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#and i simply continue to make her even more insane
strywoven · 1 year
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this is your constant reminder that verona does NOT favor men much at all. in fact , if she finds them attractive - in any capacity - her one thought likely will be : i wonder if i can hunt him for sport ? i wonder if he will look nice skinned and hanging on the mantle ? no , that's not a joke.
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joelsmochi · 4 months
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honey ♡ joel miller
rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)
“Which eyeshadow should I use?”
You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”
Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.
“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.
“Uh… Yeah?”
“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”
“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.
Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”
“My dad is a dork.”
“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”
Sarah only rolled her eyes.
“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”
Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.
You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.
His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—
“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“
“Oh, really?”
You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”
“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.
“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.
She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”
You groaned softly. “Bummer.”
“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”
“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.
You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”
“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”
You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.
You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.
“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.
He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.
“Bees?”
“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”
Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”
He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”
You only shook your head.
“They’re calm if you are.”
I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.
“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”
He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.
You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.
“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.
He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”
“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”
Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”
“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.
You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.
“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“
“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.
“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”
“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”
“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”
You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.
“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”
“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”
Idiot.
“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”
He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”
You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“
“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.
“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.
“Mnh-mnh.”
“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”
“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.
Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”
His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.
“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”
“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.
He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.
“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”
He smirked at your amused expression.
“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”
He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”
Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.
“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”
It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.
Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.
WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.
You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.
Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.
“Tastes good.”
“Just good?”
“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.
He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.
“Sarah know you’re out here?”
After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”
“So we’re all alone,” he finished.
“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”
He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.
Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.
“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.
Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”
“S’normal,” he muttered.
He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.
You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.
“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”
You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.
He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.
“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”
“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.
“Hmm. Where at?”
Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”
Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.
“I get it?” His voice strained.
You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”
Your clavicle.
More honey. More licking.
“How ‘bout now?”
You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”
Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.
“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.
His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.
“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”
Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.
He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.
Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.
Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.
Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.
Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.
He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.
His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.
Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.
He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.
“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”
Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.
“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”
“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.
His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.
“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”
Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.
“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”
Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.
Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.
“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”
You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.
“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”
He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.
Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.
“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.
He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”
You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.
“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”
“I’m cu—oh!”
“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”
He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.
Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.
“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“
He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.
Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.
“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.
“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”
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starryhyuck · 11 days
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pairing: challengers!johnjae x afab!reader
words: 3.5k+
summary: johnny suh and jeong jaehyun are determined to prove their worth to you in this year’s tennis competition. you all end up receiving more than you expected.
genre: smut
warnings: there is some mlm johnjae so please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that, double penetration, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, talks of creampies, three way make out
thank you for 9.5k followers!!
“Your serve is fucking insane.”
You hum noncommittally, fingers tightening around your bottle to spray more water into your mouth. You wipe the sweat from your brow as Donghyuck continues to eye you with amazement.
“You do know that ball boys don’t usually get to talk to the players, right?” You comment, a little perturbed by how easy it is for the younger man to approach you.
His eyes continue to sparkle despite your demeaning remark. Unbeknownst to you, Donghyuck signed up to become the tennis team’s lackey just to be able to see you in action.
You were the crown jewel of the university’s tennis program, having been recruited from the early stages of your high school career. Much speculation occurred at your decision to go to college first instead of turning to a professional career. You insisted to your parents that your education was still important despite your only shining skill being the ability to hit a ball with a racket. You slaved away most of your hours on this court, practicing to become the next best tennis player South Korea has ever seen.
“I’m looking forward to your match on Saturday,” Donghyuck says, eagerly handing you another tennis ball when you outstretch your palm to him.
Your eyebrow quirks up at the mention. The Korea Open kicked off this weekend and the press was convinced you would gain another title under your belt. You normally don’t enjoy goading them on, but you have a good feeling about the tournament this year.
“Scatter, pea brain,” Suyeon hisses when she approaches you two, flicking Donghyuck’s ear. The boy grumbles before returning to his place near the wall. Once he’s out of earshot, Suyeon turns her attention back to you. She’s dressed in one of her tightest skirts, indicating she has plans set in motion for tonight. “Are you ready to go yet?”
You shake your head at her inquiry. “I’m not done. Go ahead without me.”
She whines pitifully, clutching your arm tightly. “I can’t! You know I get much more attention when I walk in with you.”
You sigh. Suyeon has been chattering nonstop to you about all of the players who have flown in for the games this week. Tonight was the first party hosted by your university to welcome them, and your roommate took that as a green light to snag one of the tennis players for herself.
“I still need to practice my backhand-“
“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Because I’ll do it.”
To prevent Suyeon from embarrassing herself even further, you hoist her arm and tug her away. She rejoices when you zip up your racket and bid your goodbyes to the remaining staff on the court. You do your best to ignore Donghyuck’s cheerful holler after you.
When you ask Suyeon if you can simply wear your practice gear, she throws you a disgusted look and quickly tugs you back to your shared dorm to change. You allow her to play dress up as she wants, wrapping your figure into a body hugging dress from the back of your closet. As soon as she deems you decent enough for the party, she hauls you over to the university’s lounge, where tonight’s events will be taking place.
Your first thought when you enter the party is that you would much rather be on the court. Just as Suyeon predicted, every eye turns to you when you step inside.
Whispers of tennis prodigy echo around the room and you try your best not to roll your eyes. Suyeon, on the other hand, basks in your popularity and bats her eyes towards the players that begin to approach the both of you. You decide to dodge the awkward conversation, excusing yourself to grab a refreshment.
It’s in the midst of downing a lemonade when you feel a presence linger behind you.
You turn to see none other than Johnny Suh and Jeong Jaehyun, the winners of last year’s doubles title. You heard that Jaehyun had enrolled into the same university as you while Johnny opted to go professional.
Despite the distance, the two seem closer than ever. And tonight, they stare at you like you’re their last meal.
“Hi,” you greet with an eyebrow raised.
Johnny speaks first, saying your name with a devilish grin. “We were wondering if we would see you here.”
He starts to introduce himself and Jaehyun, but you hold out a hand to stop him.
“I know who you are. I watched you two crush it at last year’s match,” you say, humming while you refill your glass. Jaehyun’s eyebrow ticks up at the revelation while Johnny’s smirk widens. “I’m guessing you’re both back to defend your title?”
“That, and to prove we’re just as good in the singles,” Johnny answers. You swallow a laugh at his unwavering confidence.
“I see you practice on the court sometimes,” Jaehyun says, diverting the topic of conversation back to you. “You’re incredible — I’ve never seen a backhand like yours.”
You smile at him, thanking him for the compliment. Jaehyun was definitely the more timid one of the pair, while you could tell Johnny led most of their conversations.
You feel like you’re in the lion’s den, with Johnny ready to pounce and Jaehyun waiting for permission to do the same.
Luckily, Suyeon rushes over and becomes your unknowing savior. Her hand wraps around your upper arm and she whines pitifully in your ear.
“SOS! SOS!”
“What is it?” You ask, eyes still remaining on the two men in front of you. Johnny’s fingers are slowly tightening around his glass and you wonder if he has the strength to break it. Jaehyun holds his a little more delicately, but you can see him clenching his fist behind his back.
You imagine one of them tangling their hands through your hair while the other wraps his around your neck.
“I don’t know anything about tennis,” Suyeon sighs, bringing you out from your lewd fantasy. “Come and help me, please?”
You smile at the two players, setting your glass down on a nearby table.
“Apologies, boys. Duty calls.”
You feel the weight of their stare follow you as you walk over to help Suyeon battle tennis talk.
You ponder if they’re desperate enough to stay behind for you.
You receive your answer later in the night.
As soon as Suyeon is all set for a lovely evening with a pretty player named Yuju, you start to make your way to the exit. You’ve had enough social interaction for one event, but two figures lingering by the door makes you second guess that decision.
Jaehyun adjusts his posture when he catches sight of you while Johnny leans casually against the wall, trying to make it seem as if he’s not affected by your appearance.
“You’re still here,” you hum, folding your arms across your chest. Both pairs of eyes quickly dart down to the swell of your breasts before moving upwards, acting like they weren’t just checking you out.
“Party’s too fun,” Johnny bites, sarcasm flooding his tone.
“I’m sure,” you chuckle dryly.
“Is your friend all good to go?” Jaehyun asks, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he genuinely wants to know the answer.
You smile at him. “Yes, I was able to rescue her from the awful tennis small talk.”
Johnny kicks off from his position against the wall, approaching you with determination. Jaehyun eyes him carefully, and you realize from their body language that they have done this dance before. You think about how many other girls have fallen into their open trap.
“Well, maybe tennis talk isn’t all that bad. Especially in a quieter setting.”
Johnny reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his spare key set to one of the dorms the university is housing them in. He dangles them in front of your face, and you drink in his smug expression and Jaehyun’s anxious anticipation at your answer.
You tilt your head teasingly. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
Johnny shrugs. “Nothing wrong with a few tennis players strategizing before the match, right?”
Against your better judgment, you follow the two back to their dorm. You ignore the way Johnny’s fingers brush against the back of your thigh as he walks behind you and how Jaehyun’s hand continuously knocks into yours, pinky fingers brushing by each other. They clearly have set motives for the night and you would be lying if you said your mouth isn’t foaming at the idea of taking them both at once.
Jaehyun unlocks the door for you both, and Johnny keeps a steady hand on your lower back as he guides you in. As you expected, the university set them up in a double room, with separate twin beds pressed against each wall.
