watched you regard your lovers, your mortals with callousness, and cruelty. He watched you treat them with tenderness, and adoration, caring for them, making their ends sweet and soothing their fears. He watched you stand on the beach for hours at dawn and try to fight the urge to hunt. He burned to take you away from this world, to sever you from your ocean, bring you home to him, but your kind did not live in his realm. He was unsure how to sustain your life, and the search for answers was slow. Years went by, and the soft dreams that he had always welcomed turned to nightmares, fueled by the fear he’d lose you before he even had the chance to try to bring you home.

A decade ago, he watched you falter. Your body trembled as you took your sacrifice, your cries so hysterical he was certain you’d draw the entire block to where you hid in the shadow of someone’s gaff. His own body was rigid with tense, untethered magic that sought to lash out, and he was rife with worry that you’d give yourself away, you’d be caught by some mortal force and unable to return to the sea when the sun rose. The fear he felt was unreasonable, uncontainable. He'd level the city to protect you, to keep you safe, and he nearly did. He almost took you, that night. Was quite close, so close that he was crossing the street in front of vehicles and preparing to pull you into his realm when you composed yourself and completed your harvest, the glowing organ in your hands proof of your will to live, to love.

He rarely left the mortal realm after that. Only to seek his final answer and solidify his plan, his masquerade as the masked Ghost allowing him to exist in the realm indefinitely, giving him the availability to be close for when the time was right, for when you would be ready.

A year ago, you were the last to return to the water, your steps slow and clumsy, your eyes tired and weepy. You appeared satisfied, but as you looked back on the city from the shoreline, he saw the hint of desolation in your eyes, the shadow of dejection haunting your face.

It was more than enough, to spring him into action. More than enough, to find your promised mortal for next year and steal his song, bringing it into himself by a small piece of blood magic, something so simple and obvious Simon cursed himself for not realizing sooner.

This morning, as he observed you and your sister on the beach, he knew he had been right. He could see it in your face. The pain of sadness, of loss twisting your elegance into an ache, those feelings compounded by the admission of your eldest sibling. This could be your last hunt.

It was time to bring you home. Forever.

“That her then?” Johnny nods, indicating he’s looking the same direction as Simon, watching you walk down the curb, paper coffee cup clutched in your hands, face smiling at the sun.

“Yes.” Simon answers, shifting uncomfortably. The bloody song has been heating his flesh for weeks, boiling in his veins and driving him practically mad. Nymph magic. Its incessant hum has been battling his own power, jockeying for position as it worked to pull you to the surface. Combined with his own, he wasn’t surprised it possessed the ability to bring you up earlier than normal, encouraging you and your sisters through the depths and to the shore. If his blood was singing, then so was every other poor sod’s in this city.

You cross the street into the park, dress swaying around your hips, and he indulgently stares at the form of your body, the set of your shoulders, the texture of your hair. He closes his eyes to breathe, reaching into himself to get a handle on the battle of will going on in his blood, the warring magic factions pushing and pulling beneath his skin, begging to be let out, trying to lash out. Soon. He reassures himself. She will be with him soon.

He can smell you from here. You’re ripe. Overflowing, your scent is like a flickering ocean breeze, briny and cold but full of life, of promise. You’re ready, ready to be taken from this awful realm, ready to be bent underneath his body, ready to be crying on his cock as you come while he floods your womb with himself and his power, tying you to him for all eternity.

That is, if he can get you to relinquish your name.

It is a key piece of his plan, and the one that worries him the most.

He knows you do not give it freely; knows you keep it guarded. It’s like you’re already aware that he waits in the shadows for you, watching, keeping track of every step you take, every year, from sunup to the next, until you slink beneath the water where he cannot follow.

The pressure inside his body is nearly unbearable by the time you step into the pub. Dozens of heads turn towards you, mortals’ eyes roving all over your body like you’re a treat for them, like you’re something delicious they’ll have an opportunity to taste. Foolish, greedy mortals, too busy staring dreamily at you to recognize the predator that you are, or the predator he is, oblivious to the two hunters in the room with them right now. He wonders, if you'd bathe in their blood, given an opportunity. The image makes him smile.

