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Hi! I just read "we belong together" and it was so bone chillingly good. The way you're able to make a reader feel like their really trapped not only in the relationship with Kuvira but in conversation with her as well does a good job at making it act as a symbol of the abusive relationship. You're incredible. I genuinely cannot wait to read more of your work. Cheers!
thank you so much omggg!!!
I’ve never had someone comment like this, so this is so exciting. It took me a while to be happy with it since I’ve never really experience such a relationship. But I’m overjoyed that you got the feel I was going for !!!
I’ve been on hiatus longer than I initially planned, so I’ve decided to participate in Kinktober/Monstober this year to try rekindle my love for fanfiction.
So far, I’ve got around 15 monster pairings planned out. However, I’m taking on requests for specific characters and kinks etc.
I will write: character x reader and character x character, female x female, female reader
I won’t write: scat, age play, pedophilia, rape, male reader, male character
HIII!! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 100TH+ FOLLOWERS!!! I saw that u take requests at the moment and I have a Hange Zoe fanfic idea that I've been CRAVING for.
Okay SO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. Rock star Hange x fem! Reader..😫😫 I'M GETTING SO MUCH NO NAME BAND MEMBER HANGE ZOE BRAIN ROT LIKEE 💥💥💥
It can be both sfw and nsfw (I'm not a minor btw) I'M WILLING TO DEVOUR ANY HANGE FF ATP 🙏🙏
Again, congratulations on your 100th followers and welcome backkk!!<3
Hi! So so sorry this took a good seven months to get posted. But I hope you enjoy :)
I want you | Hange Zoe x F!Reader
Summary: Rockstar Hange smut… that’s it. 18+
Word count: 3.4k
The first time Hange invited you to one of their shows, you almost laughed.
It wasn’t that you didn’t believe them—you’d heard the rumors from coworkers, snippets of conversation about how Hange plays in a band or how they “vanish after work shifts for rehearsals. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard of “The Scouts” before either But Hange, the same Hange who stole your coffee when you weren’t looking, who turned every boring work meeting into a barely-contained circus, who once nearly set the break room microwave on fire… that Hange, a rockstar? It was hard to wrap your head around.
You sat at your desk, mindlessly typing up your recent research into the digital database. Hange looked over your shoulder, pestering you relentlessly about coming to watch them play, their presence as irritating as a fly.
“C’mon, you have to come…” they whined in your ear for the upteempth time, grinning that wide, reckless grin that often accompanied them. “I promise you’ve never seen anything like it!”
You cursed under your breath at their ability to get under your skin, wearing you down until you eventually conceded their request. Maybe it was the way their eyes gleamed with mischief, or maybe it was the curiosity that had been gnawing at you for months, but somehow, you found yourself standing in a dark, crowded venue. A subtle buzz lit up the room, the music so loud that the bass thrummed through the floorboards, sending vibration after vibration rippling through your weary bones.
“The Scouts” were playing once more at your local dive bar- just as they did every week. Most of the fan base, a very small one at that, knew of them because of their lead singer, Mikasa. A woman gifted with a voice that challenged Sandalphon themselves, each angelic syllable falling from her mouth with flawless ease, layered in a thick balm of perfection.
Though she was not who you wanted to see.
The venue smelled like sweat, beer, and the distinct metallic tang of old speakers pushed past their limit. Your nose scrunched up at the acrid scent and you desperately tried not to feel out of place, but this was definitely not your scene. The crowd was packed shoulder to shoulder, buzzing with anticipation, faces lit up by the dim glow of neon stage lights. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect; some semi-decent garage band, perhaps, something rough around the edges.
Then the lights cut out, and the crowd exploded.
A drumbeat hit, slow and deliberate, followed by the deep growl of a bass guitar. The energy shifted, sharp and electric, energy pulsing through the room as squeals of excitement sounded out. Then—them.
Hange stormed the stage like they owned it, hair wild, eyes alight with something feverish. A look you recognised. One similar to the gleam they got in their eyes once they discovered something remarkable. They were drenched in sweat before the first song even started, gripping the mic like a lifeline, their voice raw and commanding as they sang the backing vocals aiding Mikasa.
Slim and lengthy. Their fingers gripped the bass, expertly manipulating the instrument into doing their bidding. They oozed confidence, a stark difference to the awkward coworker you were used to speaking to.
You stared. You couldn’t help it.
This wasn’t the Hange you knew. Not entirely.
The chaos was still there, the manic energy present in the movements of their fingers, the unfiltered intensity, but it was controlled, sharpened into something magnetic. They weren’t just performing. They were consuming the space, taking everything and giving even more back. This was where they thrived… and it was magnetising.
