one thing i will NEVER understand is “character x oc” books.
ho. why do you expect me to read about some bitch i don’t care about, posted up with MY man?? IT MAKES NO SENSE
“you’re self-centred if you don’t let someone write their oc with your favourite character!” so what if i am then? i want the fic/book to be about ME and MY MAN
i’m talking specifically about the non-anime fics. like the irl ones. it’s oc this, oc that, oc oc oc, FUCKING OC. like no ho, i didn’t come to read this central cee fic, just to find out that “ALAINA” is the mc.
and the population of x reader fics is concerningly low, it scares the piss out of me
warning : hurt/comfort, cuddling, kissing, mention of death by childbirth, Szilágyi is readers last name, no use of Y/n
Summary : Engaged as children, married when they grew up. A love that blossomed in the mountains of Wallachia...but in the show of an heir, she finds her beloved prince full of grief in the catacombs.
info : I based it of my hc that Vlads mother died during his birth, his father died a while after. I wanted something hurtful and comforting, as always my dears have fun reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The earliest thing she could remember about his homeland was the carriage ride to the castle, a castle in the mountains, snow falling gently from the sky.
The muffled sound of horses' hooves trudging through the snow for hours, “When will we be there, Father?” she remembered the question, over and over again, not understanding why she had to carry a handkerchief in addition to her fur-lined dress.
The hours became an eternity until they finally crossed the bridge and arrived inside the castle courtyard, getting out of the carriage, the cold almost irrelevant when she spotted the other man and a boy.
“The niece of the Hungarian king, Princess Szilágyi” the girl was announced, her father stepping into the background as her small hands clasped the handkerchief engraved with her name more tightly.
The snow crunched under her shoes as the boy stepped toward her, “Welcome to Walachia, princess...here as a sign of our connection” Vlad recited the words monotonously, a nervousness evident as the children recited the words, the meaning of which they barely understood.
The two silk handkerchiefs were exchanged, dark red with gold thread for the letters, as their hands touched and their blue-blooded fathers already concluded agreements.
The only thing she still remembers was his small smile as the two children stood under the snowflakes and would meet again in the castle courtyard almost two decades later.
When the prince stood with his beloved in the church of his castle, the children had grown up, a couple who had started out in politics had fallen in love.
His hand was now larger than hers, his touch gentle, his gaze reflecting the love she felt for him as they spoke verses and promises they understood.
The priest, who had married them under God, felt Vlad's hand brush her cheek as he gave her the kiss that sealed the bond of their love.
“Eternity belongs to us, my princess...and the Wallachia kingdom given to you by me” he said, and the guests and vassals at the celebration applauded the couple, she raised her cup, the wine in it an eternal life, as she clinked it with Vlad's.
Even though they were seated in their chairs, all eyes on them, she felt Vlad's hand on hers, his touch always there, as if he wanted this day to never end.
As if he never wanted to lose her love. It was still that night, after the banquet with his closest confidants and her ladies-in-waiting, that she found herself in his chamber.
The large four-poster bed surrounded by silk curtains, the white blanket enveloping the bodies of the nobles as she gave herself to her beloved.
No restraint or shyness, since they were meant for each other, they now found each other, “A dream that springs from my heart” she whispered to him as she ran her finger along the freckles on his chest.
She wanted to kiss every single one, felt his fingers run over her body, a perception of her beauty that was not visible to them as children, “A dream in which we are now both forever” Vlad replied as the golden rings on their ring fingers spoke of marriage under the sight of god.
His smile was tinged with amusement as Vlad enveloped her in another kiss, a wedding night for the prince and his princess.
Driven by duty, it was nevertheless a celebration of deep love, it was a night that lasted until morning, when the princess awoke in the arms of her prince, her husband, the count.
She belonged to him and he was hers, the kingdom now ruled by both of them...the age of peace and love seemed to have begun.
The days turned into weeks, and a few months after the wedding, Vlad made her more and more familiar with her new home every day.
Horseback riding and hunting through the forest, warme wine as she gazed at the snow-covered landscape with him.
The making of dresses and jewelry, the procession through the villages to show the residents that the finally united couple was cheered.