Before you can comment on the size of the room, a hand snakes around your middle, pulling you against Johnny’s backside. His fingers brush your hair to the side, pressing kisses against your exposed neck. Jaehyun has fallen to his knees in front of you, pushing up the fabric of your dress so he can catch a glimpse of your panties.
You make no moves to stop either of them, hands intertwining with Johnny’s as he continues his assault on your throat. You faintly register that you’ll have to cover up his marks before your match tomorrow, but Jaehyun nipping you at your thighs brings you out of your thoughts.
“So you’ve done this before?” You confirm while Johnny’s hands harshly squeeze your hips.
“Maybe,” Johnny hums teasingly, drawing out the last syllable. “But no one as pretty as you.”
You scoff and roll your eyes at his cheesy retort. You look down to see Jaehyun staring up at you, eyes filled with unbridled lust. You stroke his cheek gently and giggle.
“Are you waiting for permission?”
Johnny chuckles from behind you. “He’s waiting for you to sit on his face, sweet girl.”
Your eyebrow quirks up in surprise. Multiple exclamation marks pop up in your head but you’re not one to hesitate if someone is willingly offering to provide you an orgasm, so you bunch up your dress to your waist and hover over Jaehyun’s mouth. Johnny helps you in the process, pulling your underwear to the side and guiding your hips until Jaehyun’s tongue brushes against your folds. You gasp at the feeling and Jaehyun wastes no time diving into you, eagerly eating your cunt like his life depends on it.
Johnny’s hands have wandered to the straps of your dress, pulling it down and fondling your breasts. His fingers roll over your nipples, hardened and peaked from the intense foreplay.
He whispers in your ear, playing the devil on your shoulder. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Jae loves it when it’s sloppy like this, loves to feel his mouth being used.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, catching the implication in his tone that Johnny has been in your spot before. “He likes it better when you tug on his hair like this,” Johnny says as he guides your hand to Jaehyun’s head, allowing you to pull the strands. “It lets him know he’s doing a good job.”
Jaehyun’s lips swallow every drop of essence your pussy grants him. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying the experience, hands grabbing your ass and pulling you deeper onto him.
It’s not long before you’re completely riding Jaehyun’s face, desperately pushing yourself back and forth on his mouth in pursuit of your orgasm. You whimper when his tongue flicks over your clit, teasing the nub until you’re begging for him to make you cum.
“Please, please,” you whine, fingers tugging on his hair harshly. “Wanna cum, Jae, please.”
“Let the princess get what she wants,” Johnny says to Jaehyun. “Can’t have the tennis prodigy all wound up before her big match.”
Jaehyun follows Johnny’s orders, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking until your orgasm hits you. You cry and ride out your high until your thighs start shaking. Johnny’s arms hoist you up and before you know it, he’s throwing you onto one of the beds in your post-orgasm haze. You hear the clinking of belts and a hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently.
“Sit up, pretty girl. Want to see my cock slide down your throat,” Jaehyun whispers to you. His mouth is still covered in the remnants of your orgasm, and he casually licks his lips to capture some of the taste.
Johnny slides in to your left as you sit up, feet dangling over the side of the twin bed. You pull your dress off, flinging it across the room. With Jaehyun on your right, you give him your attention first. Your hand trails down his stomach until you’re gently grasping his cock, pulling him from the confines of his briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, long and pink with pre-cum gushing from the tip. You can’t believe he was this hard the entire time he ate you out.
Your head turns to Johnny, who is smirking down at you. His fingers are already wrapped around his base, pumping slowly while he watches you. He’s thicker than Jaehyun but equally as aroused. You replace his hand with yours, mimicking his previous motions.
You find a rhythm between the two, alternating between sucking one cock and stroking the other, and switching before one of them can complain about the lack of attention. Johnny’s hand possessively grips your hair while Jaehyun keeps a solid pinch at the nape of your neck, keeping you steady.
“What a nice picture this would make,” Johnny laughs sinisterly, observing as you lick him from his base to his tip. “Maybe we should commemorate this moment, Jae. They could put it up in the Hall of Fame.”
“What? Right over a plaque that says best cocksucker?” Jaehyun chuckles. “Add best pussy too while you’re at it. Never tasted a cunt so sweet.”
You ignore their degrading comments, too enraptured in taking their cocks down your throat as best as you can. Just the thought of having them both inside you is enough to make you clench your thighs, chasing friction as slick drips from your cunt.
“Hm, wonder what the little princess is thinking about,” Johnny murmurs. “Maybe what it would be like to take two cocks at once?”
You whimper around Jaehyun’s length, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Jaehyun clicks his tongue, giving two experimental thrusts that has you gagging.
“Selfish of her,” Jaehyun comments to Johnny. “Wants all the attention for herself, on and off the court.”
“Let’s not make her wait any longer then.”
You cough a little when Jaehyun pulls himself out of your mouth. Johnny tugs on your hair harshly until you’re facing him. He leans down to press his lips to yours, tongues fighting for dominance as he pushes you back down on the bed. You clutch the back of his neck, hungrily kissing him until you’re gasping for breath.
They adjust your body so Jaehyun lies underneath you, cock prodding at your waiting hole. Johnny hovers above you, spitting at your pussy and pushing two fingers into your waiting heat.
You mewl at the intrusion and Johnny grins. “Just as I predicted, Jae, still wet and ready for us.”
When he pulls his digits out, you release a croaky laugh.
“So which one of you plans on taking home the singles trophy tomorrow?”
You feel them eye each other at your question, both lining themselves up to sink into you.
“The best man will win,” Jaehyun mumbles in your ear, not sounding so confident in his answer.
You smile, sensing an open opportunity to encourage some harmless fun. You can already picture the two of them tomorrow — sweaty and desperate to prove themselves as the best. The thought of them being so competitive for the title causes more slick to gush from your pussy.
“How about this then — tonight, you both have to pull out. But tomorrow, whoever wins the title gets to cum deep inside me,” you drawl, watching as Johnny’s eyes cloud over and feeling Jaehyun’s hands tighten around your waist. “And I’ll wear your cum in my panties all day to show everyone who I belong to.”
The idea of them staking a claim on you drives them into a frenzy. You whine when they both push into your cunt, fighting for the tight space between their ridiculously large cocks. You collapse onto Jaehyun’s front, head falling against his shoulder.
“Slut,” Johnny growls at you. “That’s how it’s going to be, hm? Pretty princess wants cum dripping down her legs as she practices her backhand?”
Jaehyun groans in your ear. “Fuck, I want to see that so badly.”
Your mind is drawing a blank, heat filling your stomach as the both of them continue to press into you.
Jaehyun chuckles. “Maybe we didn’t think this through, John. Looks like her pussy can’t even fit the both of us.”
“Maybe you’re right, Jae.”
When they start to pull out, your head whips up with an unmatched fury.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“There she is,” Johnny smirks. “Princess wants us to break her pretty pussy, is that it?”
Your competitive nature flares up. “Trust me, I can take it.”
Johnny and Jaehyun exchange another round of looks and eyebrow raises. You feel utterly unprepared when Jaehyun plants his feet on the bed and Johnny situates his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs. They begin a furious pace, with Jaehyun roughly thrusting upwards and Johnny railing you until your head hits the wall.
You nearly scream, convinced that the neighboring dorms are going to file noise complaints by the end of the night.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss at the feeling of two cocks driving into you.
You feel completely full as they stretch you out. Johnny’s hand comes down to your clit to try and ease some of the pain. You crumble when the pain ebbs into waves of pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“There you go,” Jaehyun coos in your ear. “Just let us take care of you, baby.”
Two fingers slide into your mouth and you clutch Jaehyun’s wrist, gagging on his digits.
“Can’t wait to cum inside this tight cunt tomorrow,” Johnny grunts.
You hear Jaehyun scoff and give another harsh thrust, almost knocking you against the wall again. You blubber on his fingers but he doesn’t seem to mind the drool slipping down his wrist.
“What makes you think you’ll be the sure winner?” Jaehyun asks between throaty groans.
Johnny chuckles at the question. “Come on, Jae. You can’t be serious.”
“And if I was?”
Your orgasm hits you without warning and you cry, back arching and thighs shaking from the intense pleasure. You have to blink a few times before regaining your senses, and you’re surprised by what you find when you can finally see clearly.
Johnny’s lips are locked with Jaehyun’s, their tongues fighting for dominance in a messy kiss. They’re both still pounding into you albeit at a slower pace, suddenly enraptured by one another as Johnny’s hand moves from your clit to tangle into Jaehyun’s hair. The latter moans underneath you, removing his fingers from your mouth to lazily grab a handful of your breast as you remain sandwiched between them.
You didn’t think it was possible, but you grow more aroused at the sight. Filthy squelching sounds fill the room and your body starts to overheat from the constant stimulation.
Johnny’s eyes drift over to lock with yours, and he smirks into Jaehyun’s mouth at the sight of you. He pulls away from Jaehyun, who eagerly chases after him. Johnny cups your cheek and attaches his lips to yours, tugging Jaehyun along in the process. The three of you engage in one of the sloppiest make out sessions you’ve ever experienced, combined with a mixture of tongues and breathy gasps.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jaehyun suddenly mumbles.
Johnny nods. “Me too. Let’s paint her body, shall we?”