You watched them with great intensity, unwilling to miss even the slightest thing. A frenzied look accompanied their sweeping gaze, eyes scanning the crowd as best they could against the blinding stage lights. Looking… searching…
And then they found you.
A slow grin curled across their lips. Their grip on their bass tightened and within an instant everything about the performance changed. Hange’s voice dripped with something teasing, something dangerous, and suddenly, every lyric felt too pointed, too personal as they sung alongside Mikasa. They held your gaze as they sang, never breaking eye contact, letting every note, every rasping breath, sink into your skin. You watched them, observed the way they directed their show towards you.
Your pulse hammered in your ears. Face flushed as the sea of bodies surrounding you melted away, leaving just you and Hange. Hange and you.
Their change in tone was deliberate.
A subtle message laced with unsaid feelings, sheltered away for years in fear of rejection. But you had came. You were here to watch them, here to hear them play, hear them sing. And they would make sure you would not regret it.
After the show, you lingered. Maybe you should’ve left, pretended you hadn’t felt the weight of their stare, but something kept your feet rooted to the floor. It was disappointing to watch them walk away, their gaze leaving yours as they disappeared backstage.
You startled when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Hange wants to see you backstage.” she murmured, voice gruff and unforgiving. You followed behind her, allowing her to guide you to the person you wished to see.
The dressing room was dimly lit, the scent of sweat and stale beer lingering in the air. Clothes were strewn over a battered couch, half-empty bottles cluttering the table. You rolled your eyes at the mess, an unfortunate habit Hange could never seem to shake. Although you couldn’t help but smile at their personality still shining through despite the change in setting, Hange was still Hange despite the setting. They sat perched on the armrest, still radiating heat from the stage, a towel slung around their neck, damp strands of hair clinging to their forehead as they lazily wiped the sweat off their brow.
They looked up as you stepped inside and grinned.
“You actually came,” they teased, tossing the towel aside and standing to meet you.
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. “You invited me.” you murmur, swatting at their sweaty hand that tried to poke your cheek. Annoying as always.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d show.” They leaned forward, gaze heavy. Eyes seemingly searching your face for… something. “And I definitely didn’t think you’d stay.”
Something in their voice made the air shift. The playful edge was still there, but underneath it was something darker. Something more intense. You shifted in your spot, eyes flitting around the room in a pathetic attempt to ignore the growing tension in the room.
“You put on a good show.” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet their own.
Hange hummed, tapping their fingers against their thigh. “You think so?” They tilted their head. “You’ve never come before. Will you come again?”
Your breath hitched. The question was innocent enough, but the way they said it… the way they stared at you suggested that it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. You tongued at your teeth, mulling over your answer before slightly nodding in reply.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you,” they admitted, voice dropping lower, rough from singing and breathy from exhaustion. “It was distracting.”
“Yeah?” you murmur breathlessly.
“Tell me something.” Their fingers brushed against your wrist, featherlight, teasing. “Was it just the music?”
Your mouth opened then closed, just to repeat the pattern as you grappled to form a reply. “Wa-Was what just the music?”
“That look in your eye,” they hummed, intertwining their fingers with your own. “The mesmerisation…”
You shivered at their proximity. Hange laughed, soft and breathless.And then they moved.One second, you were standing stiff, locked in some unspoken game. The next, Hange’s lips crashed against yours, urgent and desperate, like they’d been holding back for far too long. The taste of sweat and something heady, the lingering bite of alcohol, hit your tongue as Hange pressed closer, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp.
They took advantage of the sound immediately, tilting their head to deepen the kiss, their teeth grazing over your bottom lip before sucking it between their own. A low, satisfied hum vibrated in their throat when you instinctively clutched at their shirt, pulling them closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between you.
Hange’s hands weren’t still for a second, moving as much as they could in an attempt to explore every inch of you. One slid down your back, pressing firmly against the curve of your spine to keep you trapped against them, while the other wandered- over your shoulder, down your arm, skimming the side of your waist. Their fingertips danced along the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath, palm splaying flat against your skin, sending a shiver rippling through you.
“Fuck,” they murmured against your lips, voice husky. “You feel even better than I imagined.”
They had imagined you? The feel of your skin beneath their fingers?
Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your stomach. “You-”
They kissed you again, swallowing whatever you had been about to say. This time, it was slower but no less intense; more deliberate, like they wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way you responded to every brush of their lips, every teasing flick of their tongue.
You let them. Wanted them to. You had been waiting for this just as long as they had.
Your hands moved without thinking, skimming over their shoulders, feeling the tension coiled beneath their sweat-dampened shirt. When your nails scraped lightly against the nape of their neck, Hange groaned, their grip tightening on your waist as they pushed you back until the backs of your knees hit something solid.
A couch.
