How Rafe Walks Into The House After Work, All Annoyed Because Youve Been Teasing Him Over Text Like An

𓊆ྀིhow rafe walks into the house after work, all annoyed because you’ve been teasing him over text like an absolute brat…𓊇ྀི

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. ♥︎ gif credit f!reader, dom & mean!rafe, manhandling, impact play, degradation, a hint of dumbification, short ‘n naughty.

"thought that shit was cute, huh?” rafe barks as soon as he steps into your shared bedroom. his large hands wrap around your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the bed and forcing a squeal out of you. your babydoll dress rides up in the process, exposing your plush thighs and your pretty cunt.

only for him to give your puffy folds a firm spank, the tips of his fingers nudging up on your clit. you kick your legs due to the sting, mewling in a sick mixture of shock and pleasure. and for the record, rafe isn’t surprised you aren’t wearing panties… why would he be when you sent him those slutty pictures? showing off just how much fun you have all by yourself when he’s not home. playing dress up with the expensive lingerie he buys you and playing with things that are his without his permission. he wish he knew— or could even fathom— what’s gotten into you today.

“rafey, i’m sorry!” your sniffling & babbling is cut short.

“nah. save it,” he’s flipping you around with a mean grip on your waist, speaking over your pouty lips. your eyebrows furrow at his words and in return a grin takes over his features, as if he’s been waiting for this, “today is the day you’re gonna learn what happens to dumb, little girls who don’t fuckin’ listen, sweetheart.”

Reader offering her body to viking!simon as an appreciation present for protecting her xx

yes yes absolutely yes everything about this is beautiful

c/w: pillaging, death, murder, blood, loss of virginity, p-in-v sex, you and simon have no game, simon is a blunt dickhead

perhaps the village gets raided in the middle of the night :( rival clan tearing through your lovely town and pillaging it. your husband is immediately storming out of bed, throwing on his armor and grabbing his axe. he’s silent when he picks you up, slings you over his shoulder and throws you into the wardrobe,

“stay.” he commands and you respond with a quick nod of your head, looking up at him with frightened eyes until he slams the doors closed

you’re there for a good hour until you hear movement in your home. you think for a moment it might be simon but you soon hear the sounds of wood splintering and crashing as this invader trashes your home

you keep a hand over your mouth, praying whoever this is decides not to check your hiding place. that was wishful thinking, you realise once the wardrobe door is ripped open and you’re met with the cold eyes of a rival warrior who wastes no time snatching you up and throwing you to the ground, desperate screams immediately leaving your throat

you pray that someone hears you but you’re not hopeful when all you can hear through the closed windows is the muffled sounds of screams, cries and burning buildings

you pick up whatever your trembling hands can reach and throw them at the warrior as you crawl back. but everything just seems to be bouncing off of him, causing no damage whatsoever

you close your eyes when you watch him raise his weapon, ready to bring it down on you. tears slip down your cheeks and you flinch, preparing for your short lived life to be over in such a brutal manner

but no such blow comes, instead you just hear the sounds of gargling. when you open your eyes, you see the soldier on his knees in front of you, your husbands axe hanging from the side of his neck as he chokes to death on his own blood

simon is stood above him, chest heaving and rage clouding his vision as he pulls the axe out, swinging it into the man’s neck one more time for good measure

he looks at you, the storm disappearing from his expression once he sees you trembling on the floor below him, frightened out of your mind. with one arm, he effortlessly scoops you up, holding you against him. with his other hand he retrieves his axe from the corpse at his feet

he carries you out of your destroyed home, not saying a word when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle

“thank you…” you mumble, the delicate brush of your lips tickling his skin, filling him with a warm feeling that he’ll deny ever existed

he grunts in response, hoisting you up when you start to slip in his grip. he doesn’t speak much, is the first thing you figured out about him on your wedding night

you shield your eyes from the bloodshed and horror that now bestows your village, people of your clan lay dead in the once safe streets. simon says nothing as he carries you away from it all,

“is it over?” you ask, taking your face from his neck to look at him. he gives you a firm nod of his head. you don’t say anything about the dried blood he’s coated in, nor the fact that you can feel it staining your nightgown

after a while he carries you to a secluded part of the village, with survivors gathered around and setting up tents. being the second-in-command to the chief was clearly a perk as you and simon had been set up in a small, cozy cabin