You whine when they pull out of you, furiously stroking their cocks until they find release. You’re mesmerized at the sight of them climaxing, grunting harshly and coloring your stomach with ropes and ropes of their cum.
You collapse into a pile of bones and you feel them start to lick your neck, earnestly tasting the sweat dripping down from your face. You giggle at their unique form of aftercare.
“It seems like-“ you hiss when Johnny squeezes your breast again before continuing. “It seems like you two used up all of your energy. Do you think either one of you still has a chance tomorrow?”
Jaehyun laughs. “Don’t worry about us, baby.”
“Because we’re planning on cumming inside of this sweet cunt for the whole world to see, whether you like it or not,” Johnny finishes.
You swallow at their predatory gazes, shock traveling up your spine when you realize their cocks are already half-hard again.
You’re in big trouble.
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months
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The Truth Behind It All
Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.
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The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 
She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.
Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.
The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 
“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 
She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.
“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.
“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.
“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”
“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”
He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 
“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”
“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”
“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”
“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”
“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.
“What, love?”
“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 
Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.
A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.
Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.
“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.
“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.
“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”
“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”
“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”
“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”
“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.
Oh how unfair it all was.
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aklaustaleteller · 1 month
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Might Fancy You
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Y/n went from fearing Klaus, to studying in his studio, to then throwing Shakespeare insults at him while chasing after him to put paint on him; he'd started it. But what happens when she ignores his one warning and he has her cornered in a flash?
Warnings - few mentions of blood and some kissing. Word Count - 1.8k
I told you I'll have part two out in two days and here it is! You can read part one here, and well, I hope you enjoy both the parts!
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“And you are?” Elijah asked the girl standing in the doorway of the mansion, clutching onto so many things that he worried all of it was going to fall out of her trembling hands any time now. 
“Um, I’m here to meet Klaus?” She said, an awkward smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “He’s helping me with an art project,” she continued when the original didn’t say anything.
But he did raise an eyebrow at that, making her even more nervous and bunch up her shoulders in a defensive shrug. “You know what? I’ll just leave,” her voice made a few tumbles as she turned around and began walking out the door she’d just come in. Her guard was high up because she had no reason to believe that this vampire wasn’t going to drain her of blood then and there for stepping onto his property without any permission. 
“Y/n!” She heard a voice call out and she flinched, her heart trying to make up for the missed beat and speeding up as a result. 
“Y- yes?” She stuttered, slowly turning to face him, fearing what’s to come. How stupid had she been to ask a goddamn original to help her out with some- some school work! 
“What did you say to her, Elijah?” Klaus glared at his brother on seeing his new friend so shaken up.
Elijah only turned towards him in a slight confused daze. “I simply asked her who she was,” he said, walking away from the scene to probably his reading chair, leaving as nonchalantly as he could’ve killed her. 
A smile creeped up on Klaus’ mouth, a chuckle rumbling inside his chest at how easily she’d been frightened. It was almost bordering on endearing. 
“C’mon love, follow me,” he urged her as he walked up the stairs, coming to halt when he didn’t hear her move. “Y/n?” he called her, looking back at her from midway up the stairs. and coming to a realisation that she might genuinely be scared of him. 
“I think I’ll go,” she said, looking very close to passing out. “Forget I asked you for anything.” She didn’t even look him in the eyes and turned back around to leave and get away from this mansion as fast as she could.
But of course, Klaus stood in front of her just as she turned, almost sending her heart flying out of her mouth. It was strange, to witness this completely new side of the girl who ferociously bit right back at him the most creative insults he’d ever heard in his long life.
“Why are you so suddenly terrified of me?” Klaus asked, his face creasing in confusion as his eyes showed her specks of hurt that could very well just be the mossy-green of his eyes deceiving her. “What happened?”
“I- I don’t know maybe the sense that you’re an original who could rip me to shreds or drain me of all my blood right here,” she stopped herself like she’d done something insanely stupid and – ”finally knocked at my brain,” she trailed off very softly, almost as if cautious of making him angry.
“Y/n- love, you know I’d never do that,” he mumbled, cupping her face and almost flinching when she went stiff. “I mean I could do that but I never would!” he reframed his sentence when she narrowed her eyes, for some reason, desperate that she understood him.  
“What do I have to believe you wouldn’t?” 
“Because I do not have any reason to,” Klaus reassured her, not saying that maybe because he fancied her a little, just because this wasn’t the ideal moment for a confession like that. 
Y/n didn’t say anything at that. Standing still and looking into his eyes, searching his face for any signs of underlying betrayal but she didn’t find any – not that she expected to, he is a thousand years old after all, surely he’d know how to disguise his motives.
And yet, when Klaus grasped her arm and led her up the stairs, she let him. 
“I see you brought all of your stuff,” Klaus chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood as he took a million things out of her hold, placing it all on the rug and smiling when he saw her setting up the canvas for him. He could get used to this very easily. 
“I did, it’s my work you are doing after all,” she said softly, slowly coming out of her shell. “I didn’t want you to waste your supplies on it,” she continued. 
“I wouldn’t say this is wasting anything,” Klaus proposed, thinking that maybe this would be the topic for their discussion today, slight banter even? 
“I wouldn’t either,” she agreed with him, catching him a little off guard. “But the school people will tear this apart and throw it in the trash before I could ever get to it.”
Klaus shook his head at that, preparing the paints and the brushes. “And why would you want to get to it?”
Y/n had managed to make herself comfortable on the floor a couple feet away from him, her papers already scattered on the floor of his studio,  and Klaus only hoped that they could do this more often after this day.
“Well, I wouldn’t want it go to waste… you see? Maybe hang it somewhere in my house when it’s purpose in school is served,” she shrugged nonchalantly, taking the cap off of a pen by her mouth and Klaus wanted nothing more than to rush over to her and cup her face to kiss her. 
Which reminded him that she was quite fastly transitioning back to her usual self around him. He smiled at that, the scary thrill in his heart that had come at the thought of her fearing him slowly fading away. 
Neither of them said anything after that, getting to their individual works in silence. The soft sounds of Klaus’ brush against the canvas, mixing colours on his palette and rinsing the brush rid of the previous colours filled the room along with sounds of Y/n flipping her book, turning the pages in notebooks and changing pens. 
The sun peeked in through the windows, the lighting constantly changing as the clouds drifted calmly through the sky. 
While painting, Klaus began to worry about this girl who was so engrossed in her homework that she hadn’t moved once. He worried that she’d gotten so serious and quaint that she might just tumble into sadness. All that to say, he missed her laugh a little as well.
He tuned to just look at her while he was sure that she was unaware. Her hair was tied up, circular glasses that had a coppery rim slipping lower and lower on the bridge of her nose until she had to fix them. She looked cute, Klaus caught himself thinking.
Her lips were resting in a faint pout as she focused, her fingers picking at them while she jottled down something in her notebook with her free hand. His hand ached to trace its fingers over the highs and the lows of her face. The little frown that had formed inbetween her eyebrows made her look all the more cute and Klaus found himself walking over to her, his feet functioning on a mind of their own. 
He bent down to come face-to-face with her as she was sitting, and he almost cooed at the fact that she still hadn't quite registered the close proximity at which he was in front of her. Raising up his hand, he booped her nose – getting the very reaction he was hoping for.
She looked up at that, slightly startled, only to catch Klaus’ eyes widening a little themselves. 
“Why did you do that?”
“Uh, because there was something…” he panicked, his eyes frozen on the spot he had gotten yellow paint on her nose. “I removed it though, don’t you fret,” he smiled, brushing over his pants as he began to stand up straight. 
But she passed him a glare then, clutching the bottom of his henley to stop him. “Klaus,” she began. “Did you remove something or put something there?”
He shrugged at that, focusing back on the canvas and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her getting up. 
“Klaus.” She said his name with an underlying warning. She brushed her own finger over the very spot he had touched, and saw the paint.
“Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once a while, but you really abuse the privilege,” she was walking closer to him and Klaus knew exactly what was about to commence, making him cover his head with his arms when she pressed her hand against the paint on the palette. 
He howled with laughter when she dragged her hands across his neck, twisting and turning to get away from her. Still laughing at the insult she threw at him because it was a bloody good one, Klaus swiped his finger across her collarbone, earning a whine from her as she began chasing him around the studio. 
Stopping to catch her breath, she began shouting at him – “thou crusty batch of nature!” But laughter slipped past both of their mouths before they could even contemplate what she’d just said. 
“No way you just threw a Shakespearree insult at me,” Klaus laughed, standing on the complete other side of the room, opposite to her.
He feigned a growl when she began walking towards him, red paint almost drying on her palms. “Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Klaus whispered loud enough for her to hear. 
And she ignored his warning, just like he was hoping she would. Watching her creep up closer and closer to him, Klaus felt a smirk pull up a corner of his lips. 
In a flash, Klaus had her pinned against a wall, her wrists held above her head in his hands. His face tilted to the side lightly, his eyes focused on her mouth as he felt her gaze on him heating up her skin. She tipped her chin forward, her lips not quite meeting his’, making him close the gap between them and connect their lips. 
Lips moving in a perfect sync, Klaus brought one of his hands down to snake it around her waist, her mouth opening with a gasp at the sensation and giving him the chance to kiss her further. The back of her head met with the wall behind her as they kissed with a passion that felt too heated. 