Before you could react, Hange guided you down onto it, crawling over you in one fluid motion. They barely gave you a second to breathe before their lips were on you again, trailing down your jaw, your neck, anywhere they could reach, nipping and sucking until heat coiled dangerously low in your stomach.
“You should’ve come to a show sooner,” they murmured against your skin, grinning as you shivered beneath them. “I would’ve done this ages ago.”
You were not granted the privilege of a response before they captured your lips again, stealing every last thought from your mind.
Hange’s lips left a trail of heat down your neck, their breath warm, teasing, as they lingered just long enough to make you squirm. You could feel them grinning against your skin, reveling in every reaction they pulled from you.
“You’re sensitive,” they murmured, voice thick with amusement. “That’s cute.”
A retort sat on the tip of your tongue but it vanished the moment their hands started to wander. Their fingers brushed under your shirt again, firmer this time, palms gliding up the bare skin of your waist, sending goosebumps scattering in their wake. The way they touched you- slow, purposeful, like they were savoring every second- made your head spin.
“Lift your arms for me,” Hange murmured, their voice a low command despite the gentle tone they used.
You obeyed without thinking, letting them peel your shirt off, their eyes darkening as they took in the newly exposed skin. They hummed appreciatively, fingers tracing lazy circles along your rib cage before sliding up to cup your chest, thumbs flicking teasingly over your nipples.
Your breath hitched, hips shifting instinctively to seek relief. And once Hange noticed, their grin turned wicked.
“You’re already so needy for me,” they teased, rolling a nipple between their fingers. “What happened you being adamant that you wouldn’t come to my concert?”
Heat pooled low in your stomach at their actions, heightened by the teasing lilt of their voice. “Shut up.”
Hange chuckled, leaning down to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss between your breasts, then another, lower this time. Their tongue flicked against your skin, leaving wet trails in their wake, before they sucked gently. Just enough to make you gasp.
They took their time working their way down your body, fingers making quick work of the button on your trousers, tugging them down inch by inch. Their lips followed, brushing over your hip bone then the sensitive dip of your lower stomach.
“You’re already so warm,” they mused, slipping a hand between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear. The pressure was light, too light, just enough to make you throb with anticipation.
“Hange,” you breathed in frustration, desperate for them to do something. Anything.
They tsked, fingers tracing teasing patterns over the damp fabric. “Patience,” they murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “I want to take my time with you.”
And they did.
Hange kissed down the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate, their hands pressing your legs apart with ease. When they finally hooked their fingers under the waistband of your underwear and dragged them down, they groaned, their breath hot against your bare skin.
“Fuck,” they murmured, their voice rough with desire. “Look at you.”
Their fingers slid through your slick folds, gathering the wetness that had gathered there, spreading it slowly. The teasing pace made your toes curl and your hips lifted in a silent, desperate plea for more.
Hange chuckled, but there was an edge to it now. Something hungry, something almost possessive.
“So eager,” they murmured. “Guess I’ll have to make this worth your while.”
Then their mouth was on you, tongue pressing firm and slow against your most sensitive spot and your world shattered.
Hange’s tongue flicked against your clit, light and teasing at first, just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. Then, they flattened their tongue, pressing firmly, dragging it in slow, deliberate strokes that had your thighs trembling.
Your fingers found their way into their hair, tangling in the damp, oily strands as you gasped at the heat of their mouth. Hange groaned against you, the vibration sending a new wave of pleasure rolling through your core.
“Fuck,” you breathed, hips jerking involuntarily.
Hange chuckled against you, hands tightening around your thighs, holding you in place. “Stay still for me,” they murmured, before dipping their tongue lower, slipping between your folds, tasting you like they’d been starving for it.
The slow, steady pace was maddening. Every flick of their tongue, every careful suck, every teasing movement designed to unravel you inch by inch. They savored you, like they had all the time in the world, like they wanted to make you beg for it.
You squirmed against their hold, breath hitching as they circled your clit with precise, lazy strokes. “Hange—”
They hummed, their grip tightening. “Mhm. Say my name like that again.”
Your head fell back against the couch, a moan spilling from your lips as they sucked gently on your clit once more, rolling it between their lips before pressing two fingers against your entrance.
They didn’t push in right away. Instead, they traced the slick heat in a teasing display, pressing just enough to have you writhing before finally easing inside.
The stretch was slow, deliciously filling, their fingers curling just right as they started a steady rhythm. Their mouth never left you, their tongue working in tandem with each thrust, each stroke bringing you closer, winding the coil in your stomach impossibly tight.
You could barely think, could barely breathe. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Hange and Hange alone.