“draw me a bath.” his rough voice cuts through the silence, shrugging off his armor and stripping down until he was bare in front of you. it never failed to bring a blush to your cheeks whenever he causally exposed his naked body to you

he hadn’t bedded you once since you had been married, you had shared once chaste kiss at your wedding ceremony and since then he had barely touched you. he didn’t seem particularly interested in having you perform traditional wifely duties, he never rejected it when you offered to bathe him after a long day or when you had dinner presented on the table for him

you both just kind of exist around each other. it hadn’t really dawned on you that he’s never even called you by your name, only speaking to you in blunt sentences

“oi. did you hear me?” he says, stopping to turn to you when he realised you hadn’t moved from your spot. you shake yourself from your thoughts and nod your head, scrambling over to the fire to begin boiling the water for his bath

he carries the heavy pots of boiling water for you, snatching them from your hands when he sees you nearly burn yourself. once his bath was finished, he climbed into the steaming water

you watch him from the bed, chewing on your lip and playing with your fingers as he scrubs his skin with the soap. his back is to you as your map out the scars littering the rippled muscle

you feel indebted to him. whilst he wasn’t the nicest man, he certainly wasn’t the cruelest. he was good to you in a strange way. he never forced himself on you, even on your wedding night. he had never uttered words with intent to hurt your feelings

you stand from your place on the bed and nervously stumble over to the tub, kneeling beside him. he doesn’t look at you when you take a cloth and begin cleaning his back

he lets his hands fall into the water, leaning forward ever so slightly. you notice how his eyes fall shut. he’s probably exhausted, you think to yourself

“would you like me to brush your hair, husband? I… I can-“ you question, looking at him as you run the soap through his hair and making an effort to detangle the mop on his head

“do what you want.” he grunts, shrugging his broad shoulders and dropping them down with enough weight to make the water splash

you nod your head even though he can’t see you. after a few minutes of, quite frankly, uncomfortable silence, you place the soap down as a silent signal that you were finished

he stands to all his glory, 6’4 with water dripping down from his hair all the way down his thigh defined thighs and back into the water. you immediately avert your eyes when you drag your eyes down to his cock, hanging heavy between his legs and pass him a towel

you gather a comb and place a pillow on the floor between your legs. still not bothering to get dressed, he just drops his tired body down leaving you no option but to spread your legs to accommodate his large frame

you spend a good 30 minutes trying to get the comb through his shaggy dirty blond hair but you eventually manage to tame it into a clean and detangled state. you use a tie from your wrist to tie it up into a messy bun so it will stay out of his face

“I-I’m finished…” you say, placing your hands on your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out and tracing the tattoos on his shoulder blades. as you expected, he just gives you a grunt, his way of saying thank you

you stand from the bed, watching as he moves around the room with his back to you

“simon?” you call out with hesitation, “would you… would you like to come to bed… with me?”

he turns to look at you, his brow furrowed with confusion, “I am… I’ll be there in a minute.”

you shake your head, taking your hand up to untie the front of your nightgown, “no… I mean… would you like to be intimate with me?”

you’re certain that your face must be bright red with embarrassment, but you power through as you slip your gown off. you’re stood naked in front of him, shifting on your feet as he stares you down with an unreadable expression

he shifts his whole body to you now, folding his arms over his chest as he looks you up and down

“say something, please.” you squeak out, your hands coming up to poorly cover your breasts. he lets out a small laugh in response and you think you’ve completely humiliated yourself

“you want me to fuck you?” he asks bluntly, taking one hand down to lightly fondle his flaccid cock. you nod your head eagerly, biting your lip

“you ever done tha’ before?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side. he’s quite enjoying this newfound confidence, if you can even call it that. you shake your head, fiddling with your fingers

“it’s gonna hurt.” he warns, raising his eyebrows and scanning your face for any form of hesitation

“will it feel good eventually?” you ask, a small glimmer of hope spreading in your eyes when you realise he’s actually considering your request. you expected him to shoot you down with a laugh

“maybe.” he shrugs, “you still want me to fuck you, little one?”

his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock now, stroking it until it was fully erect. you can’t take your eyes off it, not even to see the cocky smirk across his face