Detaching their mouths, both of them took in heaves of breath, Klaus pecking her lips once more before releasing her wrists. She was looking into his eyes, searching them for something and Klaus couldn’t help but smile at her, her lips very lightly swollen, looking like they’d just been kissed. 
“Think I might fancy you a tad,” he grinned, laughing out loud when she grabbed his face to kiss him again, making him lose his balance only for a second before he was cupping her face ever so gently.
"Never realised I wanted to hear you say it so much,” she let slip a breathy chuckle, looking into his eyes before kissing his lips once more. Lord, it was addictive – he was addictive. 
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iambilliejeanok · 3 months
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🩷Lust and Tradition🩷
Summary: Gojo Satoru finds himself obsessing over his arranged wife’s innocence. He ends up finding himself doing things to her that even frightens him at times. Y/n who never even knew what sex was until she married Satoru, must now navigate how she should manage her own uncontrollable lust to please her husband, who simply has no mercy when it comes to having her obey him and his strange desires. How can she continue to behave like a lady when he makes her feel like a whore at times and just how long can Satoru play this out until he finally manages to break her.
Warnings: 18+, no minors please, very explicit, shameless smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, oral sex, tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, mentions of vaginal and anal penetration, dacryphillia, spanking, power play, arranged marriage, nipple play, kinky, edging, smut from the beginning to the end.
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Gojo Satoru is a man who admires tradition and order. He’s excited to have a wife now, even though you were chosen for him, he still managed to fall for you rather quickly, especially because he finds himself obsessing over your innocence. Your family had groomed you into being a lady perfect for just him. Your favorite color, food, hobbies and abilities were all manipulated to whatever it was that he preferred, all in hopes that the Gojo clan would choose you of all the beautiful women who were also hopeful to marry him. The day finally came and your family praised you more than you ever heard them in front of his elders and Satoru loved everything they had to say about you, but for some reason or another, it was only one piece of information that really stuck with him. You’re a virgin. You’ve never even kissed a boy and the thought of it drove him absolutely crazy. A year into your marriage and you’re fully aware of just how insane he is. He always strays away from penetrating your vagina because he wants to hold on that for as long as possible. If he’s going to take away your innocence and ruin your tight little holes, you’re going to have to beg him for it and if you’re lucky, and he feels convinced, he might give in and grace you with the pleasure of his thick girth tearing you up while you claw cry and scream for him, but he won’t make it easy for you. Only a woman who can entertain his sick and twisted kink for however long he desired can have the pleasure of having his dick anywhere inside of them and since you are his wife, this is going to have to be your fate. Unfortunately for you, the day hasn’t come yet and I say unfortunately because savoring your innocence doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not getting any sexual pleasure. Trust me, he will certainly ensure that you’re getting a lot, even more than what you want sometimes, but once everything is over and done with and you’re face is burried against his warm chest, stifling your moans while trying to recover from the pleasure he let on you, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit unsatisfied. Your vagina is still aching for him, and you can feel it burning so hot as you fantasize of finally having his warm, thick cock massage those aches away. You don’t care about just how painful it might be, you’re too horny to worry about any pain and would happily take on whatever pain you might feel in the name of just feeling him inside your most intimate part.
You squirm against him after those sessions of “innocent pleasure”, as he calls it, that he graces you with when he’s in a good mood and he always notices your uncontrollable lust. He will pretend he doesn’t mind it, but you know he does and you’ll pay for it soon, because despite he’s own pervertedness, he is a traditional man in every sense of the word and will not hesitate to give his wife a decent spanking for her indecency and impure thoughts. The mornings will go on as usual and you’ll start them by waking up before him and preparing his clothing for the day and some breakfast too, unless he decides to start off your mornings by indulging himself with your body. He confuses you sometimes, because he strongly forbids you from entertaining any “filthy” thoughts of him touching you and after a year of being his wife, you still struggle to understand why you’re not allowed to have him how you want to. Afterall, he’s your husband and you are his wife, but according to tradition, all you can do is listen to him and never disobey. So even after he violates your entire body, expect for you vagina, in a way that is most delicious and pleasurable and drives you to tears at times, you cannot question why he doesn’t seal the deal and finally make you his. He leaves after breakfast to work and you’re left feeling like you’re burning at the stake with lust after he took you on the table once again this morning. He does this often and you’re afraid you really might loose it sometime.
The evenings are more intense than the mornings and last much longer and each night you swear you might lose your mind, Satoru taking pleasure in sucking on your nipples. He could do this for hours, he does often and will make you cry just from this, your nipples so sensitive from his prolonged sucking and squeezing. You jump and whimper with every nip he gives your perky buds, trembling on his lap as you cum, despite how painful it gets and you’re too timid to ask him to stop, biting your lip hard yet still failing to stifle your whining and whimpering, gripping his hair without care of causing him pain and your panties are soaked by the time he finally decides to move on.
After ridding you of your last piece of clothing, he places you down whoever he’s taking you, and sometimes, opts to kneel in between your legs just to torture you all the more. He spreads your folds apart so wide that you can’t help but squirm with desire, your vagina aching so intensely that it hurts more than you can bare, but when you voice this to him, he tells you the same thing every time, that he will kiss it better and the ache will go away, which it never does, you know you need him deep inside of you, you need his thick cock to caress and massage you in place his kisses won’t reach, and it frustrates you to tears that he doesn’t give you just that.
You lose yourself as he sucks and slurps on your clit, and if you’re lucky, he’ll lap the entrance of your achy hole, Satoru completely lost in the taste of your arousal and you’ll use this opportunity to grind your hips against his face harder, but to no avail, since he pulls back. Sometimes you’ll feel his tongue penetrate just the entrance before he goes back to sucking on your clit, and you can’t stop yourself from whining and whimpering. You know how good it feels to have him tongue fuck you, since he reserves for you that much relief on special occasions. He once fingered your achy vagina on your birthday, deep and hard. You came so hard and so much that day that you cried, and he had to hold you tight until you calmed down. You hold onto that memory dearly and you’ve never wanted your birthday to come sooner, hoping that he’ll give you that same experience again, but until then, all you get is his hot mouth in your clit, sucking you into a fit of orgasms so intense they make you violently shake and shiver. While he’s eating you out, you try and remember how his fingers felt inside of you, but it’s been so long that the memory fades a little with every passing day. You can still remember the delicious pain of the stretch of his middle and ring finger when he first shoved them into you and you’ve been craving to feel that ever since. You remember how they felt stroking your walls. You immediately reacted, holding onto him like your life depended on it as you cried out in pleasure right in his face. He makes you squirt often from simply eating you out, but his fingers inside of you made you squirt harder and more relentlessly, you came at his will and couldn’t control it and the way he spoke to you, coupled with his never ending thrusting digits drove you to a magical bliss you could never forget.
“Its not right for you to behave this way sweetheart. It’s unladylike and impure. I married a pure lady and I expect you to remain this way. That’s why I have to do this, so you don’t give in to this impurity. Please understand my love”, he says to you as he holds you tight in his arms after spanking you particularly hard, hushing you from crying and wetting his shirt. “B-but for h-how l-long?”, you ask in stuttered breaths. “Until I see fit”, he immediately answers, looking down at you with disapproval in his gorgeous cloudy, blue eyes and you quickly hide your face in his chest again crying even harder, his arms squeezing you tighter. Maybe if he actually made love to you with his dick like every other normal husband out there, you wouldn’t be such a horny mess and therefore, he wouldn’t have to spank you like this. You could even settle for his fingers. You just needed him inside of you.
Despite your burning and sensitive skin from being spanked good, he still spreads your cheeks apart to eat your little hole out the way you wish he’d eat out your vagina. You might whimper from the pain of his big hands gripping your sensitive skin to keep you open, but when his tongue, that you love so much, penetrates your tighter hole, you forget about the pain, scooting back onto him in hopes that he’ll go deeper, and for this hole, he does just what you need him to, shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you, with a rhythm hard enough to make you cum so good you have to try to crawl away from him. He doesn’t let you though and holds you in place as he continues to slurp and suck the rest of you, prolonging your orgasm until your begging him for a break. You love it when he eats your ass out. You love everything he does to you, and just wish he’d finally fuck you. You’d even let him fuck you in both holes and sometimes when you really really feel yourself on the brink on insanity, you promise him you won’t fuss and whine or complain if he does fuck you. He can fuck you as hard as he wants and you’ll take it, begging and pleading for him to make love to you and the longer you talk like that the more furious he gets, wrapping his hand around your neck in frustration. It takes him a moment to calm himself down, because when you beg him like an ill mannered whore, it angers him enough that he despreslty does want to fuck you. Fuck you until you’ll shut up and not ask for him like this again. You truly have balls to speak such filthy words to him and it’s times like this when the spankings leave you sobbing in his arms.