Hange was relentless, building you up with devastating precision, their fingers pressing against that perfect spot inside you, their mouth driving you higher, higher, until your entire body went taut.You came with a sharp cry, pleasure crashing over you in waves, thighs trembling as Hange worked you through it, their movements softening only when you started to whimper from overstimulation.
They pulled away slowly, leaving one last kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. Their pupils were blown wide, their lips swollen, their expression utterly wrecked with desire. A direct mirror of your own ruined expression.
“Fuck,” they rasped, grinning as they leaned over you. “You’re incredible.”
You were still catching your breath when they slotted their body against yours, their hips pressing firmly between your legs. You could feel how hard they were through their jeans, could feel the barely restrained hunger thrumming through them.
Your pulse quickened again as their fingers traced your jaw, tilting your face up to meet theirs.
“I hope you didn’t think we were done,” they murmured, lips ghosting over yours. “I’ve got a lot more planned for you.”
And with that, they kissed you again, slow and deep, stealing whatever was left of your resolve. Hange kissed you deep, their tongue still tasting of you, their hands firm as they gripped your hips, pressing you further into the couch. Their body was warm against yours, muscles tensed with barely restrained hunger. You could feel the slow roll of their hips, the unmistakable pressure between your thighs making your breath hitch.
“You’re still ready for me, aren’t you?” they murmured, voice thick with amusement and desire. They dragged their lips down your throat, sucking just enough to leave a mark before whispering against your skin. “Bet you’ve thought about this before.”
You whimper softly at the feel of the strap between their legs. “You always wear that?”
They smirk against your throat, nudging their nose against you but not offering a reply. Your fingers dug into their back, heat spreading through you as they rocked against you again, slow and teasing, building anticipation with every deliberate movement. You barely registered the sound of something being unbuckled, the rustle of fabric, before Hange was nudging your legs apart, positioning themselves between them.
The first press against you was firm and unyielding, a deliberate contrast to their teasing from before. They didn’t rush. Instead, they let the moment stretch, rubbing slow circles along your hips as they guided themselves forward, inch by inch, sinking into you with a patience that was almost maddening.
Your breath caught, pleasure building steadily as they filled you completely. Hange groaned, gripping your waist as they stilled for a moment, savoring the sight of you around them. “Fuck,” they exhaled, voice rasping. “You look so fucking pretty.”
Then they moved.
The first thrust was slow, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, sending shivers rippling through your body. They set a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before pressing back in, their hips rolling with practiced ease. Every movement was controlled and precise, meant to pull every possible sound from your lips.
“You like this, don’t you?” Hange panted. They leaned down, catching your mouth in a searing kiss as their pace quickened, thrusts hitting deeper, harder. “Taking me so well. Fuck, look at you.”
You couldn’t form words. Not when pleasure was blooming in your core, winding tighter and tighter with every snap of their hips. Your fingers clawed at their back, desperate for something to hold onto as they drove into you with increasing intensity.
Hange was relentless, grinning against your lips when you moaned, when you gasped their name, when your body arched to meet every movement. “I want to hear you,” they murmured, biting gently at your jaw before moving to your ear. “Let go for me.”
And you did.
The pleasure crested and crashed over you in waves, your body tensing before shuddering apart beneath them. Hange groaned, fucking you through it, their grip tightening as they chased their own release, grinding deep until they finally stilled, breathless and shaking.
For a long moment, the only sounds were your mingled breaths, the soft hum of the backstage world still buzzing just outside the door. Then Hange pulled back just enough to press a lingering kiss to your lips, their usual teasing grin making a lazy return.
“Well,” they murmured, fingers tracing light patterns over your waist. “You’re definitely coming to the next show.”
You let out a breathless laugh, still hazy from pleasure. “Yeah,” you admitted, smiling up at them. “I think I will.”
Hange chuckled, their weight warm and comforting against you. And as you lay tangled together, still catching your breath, you had the distinct feeling that this was far from the last time you’d find yourself in a situation like this.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Halloween is getting close and things are about to get chilling! 🕷️Welcome to the ARCANEWEEN event, from October 25th to 31st, all Arcane creators are invited to join in and let your imagination run wild with these eerie prompts 🕸️ I bring you TWO versions of the event so that you're never stuck on one prompt! So feel free to post anything you wish for these prompts, whether you choose to go for art, fanfics, edits, moodboards, or any others, it'll be thrilling to see.
Important things to know:
1. NSFW is allowed, but please tag and censor it properly so that we can ensure a safe space for everyone.
2. You don't need to do every prompt or post every single day, you can simply work with what makes you feel comfortable, this is all for fun.
Remember to use the tag #arcaneween with your works. if you'd like, you can also tag me! Have fun!