“yes.” you whisper out, “please.”

he cocks his head to the side, “get on the bed. spread your legs.”

you crawl onto the bed, laying on your back and folding your hands across your stomach. you chew on your lip, your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can’t bear to look at him as you spread your legs, giving him a clear view of your most intimate area

“want me to lick your cunt first?”

his words make your pussy ache. his blunt tone would be horrifying on anyone else but you know him now. it’s just who he is. it’s so amazingly him. the question is followed by the sound of spitting and the slick sounds of him stroking his cock

“I- yes- I just- I’m not sure i’ll like it.” you admit, sheepishly. you glance down when you feel the bed shift and his big hands wrap around your thighs. you see him knelt between your legs, lips inches away from your aching pussy

he grunts, and with no warning, he closes the gap and runs his tongue from your opening then all the way up to your clit. he wraps his lips around the bud, giving a harsh suck

you throw your head back, letting out a stuttered moan. your hands shift from their place to his hair, tugging on it and loosening a few strands which fall around his face

he spends a good bit of time trialling things out, learning what you like based on how much you yanked at his hair or bucked your hips

he slips a finger in your entrance once he’s sure you’re wet enough, groaning at the way your legs slam around his head. the feeling of your thighs clenching around his face makes his cock twitch against the mattress

your cunt takes his fingers greedily, sucking around his thick digits when he slips another one in. your hips buck up at his mouth when he flicks his tongue around your clit

you feel a tightening in your stomach after a fuck minutes of his fingers fucking in and out of you, scissoring them to stretch you wider for him. he waits until he can feel you right on edge and he hears your moans pick up to pull his fingers out

you let out a whine at the lack of contact, handing right on edge of your ruined orgasm

“quite yer whinin’. you can cum around my cock instead.” he groans, pumping his cock a few times before lining it up with your weeping pussy

he places one hand on the underside of your thigh and pushes it up as he pushes in slowly. you let out a gasp and grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin. he doesn’t stop, only slows his pace

“nearly there…” he groans just before he bottoms out, his pubic bone pressed against your clit. he grinds his hips slowly to help you adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full

“do that again…” you whine out, arching your back for him. he grinds his hips a few more times, waiting until there’s no resistance from you before actually beginning to fuck his cock in and out of you

you slam your hand over your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock brush against this spongy spot inside of your cunt

he shifts his position, moving so he’s kneeling on the bed. he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you so your ass rests on his thighs

he wraps a hand around his cock, gliding the tip through your folds one time before slipping back inside you. he uses his grip on your hips as leverage to fuck into you faster than before

the room is filled with a mixture of your moans and his grunts along with the sound of his balls slapping your ass

your hands move to rest on his shoulders to keep you straight as he rams his cock into your cunt. that familiar tight feeling creeps up on you soon again. you tap his shoulder lightly

“si- simon… ‘m gonna- fuck-“ you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillows

“me too, little one. come on… cum around your husbands cock…” he grunts, leaning forward to put you in a mating press. his permission was all you needed to let go, your cunt pulsing around his cock erratically

he gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling his cock and out, desperately jerking it a few times before he paints his load all over your tummy. he rubs the tip against your clit to milk your orgasm, the final remnants of his cum dribbling out onto your pussy

he doesn’t enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm very long before he’s standing up and grabbing a cloth to clean you both up. he blows out the candles that light up your bedroom before wrapping you both up in blankets and furs

he lays on his back, tucking you under his arm so you can rest your head on his shoulder. you lay away from him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and pressing your face into the muscle

in tune with his usual character, he doesn’t say a word to you but this is progress, you think. a soft smile gracing your lips as you drift off into a peaceful slumber

könig with a partner with an irregular period for whatever reason and your face is scrunched up in worry while you complain to him whenever your tracking app says you’re late for more than a week and his leg starts bouncing under the table just silently hoping it never comes. kisses your forehead and tells you not to worry about it while his stomach churns with excitement and he’s already envisioning building a crib to put in the spare room. and you’re always confused why he looks so disappointed when you run up to him all smiley just to say you started bleeding while you were out. is quiet for the rest of the day mourning the loss like it was real.

