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h8ani · 4 months

Text

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 3.3k

Warnings - fem!reader, slight overstimulation, fingering, oral (female receiving)

A/N - after months of having this in my notebook I finally finished it T.T I just wanna say thank you to everyone for liking part 1 & 2 of this and I hope you enjoy this just as much! I didn't expect to make multiple parts for this but I lowkey already have ideas for more parts if anyone is enjoying it enough to want more!

taglist! - @kkittycries @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three

The door of your apartment slams as you trudge in, the sloshing of your shoes, soaked with the rain from the downpour that just drenched you outside. You dart for the couch, grabbing the closest pillow and quickly shoving your face into it and letting out a scream that would have alerted the neighbors in some way if it wasn’t muffled.

All day something has gone wrong, if it wasn’t one thing it was surely the next. It’s as if the gods above were playing games with you just to see how much you could handle before you undoubtedly snapped.

Waking up late wouldn’t have been such a bother if it wasn’t for the meeting with the Hokage you had. You had a performance review about the latest mission you were just on and no shock to you, it brought up how bad of a screw-up you must’ve been because all that was said was everything you did wrong. You were reprimanded for that along with your tardiness to the meeting, on top of that you never ate breakfast because of the rush you were in. Deciding after the meeting ramen would be the perfect meal to drown in your sorrows and finally get something in your system, only to realize that being in such a rush you absentmindedly forgot your coin purse. Deciding to finally leave and go back home, Mother Nature wanted to make sure you got there quickly and started a downpour just for you. Being soaked from head to toe was something every girl just needed, and so, here you are.

The frustration building inside of you makes every inch of your body feel like it might explode, tears threaten to spill past your bottom lashes and onto your cheeks but you refuse to cry and give in to the absolute shit show of a day you’ve endured. Your throat constricts while you take a deep breath, as you exhale the subtle sound of your doorknob twisting is heard, the door opens slightly, and before you can think your fingers fumble with your kunai, quickly throwing it and seeing it lodge into the wall next to the door.

Sasuke walks in to stop as he sees you, glancing at the kunai and then back at you. His eyes scan your body, seeing you sopping wet with a puddle of water soaking your once dry carpet, you were frowning at him and your eyes were slightly red even as you blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “Bad day?” He comes inside, locking the door once it's been shut.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Your voice was small yet still croaked as you spoke. He nods, not saying anything more as he makes his way towards you, hands gripping your wrist and tugging you back towards your room. Immediately you start to pull your wrist back albeit weakly. “Not that kinda bad day.”

“I figured as much.” He shrugs his jacket off and tosses it on your bed, if you had the energy you’d scoff at how he’s making it seem as if this was his room.

“No I mean-”

“Can you shut up for a second?” He interjects while waving a hand in your direction, ignoring the glare you shoot at him as he walks to your bathroom. He disappears for a moment until you hear the shower turn on. Once again making himself feel at home. You open your mouth to call to him when he reappears, hand beckoning you over.

Against your better judgment, you move towards him, feet seemingly having a mind of their own, and follow him into your bathroom. The steam that was already filling the small bathroom gave you a warm hug of warmth, not realizing how cold you were from the rain. A content sigh leaves your lips accepting the new damp warmth you felt.

“Wanna tell me what got you like this?” He asks while pulling his shirt off and dropping it at your feet. Confusion crosses your features as he continues to undress in front of you, the heat from the steam leaving and going straight to your face, you jerk your head away from him as you mumble a half ass answer about how it’s raining outside. You hear the rest of his clothes fall against the tile floor as he discards them all, quickly kicking them to the side so your wet ones don’t drip on his.

“How are you not wet? The weather outside is awful.” You ask, head still turned away to not look at him, still unsure as to why he decided to strip. It’s not like you haven’t seen him but the close proximity and eye contact are still something you weren’t used to.

“It’s called an umbrella, the clouds were dark, and it was obvious it was going to rain. You’d have to be blind to not see that.” You snap your head to glare at him which turned to sudden wide eyes as he was fully naked in front of you. Your eyes wander from his chest down to his toned stomach and venture further until- “Eyes up here.” He smirks when he sees the flush of your face.

“Why am I even in here?”

“We’re going to shower, you need to relax.”

“I- we- huh?” You stutter out, the gears in your head coming to a halt while you look at him as if a second head grew out of his neck. Sasuke rolls his eyes and slips his fingers under the bottom of your top and tugs it off and over your head, it drops to the floor with a loud splat sound from the rainwater soaked in it.

“I said you needed to relax, now shut up, stop asking questions, and take your pants off.”

“God you’re such a-”

“Yeah whatever, just hurry up before the hot water runs out.”

Once again, against your better judgment, you listen to him, your clothes are off and discarded with your shirt, a small pool of water creating around it. Soon you’re stepping into your shower first, the heat of the water relaxing your sore and aching body and warming you up in an instant. You audibly sigh and allow your eyes to close just feeling the water beat and fall down your chest like a steady stream.

Sasuke is soon after you, hands finding a place on your waist, the subtle squeeze making your body freeze up as if the water had turned frigid. “Relax, Jesus it’s just me.” Sasuke says, you can feel the huff of his breath on the back of your neck which does nothing to calm you down.

Relax? It’s just me? That’s exactly the reason why you couldn’t, the sole fact that if you two weren’t fucking then what was the point of being here? What was the point of this? This was too nice for him, too intimate.

His hands slide from your waist up to your shoulders and feel his thumbs press down and slowly rub, easily bringing you back from your thoughts. “You’re tense.”

“When am I not?” You joke, amusement evident as it was so obvious you’ve never been a relaxed person. The expectations are always so high for you even from such a young age, even now with so many responsibilities on your plate the urge to sleep and ignore it all is so heavy.

Sasuke doesn’t respond, thumbs pushing down deeper into your muscles massaging out all of the tenseness you have. You lean back against his chest, eyes shutting once again and letting a sigh escape your lips. His hands go down your back keeping the pressure to work out the rest of your body. “Fuck..” You whimper.

“There we go..” His fingers dig into your lower back finding the place where you melt into him, you lean your head back against his shoulder and sigh contentedly.