I hit 100+ followers a while back but due to my recent inactivity I haven’t done much about it. I’d like to celebrate in some form of way so please send asks/requests into my inbox! (Cheekily using this to finally write for even more of my fandoms)
NSFW and SFW are fine!
My aim for each fic will be 1,500- 5,000 words (if it runs over it runs over)
Please send ideas my way/ things you’d like to seen written!
iam motaz a nurse from Gaza .. married to fedaa a pediatrician .. father of 3 lovely children ..
writing to you these words with tearing eye and a heavy heart ..
it is not easy for me to ask for help from other but being a father of these lovely kids makes me very responsible for their safety and protection so i have to do any thing to keep them safe ..
we lost every thing because of this violent war !
Life here became unaffordale and unsafe for any human ..
please please help me carry my children to safety ..
i wish my words could explain even little abit of what i am carring in my heart
Vetted by 90-ghost
Please donate if you can and share widely 🆘🆘 1100 SEK = 100 dollars each (55 sek =5$) will make a difference🙏🍉 be the one who saves us
Hello, I hope you and your family are well. Can you please help me recycle the post on my account? 🌺 And help rescue my family from the war in Gaza? 🙏 Thank you.
Summary: Grayson gets needy after a certain someone flirts with you at a gala. Or, service top! Grayson with a breeding kink. 18+
Word count: 2.8k
A/N: Finally finished my @arcanefans4gaza piece for @linbeifongismywife . Hope you enjoy!
Every annum Piltover holds a gala, inviting ambassadors and rulers from every nation; a way to enhance trade and strengthen relationships Grayson has told you once. Grayson was invited solely due to her status and sheriff and you, her wife, invited as her plus one. She had bought you a deep, sapphire blue dress for the occasion- a perfect complement to her suit of the same shade.
You had lost Grayson somewhere in the crowd a little while ago, it wasn’t as if your presence would be missed by the elite, so you enjoyed the moment of solitude by the bar. Your eyes watched the scarlet liquid swirling around in your glass, before raising to scan the room for your lover once more.
Although, your search was disrupted faster than it had started when a rich voice greeted you. You turned, then, to peer at the woman who had disturbed you. A burly woman twice your size towered over you, dark eyes watching you, sizing you up as if you were mere prey. She grinned at you, a lazy, wolfish grin that had you faltering slightly.
“Hello. And you are?” You questioned lightly, hoping she wouldn’t get offended at you not knowing her name.
“Medarda.” She replied, extending her hand towards yours. Although her hands were more like that to a bear's paws rather than human. “Ambessa Medarda.”
“Ah right. You must be Councillor Medarda’s mother?” How could she not be, they radiated the same energy.
“That’s right. And you?”
“Oh, nobody of importance really. I’m here with my wife.” You explained, hoping that the mention of your wife would get her to back off.
“I don’t see your wife anywhere. What kind of woman leaves a pretty lady, such as yourself, all on her lonesome?”
You glanced around the room once more, desperately trying to spot Grayson amongst the masses of people. Her eyes locked onto yours, smiling slightly before her gaze locked onto Ambessa. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, not enough for anybody to notice, but you weren’t just anybody.
“Interesting.”
“What?” You replied, forgetting your manners for the time being. Your patience with the warlord was swiftly thinning. Why couldn’t she just take the hint that you weren’t interested?
She just hummed at you, the corners of her mouth lifting up into an all knowing smirk. You scoffed slightly at her antics. How could one woman be so insufferable? Grayson was making her way towards you, parting the sea of bodies that kept you separated with her presence alone.
You couldn’t help but smile softly at your wife’s approaching form; believe it or not, you had missed her dearly in the mere moments that you were apart. Her hair had recently been cut, falling just above her the tip of ears, the odd strand of grey contrasting against her mass of inky hair, in a way that somehow accentuated her handsome features even more.
“Gray.” You breathed in relief once she settled by your side, her hand snaking around you before it rested over your stomach. Her nose brushed against the side of your head in greeting, a smile of her own casted right back at you.
Ambessa cleared her throat to gain your and Grayson’s attention. Grayson looked at her then, her eyebrow raised in question. That sly grin contorting her mouth upwards once more.
“Sheriff Grayson,” she drawled, a hint of mockery underlying her saccharine sweet tone. “It’s always a pleasure to see you. Although, I’m afraid it is my first time laying eyes upon your sweet wife.”
Grayson chuckled lowly, a gravelly rumble that caused your cheeks to heat with a soft flush as soon as you heard it. Countless years married and her voice still had that effect on you. “Yes well, you’re usually too busy… what do you say? ‘Sampling the local cuisine’ to pay much attention at these events.”