tw dark content inct, infantilization, mental/physical abuse, weight mention, coercion, cutting, branding, nsfw but not really in detail, creampie mention, vv abusive

anon says..! naoya-nii who just keeps you like a pet.. not letting you dress urself , feeding you with a spoon , maybe even a bottle. He probably goes far as taking privileges like phones if you've been bad ,, ‘

naoya nii who never had to make your guys relationship dynamic clear. you were just such a good girl, and you would never go out of your way to deny or question your nii chan. well, after you tried to the first time. though sometimes he frustrated you, or confused you, it seemed that his light kisses to your tears and the way he soothes over your bruises made it all go away. ♡︎

first, you were never allowed to dress yourself. looking into your own closet earned you a slap on the wrists, and going as far as to trying on the clothes earned you a spanking. the first time you tried, it caused naoya nii to stay angry at you for days, offended that you thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough.

never ask him to wear somethin different. the last time you decided to ask to wear something less revealing, you were left lonely and cold in the room below his feet, bruises and cuts over the soft of your skin, with your cheeks red and burning.

naoya loved to dress you up in the prettiest, most expensive pieces. the pieces hugged around the curve of your body perfectly, flattering you in the best way. which isn't surprising, as he takes your measurements everyday in the morning when he changed you. his comments on your body always made you feel fuzzy, no matter what he said, 'need ta cut down on the sweets, ya gained some weight. i'll notice the servant.' 'yer tits are fatter, you sore?' the pieces were strangely small though, always showing an embarrassing amount of cleavage or ass that you didn’t really want to expose to naoya. however, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen right?

secondly, naoya-nii always feeds you. his job was handy, and allowed him to stay home with her precious sister, giving him all the time in the world to take care of you. naoya nii was always so patient and sweet, taking his time to bribe you when you were made to eat something you weren't so fond of. if you were upset and refusing the spoons of food, he would stick the entirety of his thumb into your mouth and gently place the food on the flat of your tongue! he never wanted you to be hungry!

however when you had mustered up the courage to ask to feed yourself, to your surprise he glanced up at you with a smile on his face and an enthusiastic 'yeah.' before the spoon had reached your opening, a subconcious slap comes down on your face and the spoon, knocking it over on the ground. naoya nii smashed the bowl of food he had held onto on the ground as well, breaking the bowl, leaving you there to cry on a stool whilst holding your cheek until you came running to him and yelling out apologies.

and last, your punishments <3 naoya nii was really the worst with punishments. he was the meanest, and never let you go regardless of the tears, and how his ears rung from your pained screams. over the years, he decided that the best ways to tame you were to hit you, and to fuck you.

naoya nii's abuse was never gentle. the paddles that came down on your back and down to your thighs always left you in shambles, leaving your mind empty with naoya nii in thought. the paddles caused cuts across your skin, eyeing down the beading blood that came from his hitting. and though it wasn't often, at times he would use an actual blade to teach you a lesson. whether it be carving degrading words onto your tits and thighs, or carving his name onto the fat of your ass and branding you!

and finally, naoya nii loved to have sex with you <3 though naoya never took his time to prep you that well, he always made sure it felt good. well, good enough. he loves to have you on your hands and knees, spreading your previously branded ass, listening to your sweet cries of his name. your slick dripped from your cunt, practically asking for nii nii to use you! :( he always made out with your slicked up cunt, which was the furthest that foreplay went to in terms of sex. after cumming in you, instead of watching it spill out and going to waste, he plugged you up with the prettiest of plugs, and tucked you into bed. however, you’re never allowed to cum. :( naoya nii just never allowed you to; after all, little girls don't do that. ♡︎

Desire of Ownership

>Yan! Pantalone x Fem! Reader

a/n: capitalist man strikes again. Jokes aside, his hairstyle is amazing

Word count: 1k (exactly 1k, it's an achievement)

Warnings: unhealthy mentality and controlling behaviour

/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*/～*

It's rare for you to be this worked up, but you haven't felt this much annoyance in a very long time. Maybe anger would be the better word. The words uttered to you by the head maid keep repeating in your head as you angrily stomp to Pantalone's office.

You swing the door open, uncaring of his short temper with your manners. Immediately, his head raises from his desk as the abacus beads shine menacingly. After closing the door, you pad over to his desk, arms crossed.

"I take it that you're cross?"