“Thank you for this.” You say quietly, barely heard over the stream of water coming from your shower head. It was a soft moment, both of you two never uttering anything other than foul comments to one another, always making sure the next word hurt more than the last, yet here you were; eyes closed and guard down against the chest of someone you couldn’t stand to look at when you were kids.

“Shut up.” His chest rises as he scoffs before dipping down to kiss your shoulder. “You looked a mess when I got here.”

Ignoring his comment, you bend forward to turn the heat up higher, you soon turn around to face him, his hair is damp and his cheeks are flushed from the steamy air. He didn’t have his signature grimace that always laid upon his face, being this close where the tension wasn’t filled with anger was…different.

His hands made their way back to your waist, squeezing the soft plush of your skin. The air; although thick with vapor, was brittle as a crisp autumn leaf, so fragile it could break if you breathed, and if it didn't snap you felt like you just might. Neither of you speaks, you fumble with your fingers, unsure if you should lay them on him as he has his on you.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, his hand slid to the back of your neck tugging you closer, a quiet “Come here.” leaving his lips before he was on yours.��

Unknowing if it’s because of the intimacy of being in the shower together and the vulnerability it gave off, but the kiss emitted every little bit of exposure you felt. His hands held onto you tightly while yours lay upon his chest. Collectively, a sigh left you both; unspoken words left between you both and died on each other's tongue.

You feel the cool sheets against your warm skin as you plop yourself on your bed, the fluffy pajama bottoms you now have on bringing an added level of cozy you oh so needed to your day. You finally felt relaxed; cold, damp clothes soon forgotten as well as the ravenette who stood behind you. Your mind was mulled over with the sudden leisure that you couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you when Sasuke’s cold hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down the length of your bed. You turn to look at him when his lips come crashing into your own, soft lips pressing hard while you melt into his touch, kissing Sasuke has started to feel familiar, a comfort in kissing his lips and knowing how the other works.

One of his hands comes up to take place at your throat, slightly squeezing to elicit a small whimper from you. Just like you feeling familiarity in his lips he feels the same in knowing just how you’d react, feeling just as if he knows a part of you. His hand slips to the back of your neck pulling you closer, tongue slipping in and claiming your mouth for his own. His kisses become hungrier, more passionate. Fingers tilting your chin up so your throat is now exposed, he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and descends further down your neck. You become putty to his mouth as he finds your sweet spot, another whine leaves your lips only igniting him further.

His hands leave your neck and grip onto your waist pulling you to him and grinding your hips into his erection. Every whine and whimper that leaves your mouth sends every impulse in him into overdrive. “Still having a bad day?” He breathes out, lips ghosting over the sensitive mark he just created.

“It could be better.” You giggle, legs instinctively pulling him even closer to your clothed core. He smirks against the skin of your neck while hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama bottoms, you lift your hips allowing him to tug them off. He shifts himself down until he’s on his knees at the foot of your bed, he tugs you down to the edge of your bed until he’s at eye level with your already glistening core. Strong hands push your thighs until they’re pressed against your chest, a low growl reverberating in his chest. You’re this wet just from a few simple kisses, how pathetic.

His head dips down and licks through your slick, lips attaching to your clit and sucking causing your hips to buck in his mouth. He chuckles, the vibration pulsing your entire lower half as your hand shoots to his still-damp hair, your fingers thread and slightly tug while he circles his tongue. A quiet moan leaves your lips causing his eyes to shoot up and look at you, he sees your eyes closed; his tongue relieving you of all your stressors from the day. The small whimpers you let out only make his gaze darker, hungrier for you.

“I know you can be louder than that.” He says as he pulls back. Finally, you look down at him and see his black eyes boring into you, he sees your eyes glossy and lips slightly parted, he hasn’t even made you cum yet and you’re already like this, but that doesn’t stop the pout that forms on your face. Your hand tightens its grip on his hair and tugs his face closer to your heat.

“Keep going-”

“Be louder, I want to hear you.” His words are demanding, making you jut your lip out in a pout once more. “Be louder or I’ll leave.” You huff a breath and look away from him only to feel a quick slap to your thigh causing you to yelp and snap your head right back to him. No words being said between the both of you but you know it was a threat. His head dips back down sinking further as he keeps his eyes trained on yours while running his tongue through your slick core, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure to evoke a slurry of curse words from your mouth. Your hips move and grind against his tongue, your hand tugging roughly at his hair causing him to groan into you. Thumb now leaves your clit and quickly replaces it with his mouth, his skillful tongue circling and flicking, having you clench down on nothing. Your whimpers turn to moans and now his name is the only thing you’re able to say.

You orgasm without warning, fingers tightening even more in his locks while your thighs trap him. A choked-out moan is heard loudly in his ears, another groan vibrates your body as he laps up all of your juices, his skillful tongue sending shivers up your spine as he doesn’t pull away while you ride your high.

Once the oversensitivity set in you squirm in his grip, legs planting down to try and push away from him but his arms quickly hook under your thighs and spread you wider for him, giving him even more access to your pussy. His lips suck harshly around your clit extracting a high pitch squeal from you. “Sasuke!” Your once woven fingers in his hair were now pushing him away, the oversensitivity having tears prick your waterline, it was beginning to feel too much, too much pleasure building up right after you just came.

Sasuke was eating you like he was starved, the lewd and wet sounds coming from where his mouth connected with your pussy were all that could be heard. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten again and your legs tremble, a silent indicator you were so close only minutes after your first orgasm.

As if he could read your mind and body so easily, Sasuke pushes two fingers in and pumps them at a quick pace, curling them as he does so. You’re shaking, his fingers hitting your g-spot again and again and again-

Your eyes roll back while you cum, your body tensing up and your head being thrown and pressed back into your mattress as you moan loudly. Once your body loosens up and legs go limp he finally pulls away.

The bed dips down as he climbs up your body, a cheeky smile plastered on his face when he sees the fucked out look on yours, a sense of pride filling his chest up to know he got you like this just from his tongue alone. Your eyes settled on his, trailing down to see his lips and chin coated in your slick.

Your chest rises with heavy breaths, eyes weary as you slowly blink up at him, the subtle tint of your face changing when catching his own eyes already looking down at yours.