Ambessa laughed at that, loud and boisterous. You cringed slightly as those near you forwent their mindless chatter in order to zero their eyes upon your group. Medarda didn’t seem to mind though and Grayson stood stoically at your side. Perhaps your lack of exposure to the public eye made you more vulnerable to the judgement of others.
You tuned out the rest of the conversation. Instead focussing on the steady beat of Grayson’s heart beneath your ear. Her hand unoccupied by her glass of whisky drew mindless circles into the flesh of your hip as she continued her, albeit unwanted, conversation with Ms Medarda.
A tug on your arm drew you back to the present. Steely grey eyes looked down at you through hooded eyelids, a pleasant smile curved upwards on her face. She whispered, low in your ear, her rumbling voice sending shivers down your spine. You found yourself agreeing, although you can’t exactly be certain about what you had just agreed to. But, Grayson was your wife and you would agree to anything when it came to her.
Her large hand clasped your own, grip firm but soft; pulling enough to get you moving but gentle enough not to harm you. Once again, the sea of bodies parted for her and you found yourself enraptured with the sheer confidence your wife oozed. Out here she was respected, feared even, the residents of Piltover quaked in her stead; her hard gaze was enough to shut anyone up instantly, but with you, with you she was stripped bare. Her emotions were yours to see, yours to cherish and the kind look in her eyes was directed at you alone.
If her officers saw how she acted at home they’d definitely consider her absolutely smitten with you- wrapped around your finger and unable to deviate from your will.
———
Grayson’s crisp shirt sleeves were pushed up, crumpling at her elbow as she kneaded the squishy blob of dough on the kitchen countertop. She had been oddly silent as you had walked home together- the event not being too far from your shared house. You figured she had to be tired after all that socialising … and that would probably be the truth if only she’d look at you.
You sidled up behind her, snaking your hand around her midriff, hugging her larger frame from behind. Short strands of hair tickled your face as you rested against her. She hummed lowly at your presence but made no effort to spark up a conversation.
“What’s made you so quiet?” You mumbled against her back, thumb brushing against her stomach in an effort to coax the answer out of her.
You squeaked in surprise as she suddenly turned around- the dough long forgotten on the counter. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly but soon, along with the rest of her features, schooled themselves into the indifferent facade she often wore around her officers. To say you were bewildered would be an understatement. “Grayson?”
“Would you have taken her up on her offer if I wasn’t there?”
“What?” What on earth was she talking about? You frantically wracked your brain, scouring it for any information that may help you in this conversation; ultimately finding nothing, rendering your search fruitless. “What offer? What are you talking about?”
Her hands grasped yours, thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Medarda. You never gave her an answer.”
Great. Very unhelpful. “Uhm- an answer to what exactly?” You trailed off, voice unsure. You had clearly missed something vital.
Grayson stared at you as if you had a second head. Her look incredulous. “What do you mean, what do I mean?” Her accent was getting thicker, the deep rasp poorly hiding the emotion that lay beneath. “You were right there!”
“Well- I must admit I wasn’t paying any attention after you saved me from her horrendous flirting.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
Her eyes fell to the floor with a soft sigh. You lifted your hands upwards, cupping heated cheeks in the palms of your hands. Oh… you realised, albeit foolishly late. Medarda must have said something that ignited your poor wife’s insecurities, and your silence must have given fuel to the fire. “What did she say?”
“Nothing important…” Grayson grumbled into your hand, pressing a quick kiss there before nuzzling her nose into it.
“It’s important if it’s upsetting you.” You whispered.
She said nothing more, instead opting to shut you up with a searing kiss. Her mouth slotted against yours, needy and desperate as she gripped your hips. Your hands left her face, following the sharp line of her jaw until you reached wisps of hair. She whined into your mouth, attempting to pull you even closer as you scratched your fingers through her hair. You huffed out a breath- half laugh, half sigh. You adored her like this; a whimpering mess desperate for your love and attention.
All for you and you alone.
“What do you want, baby?” You husked into her ear, biting its lobe before soothing over the area with your tongue.
“Please..”
You chuckled at her neediness. Not wanting to make her wait longer than she had to, you pushed her in the direction of the bathroom, ordering her to wash the flour off her hands whilst you got ready upstairs.
She finished washing up faster than you had expected her to. You watched, through hooded eyes, as she approached your form. She slotted herself between your thighs, pressing herself against you in a frantic attempt to get closer. Her mouth found yours once more, kiss after kiss pressed against your lips as she sought the comfort she needed.
The bulge in her trousers rubbed against your clothed core, fuelling your arousal even more. Multiple years of marriage had made this dance second nature. Her hands gripped your hips, vice-like in her desperation. You mewled into her mouth, hips gyrating against hers in an attempt to heighten the small amount of pleasure she is granting you.