Johnny clears his throat expectantly, and Simon nods, casting a glance over to where Gaz sits with a pretty female on his lap, her attentions focused solely on him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust. Johnny gives him a nod.

“Good luck.” He offers and Simon waves him off. He’s no need for luck. His blood sings your song.

“Ready?” He nearly loses control when he watches your face fill with despair for a moment after his question, his aching need to soothe and comfort you almost forcing his hands out to touch you. I'm here, little huntress. You are not alone anymore. He cannot tell you this, not yet. So instead, he applies pressure to your hand gently and waits. When you nod, he breathes just a tiny bit easier.

He cannot stay in this place any longer. The eyes, the mortals, their inane thirst for alcohol and violence starting to scratch underneath his skin. He needed you, needed your name, needed to take you home to his realm, and all this noise and smoke and foul-smelling liquor stood in his way. The feeling of your hand in his soothes him, calms the anxious explosion that’s building in his chest, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough, until he has what he wants.

On the way out, he does not miss your little spell. He is, and has been, the most powerful creature in this room. He has felt every ounce of magic used, by you, by Johnny, by Kyle, all night long. It makes his heart swell when he feels your effort to push the dancing female into the arms of her scorned lover, makes his heart soar when he realizes perhaps, you have not given up on love, on life. Perhaps, you just need something else, something other than the hunt, to live for.

He allows you to take your time beneath the Pier. He cannot rush you, cannot allow you the feeling of anything being amiss, being off. You are so close to the sea, so close to the edge of the water that if he spooks you, it will be too easy for you to slip away. Too easy for you to be lost beneath the surface, again, just as you have been for hundreds of years.

When your teeth tear into his flesh he nearly moans, almost loses control again, but tamps down the urge to spring forward and toss you into the sand beneath him. He needs your name, needs your name so bloody badly it has his head spinning, his entire being desperately urging him to act, to claim, to take you. Your cunt is searing hot around his cock, your body shivering in his arms as you rock your hips delicately, eyes watching him half addled, crazed with the lust for his blood, for his heart.

“Will you not tell me your name?” He thrusts slowly up into you, and pity flashes across your features as you bend forward to brush your mouth against your ear. He feels your lips part, hears the intake of your breath and then-

You’re his. The magic begins immediately, bonding you to him, searing you into his soul and vice versa, the song in his blood slipping away until all he feels is the combined force of your power and his, the melding of souls and magic that will guarantee your existence in his realm, by his side, guaranteeing your survival, your ability to thrive. He takes advantage of your confusion, of the chaos that rises in your heart and flips you on your back, spreading your thighs wide beneath him and plunging his cock as deep as he can. So close. So, so close, and then you will be truly his, for as long as you both shall live.

“I-“

“You,” he thrusts harder, desperate to claim you. “are mine, little huntress.” He hisses it, pushing the words forward with the brunt of his power, and you gasp before whispering his name.

“Sweet little Nereid…more beautiful than the sea herself.” He kisses your throat, stroking your clit at a torturous pace while your confused gaze tracks his every movement. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” The magic pushes through your blood and bones, continuing to stitch and sear you to him, and he can’t help the feelings of possession that come over him.

His. His. His.

His magic cuts and gnaws at your own, ripping and shredding it to bits until it’s infected with him, the strength of your name, your free admission to him, turning you inside out, changing the very chemistry of your body. He watches with dark satisfactions as your face shifts, your lips parting with understanding, eyes widening with your knowledge of the truth.

“You… You’re-“ Clever little huntress.

“Yes.” He purrs, and punches his cock back up inside of you, pressing close to your cervix, your body wet and needy, just for him. You shudder and blink hazily, confusion flickering across your features while his magic roots around inside of you and binds you to him, cell by cell. He can still smell you, smell the cool salt air of the sea that comes from your skin, smell the ripeness of your body, your willingness spilling forward in the air, the scent of sweet honeysuckle and sea holly. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your body rocking swiftly in time with him while your brow furrows, like you’re not sure what you should be doing. He licks at the stain of his blood on your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a sharp whine, small hands flexing against his chest.