Having new statues erected in the castle and even visiting the army of soldiers, in the hope that war would not come, that peace would last forever.
Vlad gave his beloved everything she desired, but her desire was only for him, his hand in hers, a kiss and nightly lovemaking were all she wanted from her prince.
Above every noble couple stood, alongside God's blessing, the knowledge of a family tree, that the noble blood of kings and counts had to be continued.
As the niece of the Hungarian king, she was expected to produce an heir and give her husband an heir, as Vlad was in danger of being the last of his line.
She knew this from the books and scrolls in his chamber, locked away, almost banished writings...until the evening when they were dining a few months into their marriage and she was overcome by nausea.
Since then, neither stimulating food and drink nor sufficient sleep seemed to bring her back to normal, “My wife! Get the physician!” Vlad yelled at his servants as he rushed to his wife, who was sitting slightly hunched over at the table.
Wanting to turn away from him, not wanting to show him the unpleasant sight, she nevertheless felt his caring hands on her, “My dearest, what is it? The physician will be here soon” his voice full of concern.
Vlad helped her up, “I-I don't know—it's been like this since the new moon” she tried to make sense of it as Vlad accompanied her to her chamber.
Only when the personal physician arrived did the prince have to stay outside, surrounded by his closest confidants, he paced back and forth like a wild animal.
He could only guess what was going on inside as she confided in the older man, whose examination was still completely foreign to her.
Until the moment when she saw something like a nod, “My princess, for the sake of your health, please tell me, have you had your period?” a question that made her pause, but her initial shame gave way as her fingers clung to her white undergarment.
Her gaze was now filled with knowledge as her breath seemed to stop, her hand now on her still flat stomach as she realized she was carrying Vlad's child.
The wooden door was pushed open when it took too long for her husband, when her concern seemed too great, “What is it?” the harsh, worried question came as his hand rested on hers.
His worried gaze met her nervous one, and he stroked her skin reassuringly, as he always did when he saw her like this.
The tension was broken by the physician, who announced, “Congratulations, my prince, your wife is blessed with child” and in an instant, applause and cheers erupted in the room as joy was evident in the hearts of the servants and subordinates.
Overcome with joy, she felt Vlad instantly remove his hand from her, as if the news had frightened him.
Unable to look at her, he left the room in a hurry, ignoring her calls as she felt the care of her ladies in waiting, her tears not wiped away by Vlad as she remained alone in her chamber with her confidants.
As if the Holy Mary had taken pity on her grief and the tears of the saints had conjured up the rain, it had been raining ever since, stormy winds surrounded the castle as she was now back in her dress, sitting in front of the lit fireplace, thinking about what she should do.
He loves me, so why is his heart so cold in the face of such proof of love? she thought as she looked at the golden ring on her finger.
They were united under God, their hearts meant for each other...or had he despised her since their first meeting? Was it all just a game and the dream over? It was a child, proof of love, and before the threatening tears could flow, she rose.
“Bring me candles,” she ordered, and moments later, she hurried through the castle with a candlestick and a glowing wick.
Her dress glided across the floor like a piece of fabric as she searched room after room, the wind whistling through the cracks in the stones.
Her search was almost unsuccessful; he was nowhere to be found in any of the rooms... until she remembered the one place he only visited her alone.
The crypt.
Across the castle courtyard, the wind made her dress swirl as the guards opened the heavy iron gate for her and she insisted on going down alone with a torch.
The cold was harsh, the winds did the rest as the cool underground structure gradually revealed itself to her.
The torch radiated a warmth that drove her forward, down the cold stairs until she arrived in the large, spacious room.
It dripped, the statue of his ancestor stone and harsh, the names no longer spoken, their lives lost many decades ago.
Yet in the darkness, lit only by their torches, she saw a shadow, “Vlad? My dearest, please don't close yourself off from such love.
It is yours if that is what angers you so” sje slowly approached him, not knowing what had affected him so much that he was sitting slumped in front of two statues.
The princess could see that he had changed, that fear and anger ran through him, that the quiet “Go away” was still audible when she paused, seeing the image of a prince who had given up, who did not want her.
His gaze spoke of the deepest grief of loss.