Please understand, he’s just obsessed with your purity and wants to stretched it out for as long as he desires, restricting himself to what he can do with the rest of your beautiful body and despite the teary meltdown you have after a punishment, you still thoroughly enjoy everything he does to you and look forward to it at every passing moment, especially when he holds and comforts you until you stop crying. You’re too ashamed to confide in any of your sisters or friends about your sexual feelings or even about what you’re experiencing, afraid that he will grow upset with you sharing such intimate details of your commitment to him with others. And he’s not interested in sharing his own dark desires with his peers, because he knows he’s fucked up in this regard. Other men take pleasure in sleeping with their wives, and even though he longs to feel that hot, liquidy, virgin tightness swallow him deep inside of you way more than you could ever imagine, he won’t allow himself to fuck you, becauses he’s much too eager to see you break down until you’re really behaving otherwise from how you were raised. only then will he finally fuck your, as a reward for allowing him to bring you to this point and he will make sure that it will feel better than his two fingers on your birthdays or his tongue that he fucks both your holes with when he’s feeling generous.You see, he’s had his eye on you long before his marriage date was even set and already discussed with his elders that it would be you and no one else. Since he first laid eyes on you until now, he grew an unatural, sick desire to break you until you were nothing near what your parents raised just for him. His desire scared him sometimes too, but it turned him on to a point where he’d come in his pants just thinking about it and the first time it happened, is when he knew he had to accept it.
You listen to your friends talk about their own experiences and it’s always a mission for you to hold your tongue, because even the way you feel is only for him and no one else to know. From all the squirming you do under extreme desire from not feeling satisfied with just his tongue work after he plays around with you, he leaves you with a good spanking before heading out to work. Bending you over his knee at the dinner table, or holding you close against him in the bathroom before he hops in the bathtub for you to wash him, generously showering each of your cheeks with hard smacks, your ass jiggling from the force, turning him on all over again as you cling to him, trying not to make too much noise from the fiery sting his hands cause you. Your ass never gets a break, because he does this to you almost every single day and each day feels ten times worse than the day before. He’ll give you a long break from his merciless punishments sometimes for your own relief of course. He’s not a heartless monster. He’s simply a man of tradition and takes disciplining his wife seriously, to “keep you pure and innocent just for him”, so even besides your shame, your fear towards him is freshly awakened after he spanks you, so you keep your mouth shut, and quietly go on about your day, patiently waiting for him to come back home to somewhat sedate the angry ache between your legs, silently praying to the gods that he might allow you to experience him fully tonight because you just don’t know how much longer you can go without doing something you might deeply regret. He can’t help but think about you wherever he goes, and today, he’s been smiling to himself about how much of a good girl you’ve been. He always forgives you for behaving like a whore, after all, he knows just how tough this is for you, it’s hard for him too. He’s thinking of surprising you with a nice dinner he plans on cooking himself and maybe he’ll fuck you just how you want him to, but only in your tight little asshole, and you’re going to endure it, just like you promised him you would.
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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³
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౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.
─ word count | 2k
─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹
─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke
─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((
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You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.
Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.
Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.
Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.
"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"
You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"
Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."
"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"
Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."
"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."
"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.
"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.
Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."
"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.
"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"
You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.
Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.
You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."
Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."
You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."
Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."
"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"
"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.
You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"
Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."
Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.
Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"
You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."
You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."
Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."
You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."
Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"
"Maybe I'll even be captain."
Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."
You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"
"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"
Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."
You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.
"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.
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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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starsxblazing · 3 months
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Die Of A Broken Heart
Ask and you shall receive. Here is some pure heartbreaking angst to feed us masochists.
Summary: Azriel goes on a mission that should have been simple only for it to end in one of the worst ways possible.
Azriel x Reader
“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You just got back last night and you’re exhausted.”
You watched your husband as he continued to get ready for his mission. It wasn’t really a mission at all unless one thought of the Hewn City that way. There were many that would call it such but to each their own. Azriel stopped his task of lacing his buckles together to give you a smile but when that didn’t seem to satisfy you, he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. 
“As soon as Cassian and I return, you will have me all to yourself,” he assured gently, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Try not to worry so much, love.”
You both admired and hated his work ethic. He was so loving, loyal, and devoted that he spread himself so thin but he was slowly making progress. Very, very slow progress but progress, nonetheless. The two of you had only been married for a few decades and it was as blissful as it could possibly be.
There had been an internal war within you when he had first started courting you. It was no secret that he wanted a mate, that all of the males wanted a mate. You had been hesitant in giving your heart to him because you knew that he had someone wonderful out there that the Mother had made just for him. 
What you hadn’t expected was a one sided mating bond. You had known since the night of your wedding but hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him. Azriel was always so loving and devoted to you that you didn’t have to question him. He assured you more times than you could count that even if his mate did miraculously appear, that he would still choose you. Since you knew that he was your mate, all of those worries had left your mind.
“But you still have to train your new spy for Spring Court,” you huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from him as he continued preparing.
“I have already told Rhys that it will have to wait.” He shot you a playful grin. “You are my priority. The female will still be there in another two weeks.”
“You, the amazing spymaster, are going to take an entire two weeks off?” you asked skeptically. “You are going to go insane with that much time off of work.”
“Actually,” he began, his voice dropping into that delicious seductiveness while he pushed you back into the wall. “I had every intention of keeping myself occupied in much more pleasurable ways.”
The hard length of him pressed into you, earning him a playful giggle. He simply pulled you into a deep kiss that left you both breathless only to do it again before he finally left with one last ‘I love you.’ You always hated to watch him go but knowing that he would be back later that night made it better. It also helped that you had a day planned with Nesta at the bookstore. 
“Did Cassian let anything slip about what they’re supposed to be doing?” you asked the female as you walked down the street.
“He was able to withstand my questioning, surprisingly,” Nesta huffed. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”
“Probably not,” you agreed.
You simply followed your friend throughout the stores, grabbing a few items for yourself before making your way to a nearby cafe. Nesta was relentless in getting you back into training so to appease her, you agreed. It was mostly because you missed the three females that you had made friends with but also because it would keep your mind busy once Azriel left again to train his new spy.
It was hours past time when your husband had promised that he would be home and it had you pacing a hole in the floor of your sitting room. This was the absolute worst part of being committed to someone with such an important job. Each time he was away from you, you prayed for his safety. That was exactly why you fell into a panicked frenzy when Rhys entered your mind to let you know that you were needed at Madja’s.
“What happened?” you demanded breathlessly, bursting into one of the healing rooms only to see a grumbling Azriel sitting up in the bed and holding his head.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Cassian waved it off dismissively despite the serious worry in his eyes. “He just took a hit to the head.”
“The culprit will have a fitting punishment,” Rhys assured when you went to open your mouth. “Take him home and watch over him.”
And so you did. It didn’t help that your husband was grumpier than usual, fussing and ensuring you that he could take care of himself. You weren’t convinced due to his slight stumble and how he continued to hold his bandage wrapped head. He all but fell face first into the bed and there was no way that you could leave him alone.
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You awoke the next morning only to find Azriel’s side of the bed cold. It caused a deep frown to form on your face because he should be there. He was injured on top of promising to stay home. The very least that you had expected was for him to still be cuddled up to you since the sun could barely be seen in the sky. Even after searching the entire house, he was nowhere to be seen and not even his scent lingered in the air. 
In a sigh of defeat, you made your way to the House of Wind in hopes to find some answers. It was also empty up until you made it up to the training ring. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were already there and beginning their warmups for the session.
“Finally come back to join us?” Cassian asked in a teasing voice but his eyes were wary.
“I was actually hoping to find my husband.” You almost tripped over the last word, almost revealing the secret that nobody else knew. “He promised that he would be home for the next two weeks.”
“He said something came up and training that new female was extremely important.” 
You eyed Cassian skeptically, noting that the general appeared uneasy with the topic of conversation. Something wasn’t right and your hand instinctively rubbed against your heart as if the bond was trying to tell you something. It was always there, always lingering and glowing brightly within you but it was dim today. Nesta, who seemed extremely in tune with you, pulled you into the ring with them, insisting that training would help but that dim light wouldn’t change your worry. There was something wrong if the strange new tug was any indication of it.
With nothing better to do, you relented and after warmups, you had a sword in hand. All three females had been training hard and it was a task to keep up with the high spirited Gwyn. You had always loved the priestess and the upbeat, determined energy that always buzzed around her.
You felt it just as soon as you blocked Gwyn’s attack. There was pain that tugged at your heart that caused you to stumble, earning a nice cut on your arm as you hit your knees. You were certain that a scream of pain, one that didn’t come from the new physical injury, left you but you were unaware of anything but the pain in your chest. It was sharp, as if a thousand daggers were piercing you all at once. 
A blinding heat then enveloped that same pain that had your head swimming. The bond that was there slowly dimmed further and you could almost see it. You could almost see the cord rip and shred, the feeling going straight into your chest. The burning paired with the sharpness continued until you could feel it through every fibre of your being where it settled into your very soul. It raged with an intensity that you knew had never been experienced by the world before.
Your heart stopped just as the last pieces of the bond shredded and broke before the blissful darkness took you.
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Even in unconsciousness the pain didn’t stop. It felt like being tied to a spit and being turned over an open, blazing fire. The extreme heat didn’t stop and even after your mind began to clear, you were unable to open your eyes. It felt like you were dying from the inside out but muffled voices hit your ears, thankfully giving you something else to focus on.
“So you are telling me that your new spy is your mate?”
Rhys. That voice that was unmistakable and laced with frustration.
“It just happened, Rhys.”
Your husband. The one that was your mate that somehow had another mate. You searched inside of you and all that was left of the one sided bond were shredding sharp threads blowing in an openness of an unfamiliar void. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. You couldn’t understand.
“What do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Those three whispered words felt like another knife to the heart, continuing to slice into your already shredded soul.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a wife that loves you! A wife that you have been happily in love with for decades!”
The quiet words of the High Lord were nearly a growl, obviously angry with his spymaster.