You scoff, "That is an understatement."

"Well then," he puts down his signature quill, "I was going to take a break anyway. Go on."

"What are you trying to do? I was stopped from stepping into the garden and was told that it's a direct order from you. I can't leave the building now? What are you going to do next? Chain me to the bed?"

"I might just do it if you forget your manners. Remember who you're talking to, my dear."

"Answer my question. What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing. Now, if you're done with your temper tantrum, go to the master bedroom. I'll be with you shortly."

"Pantalone," you whine out, moving towards him as his eyes follow your every move, "I want to go to the garden."

"You'll dirty your dress, and I rather like this one on you." He slyly runs his hands over your hips when you stand beside him. Dark eyes peer over the edge of his glasses, analysing your facial expression. The Regrator knows that you sweet talk him to get what you want, but he never does anything to stop it. What's wrong with tolerating it?

It'll make it all the more amusing when he crushes all that confidence.

"I can change, it's not a problem."

"Not needed," he shakes his head, "just wait for me in our room."

You ignore the feeling that settles in your stomach.

"Alright."

When you were walking towards the door, you could physically feel his eyes on every move you made.

-

Contrary to your assumptions, all Pantalone did was lay his head on your lap as he talked about finances and investments, visibly annoyed at so-called ‘side characters’ for increasing his workload. He even went to the trouble to call someone a babbling oxymoron. When you snickered at the name, he just turned his back to you, suddenly quiet.

After a few moments of deafening silence, he turns and looks you in the eye. Pantalone adjusts his glasses without breaking eye contact. It’s unnerving and you’ve unknowingly stiffened, muscles not daring to move.

“Oh,” his grin widens, “I thought you were enjoying yourself. Where did that laughter and smile go?”

Though his arms are crossed over his stomach, you know better than to test his reflexes. With a flattering motion of brushing his hair away from his face, you give him a little smile.

“Have I offended you somehow?”

“You look relaxed but judging from your muscles, you are as tense as a fresh recruit. Tell me, my little siren’s song, why are you so worked up?”

You nervously gulp. Despite him being on your lap, you’re still under his thumb. Right now, he’s just one question away from crushing you under it. Before you can say anything to defend yourself, a hand reaches and starts tracing your jawline. Goosebumps rise on your arms and neck at the unwavering eye contact, openly displaying your apprehension. He knows, doesn’t he?

He puts a finger on your lip to shush you when you try again.

“No need for explanations. I already know. If you think that you can do something that I had strictly prohibited right under my nose, let this be a warning to you.”

Head hung low, you move your gaze to your fiddling hands. A wheel of luck spins in your mind, waiting to stop to reveal which punishment he’d like to deliver this time.

“The maid you promised a transfer had come to me directly after your initial conversation with her. I’m aware that my employees aren’t too fond of me but using that to your advantage… you’re more cunning than you look.”

In one fluid motion, he’s sitting upright. A hand grabs your chin and raises your face, forcing eye contact.

“I read the letter you had posted. There’s nothing to be gained from telling your parents that you’re alive. I had your death falsely announced so that all those pests would leave us alone, yet you have the gall to throw everything into the water?”

“My parents… they deserve to know.”

“You’re lucky you hadn’t mentioned anything else. I would never spare you if you had.”

“Why, aren’t you just merciful.”

Pantalone laughs, eyes crinkling with amusement, “I suppose there is no limit to your impudence?” He scoots closer to you, hand travelling to cup your cheek before it moves to your nape. “The letter was never posted. Consider yourself lucky.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Why not? Being the spouse of the richest harbinger who just so happens to control the economy of Snezhnaya is something that not anyone can be. You, my dearest, are special."

Ah, how could you forget? Sometimes, being special means being at the wrong place at the right time and saying the right thing at the wrong time. A coincidence after coincidence, all just to become a series of encounters that awaken a darker desire in a man you refuse to tolerate.

"I'm not special. You just happen to fancy me."

"Fancy? Oh no no," he simpers, "I think love is the better word. Besides, had I not loved you, I would never have wed you. If I never wed you, you would never have been mine."

At the end of the day, there is still an unspoken truth that he spares you everytime.

'If you had never been mine, you would never have belonged to me.'

This is the money Marge. Reblog for good fortune