She pushed you down with a firm hand resting on your sternum. Your dress rode up, exposing your soaked underwear to her lascivious gaze. You roped your arms around her neck, pulling her down so that her body weight rested on top of you, blanketing you in a comforting warmth that only she could provide.
Her hands moved down to your hips once more, stilling at the hemline of your dress. She looked at you, then, fingers playing with the fabric as she sought your consent. Your quick ‘Go ahead, baby.’ was the only confirmation she needed and her hands made quick work of your dress.
The speed at which she undressed both you and herself never failed to impress you. Although, her dedication to achieving what she wanted has always been one of her most admirable qualities- and so what if that translated well into the bedroom? Her boxers were the last to go, silicone cock springing free as she ushered them off.
You meandered your way backwards on the bed, blinding orienteering yourself so that you were in the centre; she soon followed you, her knees bracketing your own. She kissed you softly, the earlier eagerness melting away into an easy tranquillity shared between the two of you. Calloused hands, rough from years of manual labour, explored your body. Her lips followed in their wake, pressing kiss after kiss to anywhere she could reach.
You gasped in surprise as her mouth laved at your nipple, the other tugged and pinched between her fingertips. She locked eyes with you, that insufferable, cocky smirk she often wore when getting her own way shone up at you. You ‘tsk-ed’ slightly, pulling her head back up so that you could nip at her neck. Each suck and bite was soothed with a kiss, a firm hand in her hair kept her still while you had your way with her. You paused, eyes flicking to hers once you heard her whimper- a quiet sound, easily missable if you weren’t paying rapt attention.
“What was that, my love?” You teased, laughter bubbling as she hid her face in your neck in response. Your laughter was cut short, however, once her hips grinded sloppily against your thighs; whimper after whimper sounding out into your ear. Thank heavens for hex-tech and their straps.
You hushed her slightly, pushing her off you just enough so that you could grab her strap. “Shh, it’s alright, baby. You’ll get what you want.” You mumbled in her ear. A soft kiss was pressed to the top of her head, a slight apology for making her wait so long, before your hand stroked up and down her shaft. She pumped her hips against your hand, chasing the pleasure you were allowing her. It always amused you how awfully desperate she got.
You shushed her whining as your hand retreated. Re-adjusting your legs, so that they were opened wide enough for her to fit comfortably. Her cock was guided to your entrance, the cool material gliding through your slick folds a few times before she finally met her target, bottoming out into you in one thrust. The groan in your ear was heavenly, her arms that had previously been holding herself up hooked under your shoulders, hugging you close to her.
“Can I move?” She asked, voice higher pitched than usual and trailing off into a velvety moan.
“Just a minute, Gray.” You whispered, nails gently raking down her back.
A few moments passed in a comfortable silence, the quiet of the room disturbed by your shared breaths. You gave her the go ahead, causing her to pull away from your neck in order to position herself, and you, how she wanted. She smiled down at you, thumb brushing over your lip a few times. Silly woman, offering herself up for you on a silver platter. Your tongue, warm and wet, kitten licked at the pad of her thumb before drawing it into your mouth. A strong suck had her eyes blown even wider. Her breath hitched as she watched your hollowed cheeks, mind quickly turning to the gutter, thinking of other things you could wrap your soft, pillowy lips around.
Her hips grinded against yours, moving against you before she pulled out, inch by inch. She paused halfway before pushing her length back inside you. She continued like this for a few moments. In and out. In and out. Until she finally pulled out to the tip, shoving herself back into your velvety walls with a sharp thrust. Her pace is punishing and with each heavy punch of her cock, you’re gasping for air; moan after moan tumbling from your lips.
She always gets like this when she’s jealous- pleasure driven and wild with need. Her grunts are quiet. Her chest rising and falling rapidly with the amount of effort it takes to claim you so thoroughly. You made a keening sound, low in your throat, as you arched up into her, grasping at her hair so that you could address her. “Faster. Go faster, my love. It’s alright.”
Her pace picks up, sweat slick skin slapping against your own, the obscene sound of sex and your soaked cunt sounding out into the room. She kisses you, all teeth and tongue, as the tip of her strap nudged against the spongy spot deep within the walls of your inviting heat. You indulge her for a mere moment before pulling away from her, laughing as she chases your lips with a whine. Like a dog being denied a treat.
Deciding to placate her, you leant up to kiss her once more. The coil in your stomach tightened, and by the stutter of her hips you knew that she was close too. Your kiss was broken by her whimper, quickly followed by rope after rope of her seed spilling inside you, filling you thoroughly. She followed her release with a pump of her hips, keeping her come plugged inside you. The last rub against your walls sent you tumbling after her, moaning into her mouth as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through your body.