However, this was not the man she had married, “I will not go, Vlad. Why does this cause you such anguish?” she asked, ignoring his further orders for her to leave as she stood in front of him, holding the torches in her hands.
Looking down at him, her prince looked up, her incomprehension meeting his fear, “If all your love was just a lie, then tell me...but don't torture me with this uncertainty!” her desperate voice echoed through the crypt.
The flame of the torch made the shadows of the two dance as she knelt before him.
Slowly placing her hands on his, she made him look at her, hope slowly rising within her when he did not flinch away from her again.
Her touch gave him protection, “Before the crown was placed on my head, my father wore it. He died in the last war against the Turks” Vlad suddenly began to tell her, his voice tinged with bitterness as she listened to him.
Vlad was supposed to explain to her why he feared her child, why he had apparently fled to the crypt directly in front of his parents' place and avoided her.
The inscription still the least damaged of all, she recognized the name and felt guilty that she hadn't thought of it, “My mother died because of me...it was a long, painful birth. I don't want the same thing to happen to you” Vlad said, turning his gaze back to her.
It was not only the understanding of a princess in the face of the power and responsibility that she and, above all, Vlad bore. It was also the understanding of a wife towards her husband, which was why he avoided her.
It was not hatred or lies, it was nothing but fear and concern for her well-being in the face of a possible agonizing death.
Pulling her beloved into an embrace, giving Vlad the support he had never fully received, she felt him embrace her back, “Forgive me for doubting,” she murmured, his fear only guessable, the images of the bloody bed, a fate from which he could not protect her.
The redhead just shook his head and stroked her cheek, the tears she couldn't hold back, “I must apologize, I will never treat you so coldly again...” her prince began and took her hands and placed them on her still flat stomach.
Protected by her body, the love between the two would produce the next heir, “I'll stay by your side until it's over and I'll do everything I can to protect you” he finished, stroking her belly before giving her another kiss.
The noble couple kissed, lying in each other's arms, watched over by the stone eyes of his parents. The prince had already lost one family; he would not lose her too.
𝜗𝜚 toji’s a freak but you’re an even bigger one, and he’s just trying to keep up before you fuck him to death . . .
“baby, come on—”
toji groans, arm flung over his eyes as he hears you shuffle back onto the bed. the mattress sinks beneath your weight and he feels the drag of your nails along his abs, trailing toward the mess between his legs. everything’s soaked, your thighs, his cock, the damn sheets—and his body’s fucking spent. even his heartbeat is still struggling to slow down from the last round you just wrung out of him.
“we just finished,” he mutters, jaw tense, sweat glistening down his neck from how deep he was buried inside you minutes ago.
you hum as you straddle him, pussy bare and puffy and still dripping, hovering just above the tip of his cock. “twenty minutes is enough recovery,” you breathe out, hips twitching with impatience. “unless… you’re tapping out already?”
toji barks a laugh, shaking his head against the pillows. “you’re fucking insane.”
“you say that like it’s new,” you giggle, then lower yourself, chasing the heat of him as you rubbed your folds against his sensitive cockhead. “and yet you’re hard again already.”
“that’s just my body betraying me,” he says, but there’s a dangerous grin starting to tug at his lips.
“then punish it,” you whisper, leaning down to nip his earlobe. “or should i ride you like a good girl while you whimper under me again?”
he flips you before you can blink.
your back hits the mattress with a squeal and your thighs spread without being asked, welcoming his bulk as he shoves your legs up and folds you in half. your cunt flutters with anticipation as he lines himself up, and you don’t even try to hide the giddy smirk you wear.
“that’s more like it,” you purr, voice syrupy. “show me what that stroke game really looks like, old man.”
toji scoffs— then slaps your pussy hard enough to make you jolt.
“keep talkin’ like that and i’ll fuck the attitude outta you,” he growls.
you moan at the sting, licking your lips. “promise?”
the fourth round is rougher.
there’s nothing sweet about the way he pistons into you now— hips snapping with bruising precision, hands locked around your wrists and pinned above your head as he leans in, mouth dragging along your jaw with hot, panting breaths.