His eyes scan your face, seeing how you divert your own away from him while trying to regain your breath. It’s funny, he did all the work and you’re the one out of breath. Sasuke fits himself more comfortably in between your legs, laying more of his weight on you as you both just relax in silence.

He can’t help but look at you in a different light, when he first came over months ago he didn’t know what got ahold of him. He was the last person you wanted to see and vice versa, but that didn’t stop him from barging in, he was always watching the village in one way or another, whether it was from word of mouth by someone or when he could sneak away, somehow whenever the latter happened you were always one of the first people he happened to catch sight of.

It was annoying.

He felt the irritation run up his neck when he saw you, the way you’d walk almost as if your nose was in the air, thinking you were better than him, better than everyone around you. Just seeing you from a distance he couldn’t stand, it’s like the same little girl he remembered back then was still in his head, glaring at him and calling him all the insults under the sun whenever he jabbed at you, but when he finally saw you he couldn’t help but be a little happy to see that same signature scowl that appeared on your face.

That first night he didn’t even come to fuck you, that was the last thing that he would have thought would happen, but when push literally came to shove against that damn wall his body took over, all the pent-up frustrations between you two over the years hitting the breaking point.

He can’t lie and say nothing has changed since he started coming over more frequently. He wasn’t supposed to be sneaking back into the village, he wasn’t meant to be seeing you so much, having moments like this. It’s easier to say he doesn’t give a damn about you, that it’s just the sex that keeps bringing him back, but when he does something so out of character as he did today he can’t help but feel like he should’ve just fucked you and left; pushed your bad day to the side, ignore your borderline broken figure and used you to his liking. He’s no nurturer, far from it yet he still worked your sore muscles out and had you cum till you were dizzy.

“This won’t happen again.” He thinks to himself. He can’t come back, he won’t. This will be the last time you see him and he sees you. The last time he feels your soft skin against him, fingers dancing across his back and playing with the hair while you both calm down. The last time you see his eyes staring back at you, different emotions each time and never knowing which one it is.

He’s convinced himself of it, never again.

But when you bat your pretty little eyes like you’re doing right now he can’t help but mentally curse himself as he finds himself leaning down to press his lips against yours.

He knows he’s going to come back.

He knows it and he can’t help but hate you for it.

networks: @enchantedforest-network / @bitchcraftinc / @ghostqueue

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sleepingdeath-light · 2 years

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thigh riding headcanons ; original avengers & loki (18+)

kinktober day twenty five extra

pairing ; bruce banner x gender neutral!reader, clint barton x gender neutral!reader, loki laufeyson x gender neutral!reader, natasha romanov x gender neutral!reader, steve rogers x gender neutral!reader, thor odinson x gender neutral!reader, tony stark x gender neutral!reader

note ; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

bruce banner

thigh riding is the safest way for bruce to pleasure you because there’s very minimal risk of him hulking out and hurting you

it also allows you both to work around his busy schedule and the state of exhaustion it leaves him in

like he can just lay back in bed in his pyjamas and let you take care of yourself with minimal work on his end whilst he just praises and encourages you in equal measure

or you can just straddle him when he’s at his desk in the lab and take care of yourself whilst he works on some paperwork — one arm holding you steady against his chest whilst the other works on whatever s.h.i.e.l.d assigned to him

he also just enjoys seeing you ride his thighs because he gets a perfect view of every expression and reaction you give him

clint barton

thigh riding is usually used as a type of foreplay for clint or just as a way for you both to get off when you’re both too tired or too busy to do anything else

it’s usually very messy and clumsy, filled with lazily wandering hands and sloppy kisses as you love against each other

he’ll be half guiding you, half letting you take control — getting pleasure both from pleasuring you and from the minimal friction caused by you brushing against his clothes crotch

clint isn’t necessarily talkative when you guys do this, but he does tend to let out a good few grunts, groans and muffled moans that sound vaguely like your name

big on teasing you about it after the fact either through outright stating how good you looked/sounded/felt or by slapping/pinching/patting your ass as a sign of appreciation

loki laufeyson

thigh riding is an act that loki can either take or leave depending on your preferences

like he doesn’t dislike it, and in fact would quite enjoy to see you pleasuring yourself on his thigh — so desperate for him that you can get off without much intervention so long as he’s there

but he solidly prefers oral and penetrative sex to thigh riding

that being said, if you were to ask him he’d be more than happy to oblige — spreading his legs wide to accommodate you where he’s sat and patting one thigh in an inviting gesture be treated by the smug, mischievous smirk that graces his features

he’d either give you his complete attention or none at all; either returning his focus back to whatever it was he was doing beforehand (likely reading a book) and allowing you to take what you needed from him, or taking complete control and guiding you every step of the way as you get off on his thigh

the former is a subtle way to humiliate you and get you to beg for him — to show off the effect he has on you without him having to say a word (you can’t get off without him yet you’re eager enough to soil his clothes with your desperation)

and the latter is a complete show of his dominant nature: large hands grasping at your waist or hips to hold you in place with no room for argument, piercing eyes shamelessly looking over every inch of your body, strong thigh pressed up against your clothed sex and silver tongue teasing and mocking you for your desperation

either way, your climax will come on his terms and you’ll be receiving plentiful teasing commentary before, during and after the fact (including remarks about you returning the favour in due time)

natasha romanov

thigh riding is something that nat enjoys being on the giving and receiving end of depending on her mood

if you’ve been good or she’s too tired to have sex with you, she’ll instruct you to straddle her thigh and ride it — keeping one hand on your hip to maintain control as she lets you take what you need

though this doesn’t mean she’ll let you get away with anything — you’re still very much so at her mercy even if you’re on top, so expect to be given instructions to follow and proper punishments if you fail to do so

even if your relationship is more vanilla, nat would still maintain this air of dominance she’d just lay off the punishments

if she were to ride you, however, it’s usually due to a combination of your misbehaviour and her need for release

as in she’ll straddle you and take whatever pleasure she wants, allowing you to see her completely bare and horny, but forbidding you from touching her and denying you that same release in return (i.e. you can see her but you cannot touch her)