“No.” you admonish, face stricken. “No. No, you t-tricked me.”

“I did.” He agrees, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in a swift circle, your breath hitching. Your face twists into something sour, but your cunt clenches around him, and his lips curl into a crescent moon smirk. “Are you going to come on my cock, sweet one?”

“Unnf.” You moan nonsense, turning your face away from him but he does not stop, hips snapping against yours, his body working to bring yours closer and closer to its climax.

“I think you are.” He hisses and grips your jaw to turn your eyes back to him. They’re wet with tears, but he doesn’t see fear in them, doesn’t see the despair. Only flares of rage, and the heat of desire, the electricity of the magic that is now shared between the two of you. He smiles triumphantly. “I think,” he relaxes his pace, dragging his cock out of you painstakingly slowly, gaze never leaving your lovely face. “you’re going to come for me, and then I’m going to breed you, little huntress.” You tense around him, squeezing his cock, the words pulling a delicious, physical reaction from you that shakes his focus for a moment. His palm lays flat over your lower belly, low enough that his thumb can feel the hardness of your clit, can stroke around it’s hood while you gasp and convulse in his arms. You shake your head stubbornly, chest heaving for breath, and he slams himself back into you, your spine curling forward into his chest.

“Gods.” You cry out, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto, finding his shoulders and sinking deep, deep enough that he knows you're drawing blood. It oozes from the tiny wounds, tracing down his skin and when you pull away, your fingers have been darkened with it.

He watches with small wonder as you slip them into your mouth, face going slack with bliss, cunt spasming around him while he strokes deep. His skin prickles, mouth finding yours again, and you moan into him, uninhibited, full of abandon.

“I have watched you for over a century, my sweet Nereid. Watched you hunt, watched you love, watched you lose.” He slows to look down at you, caressing your face with a gentle touch. “I have watched the light fade from your eyes, watched despair take over your existence.” Your gaze widens, mouth dropping open in surprise, and then closing abruptly, eyes softening around the corners.

“Simon.” You murmur, pressing your finger to the weeping wound from your teeth.

“My huntress. You will never be alone again.” He noses your jaw, licking and sucking against your skin, cold brine exploding against his tongue. Your scent crests, peaking with the honey flower and salt, your body yearning beneath him, cunt milking his cock. “Come for me.” He encourages when he knows it’s time, when he sees the glossy want all over your face. It doesn’t take much urging, another stroke of your clit and you’re coming, body locking up around him, muscles straining as you cry out, face full of bliss and legs tense around his hips. You clamp down around him, holding him deep inside your body like a vice but he works you through it, thrusting slowly inside your scorching cunt, your walls desperately trying to keep him inside. “There you go.” He soothes, fucking you through the aftershocks, your face still twisted up. “That’s just what I needed.” The orgasm makes your more pliable, more soft and less angry, and he sees in your eyes what he knows to be true. You want this. Perhaps this is not what you would have chosen at first, perhaps the magic was too strong in your veins in the beginning, but your body knows what your mind works to accept. You are choosing this, choosing him, over the hunt. Over the sacrifice. Over the immortal life of loss.

So, so close.

He folds your legs towards your chest, opening you deeper and you mewl, lips parted in dazed, post orgasm glow. He can’t help but kiss you again and again, his painfully slow thrusts forcing irritated breaths to puff from your nose.

“Something you want?” He teases, and you nod, pressing your face into his shoulder and groaning into his skin.

“Simon. Please.” You voice breaks, and he feels your cunt pool around him, liquid heat forcing him to grit his teeth in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.

Ask me for it, little huntress.

“Please, what?” He mocks, thumb pressing down on your clit hard, causing you to keen. He doesn’t move, just stays steady inside of you, your cunt working pull him deeper.

“Please, please. I want-“ you gasp when he bites the skin of your neck, and he smiles wickedly. Your cunt practically strangles him now, body working to drag his orgasm from him, magic singing in both of your hearts.

His. His. His.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

Your scent overpowers him, the swell of the ocean behind him combined with the salt of your essence pulling him harder into your gravity.