“still think it’s weak, huh?” he grunts, drilling into you harder, the headboard rattling with every movement. “talk now, brat.”
but your voice is wrecked, just moans and breathy little whimpers as your body takes in all, juices leaking out with each filthy slap of skin.
you try. “s-stroke still- mmf- k-kinda mid—”
he smacks your tit just to watch it bounce, then bites your neck.
“shut up.”
you cry out, legs wrapped tight around his waist, pulling him deeper. you love this game. love when he gets like this, mean, rough, and desperate to make you shut the fuck up with his cock. toji always pretends he’s in control, but deep down he’s just as addicted as you.
“you just needed this nasty fuckin’ dick, huh?” he sneers, hips crashing into you like a goddamn machine. “couldn’t even wait thirty fuckin’ minutes before getting needy again.”
your tongue lolls out, and he spits in your mouth without hesitation.
“swallow,” he commands.
obediently, you do.
by the fifth round, you’re shaking.
he’s got you on your knees now, head squished into the pillows, ass up high. your face is wet with tears and drool, and your cunt is throbbing— slick and raw and overstimulated as hell, but so fucking greedy for more.
toji grabs the base of your spine, pushing it down so your back arches even deeper.
“sloppy little cocksleeve,” he growls, landing a harsh slap to your ass. “drippin’ like a whore. and after five fuckin’ loads? still not satisfied?”
you wiggle your ass at him, breathless but smug. “only five? damn. weak performance for a guy with muscles like that.”
another slap cuts the air— making you scream.
“okay- okay! that one stung,” you giggle through the pain, but it dissolves into a moan when he grabs your ass and spreads you open, watching his cum drip from your swollen hole.
“you’re the freak,” he mutters, almost in disbelief. “i’m over here thinkin’ i’m some sex god, but you—” he slaps your pussy again just to hear the wet sound. “you’re insatiable.”
“then fuck me like you mean it, ‘ji,” you taunt, glancing over your shoulder with a tear-streaked smirk.
he grits through his teeth, losing all self restraint, and drives his cock back into you, hard enough to knock the wind out of your lungs.
round six is feral.
you’re spread out on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders as he fucks you full with one hand squeezing your throat. the other rubs brutal circles on your clit, fingers sticky from your release.
“gonna make you squirt all over my cock again,” he pants. “gonna ruin this fuckin’ mattress, huh?”
“d-do it, then,” you choke out, squirming. “make me soak this bitch. bet you can’t.”
he growls, slaps your clit, and leans in close.
“keep testing me.”
you scream when you squirt all over him thirty seconds later.
you cum again in round seven. and eight. and nine.
toji cums deep everytime— groaning into your neck, snarling into your mouth, biting down on your shoulder as he empties his balls inside you over and over. the room smells like nothing but sex. your body is a shaking mess. your poor pussy is stretched raw, fluttering around his cock, fucked so full of cum it’s leaking out in slow, creamy drips.
you should be done.
he thinks you’ve finally called it quits, your body’s gone limp, your mouth slack, but then he feels the slow grind of your hips again.
“…baby.”
“hm?”
“no fucking way,” he groans, voice hoarse.
you blink up at him with hazy eyes, but that familiar glint is still there. that insatiable hunger. your fingers drift to your clit and rub a slow circle, and toji can’t help but stare, hypnotized even as his cock twitches, still buried inside you.
“you’re possessed,” he murmurs.
you smile, breath hitching as you lazily stroke yourself. “don’t tell me you’re already tapping out after just nine rounds.”
toji sighs, but his hips are already rolling again. already fucking you deeper.
“fucking hell,” he growls, dragging your leg up to your chest, pounding into your soaked cunt with renewed vigor. “this pussy’s gonna kill me.”
The feeling of his hot breath over my chest as he whispers of how he loves me and my body.
I didn't know what the feeling of man felt like until I felt him, the feeling of being able to be fucked and made love to at the same time.
I couldn't bear to be apart from him in any way.
It was like I was addicted to him, he was ecstasy, the feeling of alcohol that burned down your throat, you hated the taste but loved the way it made you feel.
—★: imagina uma AU com esses atores nesses universos? Um trio de assassinos gostosos atrás de mim querendo botar minhas entranhas pra fora AAAAAAA 🫦 era meu sonho (só na ficção mesmo pls
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