steve rogers

thigh riding is a completely alien concept to steve and would only really be done if he’s too busy to tend to you otherwise (such as if he’s prepping for a mission and has been neglecting you)

doesn’t really guide you as he trusts you enough to let you take what you need, but will have one hand lightly gripping your waist to make sure you don’t fall

will dutifully follow any requests you make of him — though he will 100% get rather red in the face and stammer slightly through his “of course”s and “like that?”s

and whilst he does try to get his work done, he can’t help but get distracted and aroused by the sounds you’re making and the feeling of you sliding along his thigh — especially if you’re leaving a wet patch behind

so despite his best efforts, no more work will be done after this as thigh riding will usually precede love making unless he’s physically unable to do so for some reason

thor odinson

thor is always eager to please you and can get off on giving pleasure alone, so thigh riding would be something he’d happy to try with you

starts off very chatty and vocal, one hand leisurely resting on the small of your back as he praises and compliments you in every tongue he knows — only occasionally breaking it up with questions about if you’d like him to do anything

trusts you to take the reins for the most part, but will sometimes move his thigh up to meet you just to get a reaction out of you

well he tries to hand over the reins, but after a while the combined friction of your leg accidentally brushing against his crotch and the feeling of your arousal through his clothes starts to get the better of him and he starts to take control

of course he’s still chasing your high, but the way his large hands are gripping your waist and his mouth is crashing against yours — successfully muffling the loud groans and grunts he’s making — may be enough to convince you otherwise

but either way you’ll end up reaching your high soon enough, with plentiful bruises on your hips and the swollen lips to prove it

tony stark

tony tends to treat thigh riding as a type of foreplay or one way of him to meet you in the middle if you have a higher libido — which would be shocking considering his reputation

he doesn’t really get too much pleasure out of having you ride him, but he’s not shy about enjoying the view - tending to lean back on his forearms and letting you take what you need

shamelessly looks you up and down and is very big on dirty talk when you’re riding his thighs — commenting on how he can feel you through his clothes and telling you to just “take what you need honey/babe/etc.” whilst he relaxes

as foreplay he’d be much more involved, using it as a way to make sure you’re prepped and excited beforehand by moving with you and reaching down to play with you through your clothes as you grind against him

but either way this man will not be subtle about how much he loves seeing you come undone on top of him

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zazter-den · 7 months

Text

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

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purriteen · 3 months

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter three

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: this is where it gets really toxic, so be prepared please this is so OOC I’m ashamed

word count: 2,678

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Perhaps it was about image after all. Your brother had invited guests to what you had assumed was a private dinner, just the two of you. You recognized Strabo Plinth and his wife sitting at his right, but he’d saved you a seat next to him. Deep down you had hoped that their spending time together was just some phoney traumabond, after all Coryo’s classmate and fellow peacekeeper - their son - had been executed for treason when they were both serving together out in twelve, and the boy didn’t seem to have a lot of friends, at all. You knew why, of course. He was district. You still remembered the gossip surrounding him when you had first started middle school. He was in the same class as your brother, and the year after that they both went on to the Academy. Even kids your age were talking bad about him behind his back.

You gritted your teeth as you walked over to him, feigning a smile when he pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit. You obliged. Only now did you get a good look at the people sitting around the table. You only recognized a handful, as some of the other high-up politicians working alongside your brother and an old classmate of his. Mrs Plinth gave you a warm smile, pointing towards a couple steaks neatly arranged on a platter not far from where you were sitting and saying something you couldn’t quite make out. You smiled and nodded, leaning over to grab the smallest piece you could find.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. It felt like he was testing you - first he neglected to tell you about whatever this was, and now he wanted to see how you’d react. If you’d finally learned to think quickly on your feet. If your presence could actually be useful in these events. Even the gown felt like a test - presumably to figure out if you’d look good on his arm. Like he was trying you on, rather than having you try the dress on.

All that dining etiquette Coriolanus had forced you to learn when you were barely ten years old still stuck with you. That was the first time you got a good glimpse of your father in him. His impatience, the complete lack of compassion, the way he smacked your wrists for getting something wrong. At that point Tigris had intervened, but Grandma’am had simply shrugged it off and told some anecdote starting with ‘back in my day’.

You refused to even acknowledge his presence. You hadn’t been prepared for this, you knew you were still too vulnerable. Maybe that’s why he did it; if you broke down or embarrassed him in front of other people again, he’d have all the more reason to isolate you and keep building off of the story of his mentally distraught little sister. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of that.

You gloated in the fact that his guests seemed to take more of an interest in you than Coriolanus for a brief moment. An older woman you faintly recognised remarked on how much you’d grown since she last saw you. Another jokingly pointed out how you’d been the one to inherit your mother’s good looks. A pleasant laughter erupted from right next to you at this, but you could sense the tension in your brother’s voice.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you replied, “Oh, but Coriolanus inherited one thing I didn’t, our father’s talent for scheming.” You meant it as a half-joke, but you could tell by the subtle tightening in his jaw that Coriolanus wasn’t pleased. Meanwhile it took the other guests a second to determine that it was okay to laugh.

It was laughable how shallow they all were, how they so loyally danced around on the minefield that was their president’s ego, all for just a glimpse of power.

By the time dessert was served you were deep in conversation with the man sitting on your left, feigning interest in his latest endeavours within finance as he tried to work his charms on you. You were surprised at first, but you supposed it made sense that an up and coming young weasel businessman would try and use you and your brother’s position to better his own standing.

You figured you could always use the excuse of common courtesy if Coriolanus decided to confront you about it afterwards. You’d never admit it, but you relished in the knowledge that you were getting on his nerves, and that you still managed to be subtle enough for him to not intervene. You reckoned that you were playing your cards well.

Until the guests started to leave one by one. Eventually you had to say goodbye to the young man who you’d learned was named Salus Bellthorn - judging by his last name he wasn’t anyone important, likely the son of one of your brother’s colleagues or similar - and one of your brother’s old classmates, who was surprisingly well-rounded.

Finally, it was just you, Coriolanus and the Plinths. You tried to remain polite, despite the distaste you felt for them for splitting up your family and humiliating Grandma’am. All you could think about was how she had died thinking her grandson had ditched her for a couple of greedy district folk. Soon enough he took notice of your suddenly uptight demeanour, making up some half-assed excuse about fatigue.