“What do you want?”

“I want your come.” You beg and he snarls, finally losing control, fucking into your eager body with abandon, hard and punishing while you moan and cry beneath him. He takes your earlobe in his teeth before whispering a vow:

“Then you shall have it.” He plays with your clit, the intensity of his strokes matching the pace of his thrusts and you pant eagerly. “You shall have it every day until you are full of me, full with my child.”

“Yes.” You moan, and he feels you moving towards another climax, your muscles spasming and eyes slipping shut.

“I’m going to breed you, give you my baby, sweetling. Make you mine, forever.” Your back arches and you wail, your cunt clamping down on him again, and he thrusts as deep as he can, chasing his release, fueling his burning desire to empty himself inside of you. He lets go completely, untethers his magic, lets it fully fuse with yours as he spills inside of you, the pressure of his orgasm working against your aftershocks, and your own magic that wraps itself wildly around him, clawing at the seat of his power, desperate to attach itself.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

His. His. His.

You fall asleep on his chest, body relaxed and sated, mouth open in a small o. He needs to get you up, needs to get you ready to travel to his realm but in this moment, he’s content to sit here, against the old wooden pier, timing the rise and fall of your breathing and planning for the future, for eternity.

“Will you care for her?” A musical voice asks from a short distance, and his head snaps up to see your sister, the one you stood with on the beach this morning, inclining her head towards your peaceful, sated body that sits snugly in his arms.

“Always.” He promises, and she nods, eyes looking down the shoreline.

“I am happy for her.” She looks sad, forlorn, not unlike how you appeared hours ago.

“It is not too late, for you to hunt. There is still plenty of time before the sunrise.” He tries to encourage, and she nods.

“Perhaps.” Simon briefly wonders if Kyle or Johnny are still in town, a sinister idea forming in his mind, taking shape before his very eyes. He pushes, just the gentlest bit of magic, the piece that’s mixed with yours, towards her. A long moment passes, and then, “I think I’ll walk.” She motions up the pier and gives a goodbye nod, as he strokes a hand down your spine when you shiver in his arms.

You do not stir until she is a speck on the horizon, and when you do, you lift your head wearily, like you’ve slept for a thousand years.

“What’s going on?” you murmur, shifting your dress so it covers your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your forehead before giving an answer.

“We’re going home now, little huntress.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost call of duty #mermaids #mermaids au #magic au #ghost x reader #cod fanfic

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etfrin · 1 month

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!

beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing

thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!

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Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.

“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.

“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”

“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”

“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”

Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”

Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.

“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.

He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.

“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.

Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.

Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.

You do.

Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.

“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.

That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.

“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.

“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.

“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”

“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.

“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.

“They let you bring one here?” He questions.

“Special privileges,” you replied.

Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.

You're his.

Could anything be better than that?

He doesn't think so.

“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.

“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”

“Of course, dove.”

You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”

“We?” He questioned.

“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”

Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.

“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”

You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”

“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.

“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”

Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.

“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.

Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,�� he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.

It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.

It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.

“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.

There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.

Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.

Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.

Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?

Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”

“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.

“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.

“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”

She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”

Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.

But she won't be able to survive him.

Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.

“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”

Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”

“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.

He shot her right in the chest.

Lucy Gray was dead.

She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.

Now it was time to get rid of the body.

He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.

This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.

He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.

Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.

He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.

Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.

“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”

You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”

Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.

“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”

He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.

“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.

Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.

And own you he shall.

He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.

The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.

“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.

He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.

He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.

Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.

“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”

“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”

“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”

You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”

“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.

“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.

He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.

“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.

He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.

His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”

“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”

Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.

“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”

Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.

Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.

Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”

Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.

You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.

Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan

“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”

“Make me,” you smirk.

“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”

“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.

His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.

“Of course, Coryo.”

He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.

“You feel so good,” he whines.

His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.

“Fuc- ah!”

Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.

“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.

“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.

Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.

He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.

You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.

“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.

He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.

He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.

“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.

Forever.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.

Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.

“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”

Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.

It was today's date.

Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.

Coriolanus walks to you.

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