“She’s my mate, Rhys!” 
Your husband was attempting to defend himself as if the mating bond had finally taken over him completely.
“You just met this female. She is supposed to be your apprentice. Your student. Nothing more.”
Azriel truly had left you, while he was injured, only to find his mate. You wanted to cry but the pain, the heat, kept you from doing anything. 
“Well that’s not what happened.” 
“What is more, your wife fell in training and has been unconscious for days while in a pain that none of us can figure out while you have refused to come back because you have been with your mate!”
It was all that you needed to hear. Your worst fears that had been present before the bond had happened. He had been spending time with his mate all while you had been unconscious and in immense pain and hadn’t bothered to answer his High Lord’s attempts to reach him. You must have finally been able to move because you heard quick footsteps just before a familiar set of hands were wrapped around yours.
“Y/n.” Azriel’s pleading voice barely registered in your mind. “Please look at me.”
It felt wrong to do so but you did. You loved him with all that you were and it was now your downfall. There was such worry on his face and his eyes went wide at whatever he found or didn’t find on your face. Even through the blazing haze, you barely registered the deep concern and made you wondered why he cared all of a sudden.
“Are you alright?” It was Rhysand’s voice this time as he pushed the shadowsinger away from you. “How can I help?”
“I’ll be fine,” you rasped, your throat raw as if you had been screaming.
“You have been screaming,” Rhys confirmed in a gentle but quiet voice. “Let me help you.”
A growl came from behind you but you focused on those violet eyes that made you feel just the tiniest bit better.
“I just need my bed and some time.”
He nodded, seemingly determined to give you whatever you wanted.
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It took two weeks for you to pull yourself together enough to present yourself somewhat normally. Azriel had stayed with you for a week before leaving for his next mission, leaving you at the House with Nesta and Cassian. You knew that it wasn’t a mission. They didn’t know that you had overheard the conversation and knew that your husband had a mate that wasn’t you. 
By the time that the third week had passed, Azriel came into your room and watched you cautiously. It had taken you that long since the bond broke to act like your normal self but the pain, the burning of your soul never stopped. The broken threads cut into you over and over with no way to stop it. You were sure that you were going mad and you only allowed yourself to succumb to it whenever you knew that you would be alone for a while.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t move closer. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” you asked as casually as you could even though a piece of you knew what was coming.
“I found my mate,” he whispered.
“Oh.”
This time it came out as a broken whisper, your fear only fueling the flame inside of you. Your heart picked up a rapid pace in your chest and you were sure that it was going to explode if it didn’t stop.
“I need-” He swallowed hard, his eyes lining with tears. “I need to at least get to know her.”
“You promised me, Azriel,” you croaked. “Please.”
“Just give me three weeks, y/n. Please.”
“Az…” Your voice trailed off and you realized that there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
Despite his voice sounding thick and desperate, he simply brushed a light kiss against your lips. Your heart continued to race in panic and that pain raged blindingly until it was dark once again.
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Azriel felt horrible for leaving you because he had promised you for decades that he would never leave you. He promised that he would love you and only you for the rest of eternity and even though that would always be true, he had to be sure. No sooner than he was in the sky after leaping off of the balcony on the House of Wind, a pair of hands were around him and he was suddenly in his dungeon.
“What the hell, Rhysand?” he growled, frustrated and annoyed and Cassian and the two fae in the chairs barely caught his eye.
“I came back here with Cassian to continue the work that you should have done after being attacked and learned a great deal of information.”
“Like what?” he snapped, his feet shifting while he debated on winnowing away.
“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” the High Lord growled. “As it turns out, that blast of power that sent you flying into the wall and causing your concussion cursed you.”
That caused him a pause and he eyed the two males that he had met with.
“Your ‘mating bond’ is fake.”
“But-”
“Tell him,” Rhysand ordered the males, refusing to let him speak.
“The female- your wife- is your mate,” one bit out. “You are holding us back in this horrid place so we cursed you to be chained to another female so that you would move courts.”
Because he would. If his mate didn’t want to live in Night Court, he would follow her. He looked between his brothers who didn’t appear to have the first bit of sympathy for him. Rhysand obviously knew that he had just left you for his mate and didn’t care about his wishes any longer.
In his desperation to get back to you, to right his wrong and beg for your forgiveness, he began his methods. It didn’t take much to get them to break and the curse cured. In an instant, he no longer felt that fake mating bond but when he looked to his High Lord, he was pale and frozen in place.
“Let’s go.”
Rhysand grabbed both him and Cassian, winnowing them back into the House. They sprinted towards your room only to find Madja hovering over you, her face pale and grave when she looked at them.
“What’s happening?” he asked in a panic, running to your side and pulling your freezing cold hand into his.
“She’s dying.” Madja’s voice was just as grave as her face. “Her body is shutting down.”
“Y/n!” Azriel yelled, shaking you as much as he dared to try to get you to open your eyes.
Madja’s hand was over your heart, looking as if she was focusing extra hard on it.
“Her heart is beating too fast,” the female murmured. “I have no way to slow it.”
Panic overtook him entirely and he continued to shake you in desperation. Your lips had turned blue and there was no color to your face even though your chest rose and fell in an unhealthy rhythm. Finally, finally, you opened your eyes. There was no life there and the quick flicker of recognition was all that it took. A dim light simmered within him, a light wrapped around a simple thread that should have been tied to you. 
He followed it to the end only to find an endless void. That quick flicker of remembering him only lasted a second before your eyes closed again. 
Just as you closed your eyes and your chest came to a stop, the thin thread within him shredded apart.
He thought he heard himself scream, a scream of desperation and pain, as he felt like he had been set on fire. It was a heat that far surpassed the flames that had ruined the hands that you loved so much and he didn’t know if he could handle it. His wife, his mate, his true mate was gone and left shattered threads blowing in a new void in its wake. He couldn’t breathe as it felt like his heart was being shredded into pieces and it picked up its pace in his chest. It felt like he was about to implode.
And as the darkness pulled him closer, he realized what had been your fate and what would now be his. He realized what it was like to die of a broken heart.
Tag List:
@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover
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zeezelweazel · 4 months
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LOVED the last Leah smut it got me thinking would you be interested in writing something inspired by the new Dyson commercial that one scene where she's on her knees?
Leah Williamson| Sore Loser|
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I know it's been a while since that commercial but... we were all thinking it don't lie
TW: strap on use, praise kink, mommy kink, light bondage, degradation, taking pictures during sex,
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Your girlfriend is insanely competitive. Leah is always doing the most to win whenever there's any sort of competition. Especially when it comes to football. It doesn't matter if it's an important match or a friendly, Leah wants to win. But that's not how football works. Losing is a part of the game.
A part of the game Leah definitely doesn't know how to handle.
The skipper all but slapped your hand away when you went to her after the final whistle. You watched with a frown as she went straight for the tunnels, ignoring or snapping at anyone who tried to talk to her.
This is why the blonde is in this position right now. It's not a punishment, you know that's not what Leah needs, just a little something to help her forget about the match and arsenal's horrible performance.
"You look so pretty baby, taking my cock like a good slut."
Leah whines and tries to hide her face in her arms that are tied in front her. Your girlfriend always looked amazing from this view. Ass up, exposing her wet pussy for you to take, with her upper body pushed down on the bed. What makes it even better though is the gorgeous jersey she is currently wearing. It belongs to you with your number and your last name proudly printed on the back. You pull the fabric down a little bit, just to make sure that you can see your name clearly before you start slowly grinding your hips against Leah's.
You've teased the blonde quite a lot today and you're more than impressed with how well she's taken it. You've been completely still inside her for some time now, simply content on snapping pictures of her rather than actually fucking her. Leah is dripping, her juices smeared on her inner thighs and her muscles twitch pathetically at the slightest of movement.
You enjoy having her like this, when she's so desperate a single touch sends her into overdrive.
You rub the soft flesh of her ass appreciatively and hum in delight when Leah's breath hitches. The slow grind of your hips doesn't stop as you start to paw and squeeze at her ass and Leah whimpers and squirms. She mumbles something, her voice muffled by her hands. "I didn't hear you baby."
Leah throws a glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes full of desperate tears when they meet yours, and she whines needily.
"Please mommy, fuck me. I need you."
You grin menacingly when Leah finally begs like the sweet girl she is. You pull out all the way before slamming back in with a powerful thrust. Leah moans loudly and her head falls back down in between her tied hands. You go with slow but hard and deep thrusts making sure to hit all the spots that make her squeal and scream. You groan at the sight of the usually dominant captain on her knees for you moaning and whining like a whore and you pick up your phone once more this time angling the phone so you can capture her greedy cunt swallowing your strap. Leah clenches hard around the strap when she hears the clicking sound of your phone's camera and you smirk down at her.
"God you're such a pathetic slut for mommy." Leah doesn't answer but you don't expect her too, the blonde's brain so high on pleasure that the only thing she can do is moan and scream for you. After you put your phone down you rub over her clit with your free hand and thrashes against the soft sheets of the bed.
"Oh god! Please mommy I wanna come!"
You offer nothing but a chuckle at Leah's pleas as you continue to pound her into the mattress mercilessly. You feel Leah's clit throb against your fingers and you push her head against the sheets when the blonde starts begging again. Leah gets the message and shuts up, hoping that she can hold on long enough because the last thing she wants is to come without permission. You feel the other end of the strap pushing deep in you and you chase your own high, forgetting about Leah for a while.