You didn’t like the thought of potentially allowing your reputation to become collateral damage, but you were pleased at the thought of forcing Coryo to clean up after you. He was always excellent at damage control. So it wasn’t surprising when he escorted the two of them to the front door to say goodbye, leaving you behind in the dining room with the remaining servants.

By the time he returned, all of that charm and pleasantry had melted right off of him. He marched right over to you, gripping your arm hard enough to bruise. You winced in pain, and he seemed to realise the two of you were still not alone in the room. He glared down at you as he tugged on your wrist, forcing you to stand up. He visibly cooled down, taking on his usual stoic expression, but you knew better than to think he was calm. “Helvius, clear the table and tell the kitchen staff they’re done for tonight.”

He didn’t even give his chief of staff the chance to reply before practically dragging you back towards the grand staircase, causing you to nearly trip on the fabric of your own dress as he rushed upstairs. Neither of you uttered a single word the entire way back to your room.

When you finally got there, he let go of his calm facade again, showing you the Coriolanus you’d grown to hate. He slammed the door behind you, each of your wrists in one of his pale hands as he held you in place. His eyes frantically searched your face for any sign of weakness, but you refused to allow him the pleasure of seeing you break again.

“Did you enjoy your dinner party, Coriolanus?” You finally inquired, after what felt like hours of glaring at each other in silence. Your voice was dripping with venom as you spoke, taunting him. You watched as anger flashed in his eyes, before he took a deep breath. You liked knowing that he needed to put effort into keeping his cool because of you, despite the fear you felt in this situation. It took you until now to realise how hard your heart was pounding, but you figured you had nothing left to lose.

Just when you thought he’d calmed down, he shoved you down onto the floor, catching you off guard. You grimaced as you crawled back and away from him, all the way until your back hit the side of your bed. He followed, crouching down in front of you and once again trapping you beneath him. He leaned closer, as close as possible with your knees protectively curled up to your chest.

“You find it funny, don’t you?” He spat as he grabbed your chin, pressed between his pointer and his thumb. “Do you enjoy ruining your own future, my darling sister?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone deceptively gentle. “Every time you try to cause a scene in front of me my patience wears thinner, Hersilia. Right now? It is holding on by a thread.” You swallowed hard, struggling to keep up the stone cold, unbothered look on your face.

“Is this the future you want for yourself? You’re here for your own good, but don’t forget. I don’t need a reason to punish you.” He sounded harsher this time. Less filtered. “Even the districts think you’re sick, isn’t that amusing? No matter how much they despise me for simply keeping them in check, they’re no better than your friends. Happy to turn on you on account of gossip and hearsay alone.” He dryly chuckled, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Do you understand the gravity of your predicament yet?” You shiver, the back of his knuckle gently tracing down the exposed skin of your neck, until he gets to the point where it meets your shoulder. His hand slowly, delicately coils around your neck. Your heart nearly stops, and you look up at him. His eyes immediately meet yours, relishing in the fear he can sense in your gaze. Eyeing you like a predator inspecting its next meal.

“Why don’t you just poison me, Coryo? You think I’m a threat, or at best a burden. So why do you not just make me go away? We both know you have the means to!” You whisper, but it comes out more as a hiss, and even then he can still hear the resentment in your voice. You stay like that for a couple of minutes, eyes boring into each other, quiet enough to hear a needle drop. His hands stay right where they are, holding you in place and only threatening to choke, enough to keep you on edge. Your cheeks are burning up, betraying your attempts to show him no weakness.

He finally sighs and gets back up on his feet. He doesn’t move though, gesturing for you to get up as well. “I do not hate you. I do not wish to see you dead. You on the other hand,” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “You don’t seem to feel the same way. You keep pushing me away, after everything I’ve done for you.” He reaches out his hand, and you reluctantly place your own in his and allow him to pull you back up.

“Tell me, dove. Do you even realise how much I’ve sacrificed for you?” He waits for a second as if expecting an answer to his clearly rhetorical question, before continuing. “When you were little, Grandma’am couldn’t even look at you. Not after what happened to our father, she didn’t want to get attached. And Tigris, she tried, but when you got sick, she started to act like you were already dead. I stole food for you, slept next to you by the fireplace for a week until you started to get better. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” He continued, a vulnerability, gentleness, in his voice that you couldn’t remember hearing from him ever before. It sickened you as much as it tugged on your heartstrings.

“Everything I’ve done I’ve done to protect you. You’re a direct target for my opponents, and likely even common men. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, dove,” He caresses your cheek, your head nearly spinning as you try and process all of this. “Ever since I returned almost five years ago now, you’ve been so distant, so cold. I was too busy trying to secure our finances to see that you were slipping away from me.” You could hear the trembling in his voice, see the bottled up desperation in his eyes.

“I just want to keep you safe, Silia. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Now he’s whispering directly into your ear, the hand previously wrapped around your neck now gently caressing your shoulder. “I won’t lose you like I did mom and dad, like I did Grandma’am. I regret so much that I didn’t try harder to be there for you, even when Tigris shut me out,” He shakily exhales, his words making you finally snap out of it.

Your hands press against his chest, firmly pushing him away. You’re awestruck by the dishevelled, vulnerable look on his face at first. “What, what do you mean, Tigris shut you out?” He runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Don’t you remember how cold she was after I returned? She didn’t even want me to be alone with you, you know. I figured she would’ve told you something, perhaps warned you to stay away from me. God, she was always envious, Silia, envious because she’ll never experience what we have, envious because she’s an only child. Can’t you see that?”

Your brows furrow, sitting down on the bed as you try to take a moment to think this through. But he immediately descends upon you again, crouching down once more and holding your bare, shaking hands in his as he attempts to make eye contact. “Don’t be like that, Hersilia. Don’t shut me out again. You know I’m the only one around here who truly cares about you. Why else would Tigris have abandoned you? Why else would your friends be so easy to bribe into leaving you? Why else,”

He pauses, gently grabbing your chin and tilting it to make you look him in the eye, “Would I keep you here, as close to me as possible, when I could’ve sent you off to a mental institution, tried to do away with you? You mean so much to me, Silia. I just want to keep you safe. You won’t ever have to worry about going hungry again, about being kicked out on the street, about being found out as a fraud and humiliated by your peers. You have to understand, I was so afraid that you would break, that I’d lose you too. I truly believed that the only way to keep you safe was this.” He just keeps going, overwhelming you with all these new revelations.