Her muscled back flexed beneath your touch, her face finding solace in the crook of your neck once more. “You did so good, so perfect for me. Are you feeling better now, hmm?”
An affectionate smile broke out on your face at her muffled confirmation. You pressed a soft kiss behind her ear, her body a comforting warmth blanketing your form. After a few sweet words whispered to her, you attempted to move her off you, wanting to run a bath for the two of you and change the sheets. A muttered ‘no’ was all it took for you to falter in place, deciding that it could wait a few moments. After all, how often was it that you could just cuddle with your beloved wife?
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Summary: The morning of your wedding, Kuvira gets word that you are planning to leave her. But she finds you where she left you- in your room getting ready to be married.
Word count: 800
A/N: With possessive I went the sort of toxic route… so TW for toxic relationships/abusive relationships. Please don’t read if these topics are likely to trigger you in any way, shape or form! Also first time writing possessiveness and it was sort of a struggle, so I apologise if this isn’t what you meant!
The persistent twinge in your upper arm flared up once more, throbbing with quiet protest as you sat and stared at yourself in the luxurious vanity Kuvira had gifted you. Frigid morning air chilled your bedroom, puffing the curtains up before they normally deflated, again and again. Goosebumps rose on your arms, unwinding as they stood.
Hideous shades of green and yellow swirled together on your upper arm, tainting your otherwise flawless skin; a stark reminder of Kuvira’s claim on you. You were her bride to be and she could do whatever she pleased. Even if that meant hurting you in the process. After all, everything she was doing was for your own good- to protect you from those that wished you ill intent.
You stared at the nasty bruise on your arm. She hadn’t meant to do it, not really. It was truly an accident and she had apologised profusely afterwards. She had just gripped you a bit too hard. That was all.
She entered the room with a bang, narrowed eyes looking for you, widening in relief as she saw you. She stalked over to you quietly before wrapping her arms around your shoulders and resting her head on top of yours.
“Kuvira?” You questioned softly. “What are you doing? You know it’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”
Kuvira hummed as she lifted herself off you. She reached for the hairbrush beside you, carefully de-tangling your hair with deliberate movements. “Can I not come and see my beautiful wife-to-be?” She questioned.
“Well… I suppose. But you’ll be seeing me shortly- you know, when I walk down the aisle.” You hummed.
“I missed you..” she admitted. “I had this terrible feeling that you were about to leave. Leave me.”
Your heart sank at her words, your pulse beating just that bit more erratically as you locked eyes with her in the mirror.
“You wouldn’t do such a thing, would you?” She asked, waiting for your response, tightening her grip on you ever so slightly.
“No..” you whispered back.
Her stony expression faded just as fast as it came, replaced with a pleased grin at your words. “You see… I knew that guard was lying- why would you have any reason to leave me? I give you everything you will ever need in life- that’s why I knew that there was no other choice to get rid of her.”
You reached up for her arms still entwined around your neck and pulled them down slightly so that you could swivel in your chair to face her. “A guard?” You questioned carefully, your voice even as you tried not to give anything away.
“Mhm,” she hummed in affirmation, nose leaning in to rub against your own. “She said that you were planning to leave- right before the wedding. Seemed to think she’d have a chance of settling down with you once you escaped.”
“I see…” your fingers rested against her cheeks. Soothing circles rubbed into the soft skin there as you tried to placate her brewing wrath. Yes. You were planning to escape. And, yes. It was supposed to be now.
But something had stopped you. For once you thought about the life you shared with Kuvira, you could only focus on the good. Your mind went straight to the pure love you had shared before she donned the title of ‘Great Uniter’, before she had uprooted your lives, so placed you from your families. Before she had made you solely depended on her and only her.
Perhaps your hesitance came from the memories of before.
Before all this madness started. Before Kuvira became somebody you couldn’t recognise. Before the woman that you loved became a… monster.
Perhaps your hesitance came from you knowing, deep down, that Kuvira was only doing what she believed to be right.
A whisper of your name brought you out of your musings. Her eyes once sharp and judging held a certain lilt of insecurity- and if you looked closely enough, you could see the tears that threatened to fall. “You didn’t answer me..”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You confessed, because you had been too caught up with your own thoughts to take any notice of her.
“You-“ her voice cracked ever so slightly. “You are mine, aren’t you? You’ll never leave me? Never stop being mine?”
Your eyes stared into the green of hers. Today you had chosen to stay but you weren’t sure if that would always be the case, so, instead of answering her verbally, you pulled her into a kiss. One that could hopefully convey the feelings you were so desperately trying to present to her on a silver platter.
And hopefully, she would buy into your ruse for just a while longer. Just until you finally made your love to escape from her clutches.
A/NII: Again, I’m not really happy with this but oh well.
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