You groan and grip Leah's hips tightly while your hips stutter and your pace turns fast and sloppy. "You're so fucking tight baby. I'm gonna to come. You want mommy to come inside your pretty cunt?"
"Yes, please!"
You moan quietly and topple over leah as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. Leah on the other hand couldn't fight back her tears. She was bitting her lip hard trying not to come, she oh so desperately wants to be a good girl for you. You take a while to gather yourself after you come. When you do you turn your head towards Leah, moving her hair away from her face and you coo when you notice the tear tracks on her cheeks. You press chaste kisses on her skin and rub her clit again. Leah moans and grinds her hips down on your hand. You pull back to focus on your thrusts not wanting to tease Leah any longer.
"Come for me pretty girl. I know you want to."
Leah comes with a scream after a few seconds but you don't stop your movements, helping Leah ride out her high. After a few minutes of pressing soft kisses all over Leah's face you pull out slowly.
You always feel bad whenever Leah looses a match. Mainly because of how sad she gets. But when you think about how she lets you ravish her after you secretly hope arsenal looses every game.
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shisnhou · 2 years
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does anyone else have thoughts about gojo satoru who wants to buy you sexy lingerie for your birthday present, but doesn’t know what your bra or panty size is.
the man is walking into the lingerie store with his head held up high and his cheeks tainted red. all the women, and their significant others look at him with a confused yet intrigued look. why‘s this extremely handsome man walking into the lingerie store alone?
with long confident strides, this man walks to the set aisle. his blue eyes widen behind the designer sunglasses, and it isn’t the price tags that fluster him—he could care less about the insane price tags—what flusters him is the material and style of the lingerie.
he swallows, hard. he suppresses the shaking of his hand and reaches out for the dark blue lingerie before his also very blue eyes.
"excuse me sir?" a woman appears out of no where, breaking goio‘s impure imagination of you in said lingerie. "is there anything i can help you with?" she asks, cocking a brow.
gojo puts the lingerie down and stammers, licking his lips for a moment before coming to his senses. "i— yeah." he thinks hard and keeps his mind straight. "can i have this for my girl?"
"sure," she nods, taking the lingerie from his hands. "this is our limited edition, by the way. we only have two of these ever made by our famous designer.." gojo could honestly care less about what she is saying. all he‘s thinking of right now is taking the sinful piece and placing it on you as soon as possible.
"yeah." he nods, already looking around for another sexy set.
"the person you‘re with must be really lucky." she chuckles, still doing whatever the fuck she‘s supposed to do and looks at him. "this is one of a kind." she further adds. he nods again. "so i‘ll have to ask.."
"what‘s their size?"
gojo stops.
"what?"
"it‘s limited edition, so there‘s no size other than this. we have to make sure it‘s their size." she looks at him.
gojo halts. his whole body shuts down as he looks at it. he hadn‘t thought that part through. he thought that if he‘d see what looks good, he‘d immediately know it was made for you. but for god sake, now that he’s here, he doesn’t have a single clue.
"i— um—" he stammers, trying to explain it. "it‘s—"
"do you not know it?" she frowns. "i mean it‘s okay. you‘d just have to ask her then come—"
"no! i know it!" he cuts her off quick, pressing his fingers to his temple. "it‘s— it‘s.."
without even realizing it, gojo brings up both his hands to the air and makes an odd shape. the woman watches and eyes him oddly as he continues to further describe the shape.
"what‘re you doing…?"
"i‘m trying to show you." without a single ounce of shame, this man then puts his hands on the bra and feels it.
he‘s trying to figure out your tit size with his hands.
"yeah, that‘s it." he nods, sure of himself. then he grabs the thong. he places it flat on his palm and sees the size before nodding once again and smiling to the woman. "mhm, that‘s the right size."
the woman stares at him, bewildered. her jaw hangs agape, throat dry as she watches gojo move around and look at her. "yeah, that‘s it. it‘s her perfect size."
without even awaiting her response, he proudly takes the set from her and walks away, not even bothering to check the number tag for the size as he goes around and does the same for every piece of lingerie he encounters.
the people look at him, meanwhile he couldn‘t give a damn. he simply walks around, and purchases what he found with pride, leaving the store and the people in there more confused than they ever were in their lives.
and when the man gives it to you during your birthday, somehow, some fucking way, it‘s actually the right fucking size. and when he knows about it, he‘ll smugly tell you the story about how he found out your size and you‘ll just be left embarrassed the next time you‘re walking into that store with him.
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mahtharula · 11 months
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✧・゚— nailtech!connie headcanons
starring: nail tech!connie x black!fem!reader wc: 627 cw: purely fluff 🫶🏾
nailtech!connie was the tech all of the girls wanted to book with. yeah, he knew how to get your hands right, but everyone wanted to book simply to get a closer look of the man. from his dyed buzz cut head that always had a different design every time you came into the shop, to his tall, to the tattoos that decorated his arms and hands perfectly and his eyes. oh his hazel eyes is what gets them.. but most importantly, his nails! 
nailtech!connie is both a great listener and conversationalist! Honestly, he should add being a therapist to his qualifications because the amount of advice he has given his clients is insane. most of the time, they complain about their man and his line is, “you too pretty to be dealing with that.” (which have the girls swooning out of their minds).
nailtech!connie who definitely plays music during his appointments. of course, he caters to his clients preference of music and rocks from there, but baby if you give him the aux you will be far from disappointed. his music is so diverse, it ranges from partynextdoor to bossa nova, depending on his mood. his main goal is to make the client comfortable, so when booking with him he has a section where he asks if you want a talkative or silent session.
nailtech!connie who learned to do nails after watching his aunt  do it for some time. at first, he only learned to expand his creativity as an artist since he dabbled in many mediums, but once he got the hang of it he was hooked. as he continued  perfecting the craft  and posting his work, two  years and a half later he had enough money to rent out a studio and widen his client intake.
nailtech!connie because of the overwhelming number of clients who began booking with him since the opening, trying to squeeze in new clients was a tricky task. most times, connie would be booked for weeks making it hard to even get a taste of his talent on your nails. so when his homegirl was begging for him to do her best friend's nails, all he had to say was that she was lucky one of his regulars canceled. 
nailtech!connie was absolutely floored when you walked into his studio. of course, he catered to many women due to his career, but something about you just had him stuck. from your smooth, dark skin to your locs that ended at the middle of your back, your plump lips that revealed a pearly white, gem decorated smile. you were like a dream personified. As you were explaining your vision for your nails to connie, he was trying his very best to focus but your scent of shea butter and florals was distracting him, “you paying attention, con?” “huh? yeah, yeah, i am!”
nailtech!connie trying to learn everything about you. from your favorite foods to what you do as a career, all of it. when he found out you were a rapper, he only wanted to go harder pulling out some exclusive charms he was saving. something he did love was how despite giving him an idea of what you wanted, you basically gave him freedom to present your idea into his vision, which he absolutely loved.
nailtech!connie who kept refusing to take the full payment and insisted on giving you a discount (because he can). after a few times, you finally convinced him to take the payment, but asked if you could become a regular because his work was so good. it only took a flutter of your lashed extensions for the man to fold,  but he only had one rule: don’t cheat on him.
✧・゚— author’s note • hey y’all!! i hope this was good, i’m super proud of it but please give me feedback 🙏🏾. do y’all want more nailtech!connie? do ya’ll want more connie & y/n 😗? let me know and i appreciate y’all, until next time 🖤
tags : @yourrfavzxri , @theemrsjaeger , @hqkalon , @1h3artm3
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sinning-23 · 4 months
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Hello,
How about a LA luffy where he's dating Reader and he keeps talking about her but no one believes him until she comes and rescue them or something I know not much details but please take this to your account English isn't my first language so excuse me
OMG THIS IS PERFECT! Thank you for the request! I apologize for taking so long to write it I've been so busy and full of writers block its insane! I added a little twist with his and made th reader a gunslinger sooo yeah(for the plot) Anywa here we go! Enjoy
Warnings: None
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The strawhat crew was becoming increasingly irritated with how much Luffy would speak of this mystery woman who he claimed to be his 'girlfriend'. In all honestly, neither of them thought he had the romantic capacity to even GET a girlfriend to begin with. But the way he spoke of her...it couldn't all be lies could it?
He mentioned how you'd saved him with your remarkable skills as a gunslinger and you were an amazing shot. He gushed about how it took only one bullet to kill three men who had threatened him and when it was all over you 'pepper his face with kisses'. How you were always there to save him more times than not and that you were just absolutely beautiful. The 'prettiest girl' he'd ever seen as he told it.
"If you guys are so in love why didn't she join you on this little pirate adventure." Nami quips, eyes rolling at the most recent story Luffy had explained. He only tilted his head and smiled as if the answer was just so obvious (it wasn't.)
"It wasn't her dream." He smiles, rocking back and for a bit as Zoro finished off his drink before speaking.
"This wasn't exactly our first choice either but here we are." the swordsman smirks, his arms crossed over his chest.
The smirk was soon replaced with irritation when the waiter went to speak.
"That's different. Besides, I'm sure Luffy wouldn't leave a woman like that all on her lonesome. Right?" Sanji questions, more so trying to convince himself Luffy had more sense than that. But the brunette only shakes his head.