“Please. Coryo,” You meekly whisper out, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I need time to think, you’re, you’re confusing me so much and I don’t know what to feel,” You babble on, tears turning into sobs that wrack through your small frame. “You scare me, Coryo, your mood swings, this constant game of push and pull, it scares me,” You hiccup, and before you know it he’s got his arms wrapped around you, pressing your face into his chest as he strokes your hair, hushing you.

“It’s okay, you’ll be okay, you’re gonna be just fine. Won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head, and you have no choice but to accept his shallow attempts at comforting you. You realise that he thinks that he’s got you now, that you believe him. You’re not sure if you do or if you’re still strong enough to resist him, but in this moment all you can do is fall apart over and over again in his arms, allowing yourself to forget for a moment why you only have him left to turn to in the first place.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus is overcome by a sick sense of satisfaction as you unravel right in front of him. He’s far past the point of feeling guilty now, no. He’s certain he can shape you into exactly what he wants in time, but he hasn’t forgotten how you tried to embarrass him tonight.

He’ll make sure you won’t forget it, too.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

#banner credit: @benkeibear #dead dove do not eat #minors dni #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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yrsdf · 11 months

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{AGE GAP: simon!30-40- reader!20 MDNI}

|tags: innocent!reader, dominant!simon|

BEGINNING SUMMARY

you came back home from college for the summer, you walk in the door to see your parents sitting at the dinner table with a man, he was wearing a balaclava with a skull attached to it, you noticed his broad appearance, the tattoos on his forearms and his thick british accent, his back faced you and your father called you over.

“Honey bun!! Oh welcome home sweetie!”

Your mother stood walking up to you, she engulfed you in a hug and you nearly melted, the scent of your home comforted your senses and you hugged her back, your items dropped to your side, you only had two bags, you were never a HUGE packer.

“God mom… you have no idea how amazing it is to be back, i mean it”

She sighed and nodded, she backed up and rubbed your arm in a comforting manner, you didn't even realize your dad had followed her and he opened his arms, his bear hugs were the ones you loved the most, he squoze you with brute strength making you giggle.

“Ohhh look at my ladybug! You're so grown up.”

He let go and you noticed the skull man's eyes boring into you he stood walking up to you three, he stood his height was towering, your father laughed

“Oh yea! Sorry hun, that's simon.. Me and your mum are leaving town for a bit for a small getaway, he offered to watch the house!”

You raised an eyebrow

“Dad.? I'm 20…? I can definitely watch the house on my own.”

Before you could continue to protest simons overbearing figure reached a handout to you and offered a handshake, even though that intimidating demeanor he held, you took his hand, his calloused rough hands tickled your hand making you shiver, he shook it softly before letting go of your hand.

“I know I know.. But you're still my little girl, I'd be a bad dad if I didn't make sure you were safe! The cars are already packed and we just want you to know we are a call away.”

They said their bye and gave hugs and kisses, before slipping out of the door and shutting it, you turnt to look at simon his eyes were cold and dark, but not in a mean or hateful way, more of in a flat expression type of way he speaks, tone deep and rough his accent rolls nicely off his tongue.

“Well, i suppose i didn't quite introduce myself..Im simon as your father said, since im the one in charge ill set some ground rules, no staying out late be home by 9:00, make sure i know when any friends come over, and lastly, be in bed by 10:00…”

Your mouth fell wide open in shock, so yea you assumed he would be maybe a little laid back or cool but definitely not, you scoffed and rolled your eyes before grabbing your bags storming up the stairs and into your room slamming your door, he didn't necessarily care if you were upset by his ground rules, simply he sat on the couch in your living room propping is feet up on your coffee table and watched tv.

{a few days pass}

It was about 4 am, simon was dead asleep on the couch downstairs and you snuck your boyfriend into your room, he fell on the floor and you shushed him giggling, your boyfriend kissed you, and pushed you onto the bed and he sloppily made way with you, he struggled undressing you and himself, he was in his boxers, and you were in your bra and panties, you heard simons boots from downstairs and you hurried your boyfriend into the closet before quickly throwing on an oversized shirt, the door swung open and you were standing there awkwardly, he knew something was up.

“Heard some stuff knockin around up here…”

his eyes looked at the close on the floor and you internally face palmed, then to your surprise he began searching your room, he stopped at the closet, and he opened it your boyfriend looked terrified.simon grabbed the boy by his shoulder and pulled him out of the closet throwing him to the floor

“Now what the hell did I tell you?”

His voice was raised and demanding as his eyes dug into your soul, you mouth dry and speechless as he looked now to your sobbing boyfriend you scoffed

“Seriously Anthony…? Seriously, you're crying.”

You said with a aggravated tone simon laughed ever so slightly

“Y’know love, if you wanted a good time you could have picked anything other than this slag…”

He looked at the boy

“Now leave this fucking house you twat”

The boy scrammed running out, leaving his clothes and dignity behind and Simon looked at you, you looked at him and you looked disappointed in yourself and he sighed walking up to you, he caressed your chin and had you look up at him.

“Has he ever pleased you love..?”

You shook your head no, and you kept eye contact with him, he nodded leading you to your bed, he had you sit on it as he crouched in front of you.

“Then how bout you let me take care of you hm..?”

You thought about it, and soon you nodded once again, he lifted your legs to hang over his shoulders, he lifted his mask above his mouth and kept your legs parted with his hands that were now gripping the plush of your thighs, his breath fanned on your sensitive clit before he began to eat you alive, Your fingers are tangling in his hair, pulling and tugging at the roots until he lets out a low groan.at this exact moment nothing more matters to him than to have you cumming all over his tongue over and over, sweet juices coating every inch of his mouth until it’s all he can taste

His movements continue on for a few more minutes.

“simon..,”

you whimper, and your core tightens as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“C-Can’t take much more… Gonna—fuck—gonna cum”

simon's hips buck against the mattress to their own will, and his eyes pierce through your skull as he chases the stimulation against his neglected cock. He's desperate, starving, driven with the need to hear you cry out his name until your voice becomes hoarse. He can’t stop, not now, not when your thighs are shaking around his head and his tongue is swirling around your clit. his dick aches and leaks, he thinks he might be close to, he is sure of it when he throbs in his boxers at the sound of your whimpers.

Your juices are coating his tongue with the sweetest taste and his ears are ringing with your pleas, but he isn't even satisfied yet.

“Hmmm love…?” he mutters against your cunt, his lips ghosting over your throbbing clit and tongue flicking against it. “You want more?”

He buries his face between your legs, feels your body convulse and your mouth let out soft whimpers.he can hear a low rumble in the back of his skull and feels a fire ignite in his guts and his teeth are nipping at your thigh and his mouth his slick with your juices, tears streaming down your face .

“That's it, doll..,”

he coos down at you, his tongue running laps around your sore clip until you're seeing stars burst behind your eyes.

“Show me how good I make you feel. Go on, keep crying, you dirty slut…, let me see your tears”

You came undone on his tongue, your body jolting and convulsing with each stroke of his tongue, he bit into your thigh leaving a bruising tooth mark as he kissed it, he had to leave his mark somehow? He leaned his head against your inner thigh and admired how peaceful our sleeping body was, proud of how he was the one that caused this.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #yrsdf fic #ghost smut #ghost mw2 #innocence #innocent!reader #dom!simon #mdni banners #smut #not safe fw #no minors allowed #minors dni #mdni #minors do not interact

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sevikasenby · 5 months

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im not arguing with 6 foot tall brute with a mech arm and silver eyes, whatever you say babygirl

#men and minors dni #bc i keep forgetting my fucking dni banner 😒#idk have this #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane

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willsgraphics · 3 months

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MDNI Banners ★

If you’d like any other colors shoot me an ask!

Like or reblog + credit if you use/save please!

#dni banners #dni banner #minors dni banner #minors dni #banners #banner #divider #rainbow dividers #rainbow banners #graphics #dividers #minors or ageless blogs will be blocked #mdni banners #mdni divider #mdni dividers

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mikeykuns · 1 year

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Like/Reblog if you use — no credit necessary

#minors dni banner #minors dni #simple dividers #dni banner #transparent minors dni banner #minors dni divider #neutral dividers #neutral hex codes #neutral banner #mikeykuns dividers

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inklore · 6 months

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— feel free to request more colors.

like or reblog if you use them please!

#content dividers #minor dni banner #fic dividers #18+ banners #content banners #author dividers #writer dividers #fic banners #18+ dividers #writer banners #banners #dividers #black banners #black dividers #white banners #ʚ laurs art ɞ

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welcome-to-sparkys · 6 months

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5 + 1 - SecurityWaiter trying to get it on

Requested by @lab-trash

A/N I've never done anything like this before but I'm excited!!! I really struggled with this one though lol made me think.

MINORS DNI

Tags: Mildly suggestive, voyeurism, car sex, blowjob, handjob mention, Mike x ness, securitywaiter, dreamtheory

1. On the couch after Abby went to bed

The two thought this would be the most logical option, Ness especially. They just didn't calculate how difficult it would be to stay quiet, especially with Abby's toys and crayons around the living room. Also, clean up. They didn't have lube on hand too, and while Ness knew a few DIY recipes, Mike just didn't want to risk it. Abby tip toed out of her bedroom, hearing their squabble. She thought the two were fighting. Ness soon had her back in bed. After all that trouble, they decided to snuggle together and snooze to the soft sound of the TV.

2. Mike's home Round 2

This time they waited for Abby to be on an overnight field trip. Mike cleaned up the house to the best of his ability and even bought a rose to pluck the petals and toss all over the bed (it wasn't nearly enough). Ness's heart melted at the gesture. He sat on the bed while Mike ran off to go shower. As Mike came back to the room, dewy from the shower and in nothing but a towel, he slipped and fell. Poor Mike broke his nose and they spent the rest of their date at the ER.

3. In the car

It was... Not a good idea. Elbows and knees bumping into eyes and faces. Uncomfortable as hell, and the weather didn't really permit these activities. Plus, Mike was terrified someone might see them (This was Ness's idea).

4. Public Bathroom

Another one of Ness's ideas!!! (The little freak). Mike was a flustered mess when Ness just dragged him into the disability stall and started tugging at his waist band. Ness's plan probably would have worked too, if someone in a wheelchair waiting for the stall didn't clear their throat and ask when the boys would be finished.

5. Road Head

Surprisingly, Mike's idea. Well, a handjob but Ness was a little too eager and went for the full on blowjob. Mike thought it would be fine because he was taking back roads to their date destination, that is until he saw the police lights. He muttered some "shit" s and "fuck" s as Ness struggled to fix Mike's pants. It was just Vanessa abusing her position of power to pull them over and say hi (and also get the tea on her OTP)

1. Sparky's After hours (this may become a full on fic)

Mike was so exhausted when Ness's shift was finally over, but he was surprised to find the diner completely empty, with the lights off and kitchen closed for the night. Ness had tipped out the staff to leave a little extra early and he did all the cleaning duties alone. He certainly found it worth it as he convinced Mike to toss him on a table and rail him into oblivion.

#5 + 1 fic #5 + 1 things #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #securitywaiter #mike schmidt #dreamtheory #ness the waiter #mike x ness #minors DNI #nsft #dreamtheory nsft #securitywaiter nsft #ns/fw #smut #fnaf smut #divider/banner is by @cafekitsune

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h8ani · 7 months

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𝙎𝙚𝙚 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡, 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡

Kinktober Day 6 - Sensory Deprivation

Pairing: Feitan Portor x Reader

Anime: Hunter x Hunter

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of kidnapping, reader has senses stripped from her (blindfold, tied up, earplugs), vibrator usage, lowkey Stockholm syndrome type vibes, punishment, edging, overstimulation

A/N: thank you @kkittycries for proofreading this for me god knows I needed it 🥲🥲

It's been who knows how long, you think it's been at least a year, maybe less since the day you were taken. Time moved so differently at first.

You were trapped in the basement with only a bucket to use and had a small, thin, worn down mattress to sleep on. You had no concept of time when you were down there. It was always dark and cold and you spent most of your days/nights crying until you were exhausted and sleep had come over you.

The more compliant you got, the more privileges you were given but even then it wasn't much.

You've asked him how long it's been but all he gives is a gruff scoff and a simple reply of "Long."

Now you've stopped asking, you do as he wants to try to please him. By now you've upgraded from the basement, to the guest bedroom upstairs. Although, when he wants you in his room for the night you stay there.

Feitan by no means is the word soft or even kind but, the longer you've stayed in the house and the longer you've done what you're told he's been in his own way nicer to you. He allows you to add some of your own food you'd like to the grocery list, you have a nicer mattress in your room, he even leaves you alone most of the time which is a blessing in itself. You still aren't allowed to leave the house other than to go out to the backyard, the fence is so high that you wouldn't even be able to climb to escape but the fresh air was always nice too. There's been a few rare occasions where you've left the house but it's always been well into the night with him alongside you.

It's also rare that you've actually been punished.

There's been small punishments like not being given food for a few days or when your mattress was taken from you so you had to sleep on the floor, but he's never taken a blade to your skin, never harmed you, he's never tortured you like he does to his victims he brings to the house.

You're grateful for that.

But.

What you're enduring now, you've never been punished like this before, if this can even be considered a punishment.

The rope bound around your wrists was tight, rough and uncomfortable. Every move you made to free yourself burned your tender skin, your movements useless from how tightly knotted the rope connected to his bedpost was, the little strength you had doing no good. He had put a blindfold over your eyes and that was surprisingly soft, you think it was a satin material but you no longer having your sight only heightened all the emotions running through your body. You were no longer able to see Feitan or see what he was doing. You didn't even know where he was in the room. You tried focusing on the only sense you had left which was your hearing, you had focused on every little sound in the bedroom but Feitan ended up taking that away from you too. Earplugs were soon put in diminishing the last sense you had.

You were completely cut off from your senses. No sight, no hearing, not even a simple touch.

The only thing you were able to feel was your impending orgasm which was continually cut short.

You didn't have a clue as to why Feitan had started this punishment. You didn't try to escape from him, you haven't tried that since the first time you were brought up from the basement. You always make sure to keep the house locked up when he was gone, curtains always drawn closed, windows locked, doors locked, you don't even go to the backyard when he's not home. That couldn't have been the reason. You were completely clueless as to why you were tied up and being tortured like this.

You clench around nothing as the vibrator pushes harder against your clit, the pressure was enough for a choked moan to leave your lips as the vibrations traveled through your body.

You can hear him scoff as he clicks the vibrator intensity up one sending you back on the edge of orgasm. Your hips rolling into the vibrator just wanting to feel release.

"You aren't meant to enjoy this." Feitan says lowly knowing you couldn't hear him, he clicks the vibrator up one more and within seconds you tip over the edge finally being able to reach the orgasm you've so rudely been getting taken away from you. Your body jerking as you let your orgasm flood your senses, wrists tugging against the rope as you cry out his name. This was the most intense orgasm you've felt and Feitan wasn't letting up as he kept the vibrator pushes up against your sensitive clit.

You were panting as you rode out your high, squirming away as best as you can from the abusive vibrator between your legs. Pushing against the bed with your feet to get away, you felt Feitan's hand grip your hip and tug you back down.

"I'm sorry." You quickly say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You repeat the same apology over and over just wanting to get away from the pleasure that was slowly trailing into pain. "Feitan I'm sor-"

His lips cut you off, his body leaning more into yours which put more pressure on the vibrator. You whimpered into the kiss, tears threatening to spill beneath the blindfold.

He said something to you but it just sounded muffled due to the earplugs. Your brows scrunched up in frustration because of your lack of hearing. You huffed a sigh and before you could ask what he said, you felt the vibrator pull away from you, instantly calming you down and allowing you to actually come down from your prolonged high.

Your earplugs came out next and Feitan's voice sounded louder than ever.

"Sorry for what?" Feitan doesn't necessarily joke around but you could hear him teasing you clear as day.

"I'm sorry for...what I did."

"And what did you do?" He leans down, breath fanning your face and you didn't need to see to know he had a smirk plastered on his face.

"Maybe if you actually told me I'd know! I think you're just doing this because you find it amusing!" You snap at him, frustration getting the better of you.

He doesn't reply and that alone makes you nervous. It's completely silent but you feel him shift back down to your thighs spreading them further. He slowly rakes his nails down your thigh and then up again, you think he actually might be done, hoping he got bored of this punishment he was putting you through.

Then you hear the vibrator being clicked on again.

You could feel your stomach drop as he tsks at you again.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to continue until you remember."

#kinktober #kinktober day 6 #sensory deprivation #Feitan #feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan portor x reader #Feitan x you #Feitan portor x you #hxh x you #hxh x reader #hxh #Hunter x Hunter #feitan hxh #feitan imagines #Feitan portor imagines #Feitan fics #Feitan portor fics #BENKEIBEAR MADE THE MINORS DNI AND SUPPORT BANNER

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dudeitiskarev · 30 days

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Colored waves 18+ only banners🍒

Please reblog if you use

#dni banner #minors dni banner #dni

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zazter-den · 4 months

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#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #minors dni #zaz drabbles #Originally from Apothecary Diaries #banner by @cafekitsune

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purriteen · 3 months

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Ad victor spolia, chapter two

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure

but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next

word count: 3,345

Previous chapter

Next chapter

You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.

At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.

Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.

When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.

Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew.

The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it.

You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.

Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.

Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.

Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain.

A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.

You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous.

You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris.

Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.

You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing.

As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you.

You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.

A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.

Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.

You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year.

You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’.

Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet.

Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.

Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.

You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born.

There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving.

Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.

Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him.

Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.

It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.

You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.

When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you.

You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her.

Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.

You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.

Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.

You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.

Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.

When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.

The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner.

But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.

Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror.

You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you.

You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.

When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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