"Nope, she said we would cross paths again one day and I let her be. It was a deal! And now I get to wait until one day I see her beautiful face again." And before anyone could protest or pry any further, Luffy stuffed his face with food.
A sigh rang out from Nami as she leaned against the seating of the booth they're in, only to quickly shoot back up with wide eyes. Since Luffy's bounty had got a hell of a whole lot bigger, there was always the occasional run-in with someone who claimed they'd be getting their money sooner rather than later.
On this particular night though, a gang of about 6 or 7 had strutted up to their booth and slammed his bounty on the cracked wood of the table, making it shake. Zoro paused, debating if these idiots were worth the fight and Luffy continued to eat without a care in the world.
"I'm getting that bounty tonight." Then, what they all assumed was the leader spoke, his hand drawing his sword. This could have gotten ugly rather quickly but the fight seemed to be over with the sound of fired shots ringing through the eatery.
It was so quick you'd almost miss it…each shot followed by another, and one by one each of the men dropped like flies, screams and gasps of frightened patrons filling up the space momentarily. From the darkened corner of the bar stood a woman in a rather large coat that almost touched the floor.
The revolver in her hand rattled before she tucked it away into one of the many pockets that adorned her body. She was a decent height, and her hair was pushed out of her face most likely to keep her line of sight from being obscured. Finally, the once look of disgust that was painted over her features was filled with joy as she stepped over the bodies of the men she'd just laid to waste.
"Luffy!" She squeals, practically vibrating as the Stawhat leaped form his seat and embraced the mystery woman.
This wasn't the usual hug though, Luffy had simply lifted the lady and twirled her, his face buried in the crook of her neck and she giggled and tangled her fingers in his hair.
"I'm sorry did we miss something?" Nami quips, looking to the rest of the crew to confirm they were just as lost.
"This is her! Remember the girl I've been talking about!?" He practically shouts, his hand secure at your waist as that iconic smile plays over his lips.
Oh okay it was finally starting to make sense. Two cinimon rolls but one can and will kill you if they so desire...well-
Nami is the first to laugh, disbelief filling her but the closer she looks the more her laughter and smirk dies down. Luffy's hand was firm at your waist, yours on his chest as you flash a content smile.
"Y/n, meet my crew!" Luffy introduces as you jut your hand out happily, meeting that of whom you soon learn is Usopp and Sanji. Nami was next and Zoro simple noddded in your direction.
"You really know how to pick em! Congratulations on this bounty by the way love." You hum, pressing kisses over Luffy's freckled cheeks.
Damn how much love and affection could you give? It was like every two seconds your lips were pressed somewhere against their Captain’s face! And he didn’t seems to mind at all! Well, not that Luffy was bothered by it but still! With one last kiss to your boyfriend’s face, you usher the crew out of the eatery, sliding the bartender some extra berrie to apologize for the ruckus.
The two of you looked so inseparable like that, hands interlinked and swinging back and forth simultaneously.
“You know what this means don’t you. Usopp teases, sticking his hand out awaiting Nami to fulfil her end of the bargain.
She swears in defeat roller her eyes before paying.
Who wouldn’t make a bet on something as outlandish as their captain having a girlfriend!?
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uzurimisery · 6 months
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chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw
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Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.
wc: 4,422
waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read
AO3 version here | Series Master
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“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”
Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was. 
Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most. 
The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.
You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.
You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.
Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.
"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”
A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine. 
"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."
His jaw tensed. 
“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.” 
“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing. 
"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."
“And what is my role in this performance?” 
"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."
His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.
The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.
The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him. 
He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.
Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.
“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”
_
When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.
While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.
There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them. 
But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.
As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.
Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.
Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.
A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."
Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"
"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."
As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.
For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.
The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.
"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."
"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.
Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.
The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.
Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.
You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.
“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.
Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.” 
Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."
He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”
Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.
___
Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.
He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal. 
His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.
Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind. 
You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.
You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back. 
“Corio, what's wrong?”
Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.
"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”
Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.” 
He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.
 Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.
Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.
He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.
“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.” 
“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”
“Well I’d have your mother.” 
You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him.  The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms. 
Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.
“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.” 
“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’ 
Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.
Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.
You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.
It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him. 
Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him. 
A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick. 
“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom. 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”
“How do you know this?”
You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”
He hummed in agreement. 
“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.” 
“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”
“But we aren't.”
“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”
“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.” 
You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast. 
He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you. 
“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.” 
His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes. 
Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.
“Nothing is wrong.”
"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."
He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.
"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.
"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."
Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.
Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.
"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.
You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.
“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”
 Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door. 
He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile. 
The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting. 
The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight. 
His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.
“Oh my!”
He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.
A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them. 
Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained. 
Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip. 
“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.” 
Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.
“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.” 
“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.” 
He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly. 
“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”
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scandalcus · 1 year
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‧₊˚⊹ sweet - ellie williams x afab!reader
summary: ellie teasing and pleasing u content warnings: smut (no plot), teasing, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering(r!receiving), top!ellie, bottom!reader, ellie calls reader princess once, etc. notes: i saw this and couldn't help myself, something short i threw together that wasn’t really proofread so i hope it doesn’t suck too bad
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“Tell me what you want,” Ellie coaxes, her voice laced with a teasing tone. She was nestled between your spread legs, mouth only inches away from your heat, her warm breath fanning over your pussy eliciting a small whimper from you. Her gaze was downcast as she grazed her fingertips across your slit, watching them gleam with your slick. Your cunt pathetically contracted around nothingness as you impatiently waited for her, the searing ache between your thighs growing to become too much.
Her fingers barely tease your clit causing you to buck your hips up in response, only to have them forcibly pushed back into the mattress by herself. Her movements still before she pulls away completely, the ghost of her touch still lingering; you whine at the sudden halt. “Use your words, princess,” she goads in the most delicious way, the sound of her voice alone making your brain foggy. "Show me how much you need me.”  
There was no winning this battle, Ellie will literally tease you to the point past suffering just to get the upper hand on you, and you knew this; but you couldn’t help yourself. You had too much pride, you wanted to hold onto the ounce of dignity you had left, so you found yourself appreciating silence, even though you felt your sanity diminishing every second you lay sprawled beneath her, yearning for her to please you. 
“Don’t act shy now.” Ellie quips, bringing her lips to suck on the skin of your inner thigh and slowly leaving a trail of raspberry-colored blemishes approaching your cunt, which she deliberately neglects. She’s pushing you, determined to get you to convey your desires.
The throb between your thigh becomes painfully obvious, the frustration is driving you insane. You bite your lip to mute the whine that so desperately wants to escape. Ellie isn’t oblivious to your struggle, she’s just waiting for you to stop being so stubborn.
 "Please, Ellie.." 
The sound of your own voice brings a flush to your cheeks, you sound pathetic, really. It was almost humiliating, but the ache in your belly was too overpowering, the sensation was eating you alive.
"You can do better than that," she tuts, her voice oozing with mockery. Asshole. 
You had no choice but to swallow your pride; meanwhile, Ellie's expression was nothing short of it. Watching as you unraveled at the seams for her, needy and a desperate, eager mess beneath her. It did nothing but fire up Ellie's ego. She drove you crazy in the best way possible.
"Fuck- Ellie, touch me, please," you whine, protruding your bottom lip at her. Finally, after what felt like forever, she leisurely drags her tongue through your folds, taking her time to lap up the taste of you, letting your saccharine sweetness coat her tongue. She shifts between your legs and pulls your closer, causing a yelp to erupt from your throat. She tauntingly flicks her tongue against your clit, the subtle movements drive you absolutely crazy. You and her both know it simply isn’t enough; you need more, the slick between your thighs is enough to prove it. 
“Mm.. more,” you whine, “please,”
“You’re so needy,” Ellie hums, looking up at you through hooded eyelids. She was just as desperate to taste you, but she’s better at expressing herself with her actions than her words. Her eagerness displays itself when she increases her movements. Her tongue greedily swirls around your clit, your body involuntarily twitching with every perfect stroke. You entangle your fingers into her hair, pulling and tugging her closer into the expanse of your pussy as she continues to trace shapes into your sensitive bundle.
You’re so entranced in the pleasure, you didn’t realize her right-hand venturing up your thigh, not until two of her digits slip into your entrance, your pillowy walls flutter around the sudden intrusion, the sensation forcing a hoarse cry out of you. She hums against you after feeling how needily you clamped around her, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.
“You taste so sweet,” she utters beneath her breath, words muffled against your heat. She gave you little time to adjust before she began at a relentless pace, her two glistening fingers disappearing in and out of your cunt, her pace creating lewd, wet noises. 
Your legs wobble as she curves her fingers inside of you, reaching that sweet spongy spot that sent you into overdrive. You dragged out a string of curse words as she mercilessly pounded her fingers in and out of you, creeping in a third finger because she knows “you can take it…” Her left-hand caresses the swell of your hips, the touch is soft and delicate in contrast to the brutal assault on your pussy. 
“Feels good?” she asks, looking up at you through her eyelashes, her chin glistening in your essence. She replaces her tongue with the pad of her thumb while she waits for your response, sweat lining at her forehead. She bit her lip as she watched you squirm under her touch, engraving the ethereal image into her memory forever. 
“Feels s’good- fuck” you moan between labored breathing. You throw your head back and squeeze your eyelids shut, hallucinating stars as Ellie fucks you dumb with her fingers. She brings her lips back around your clit, sucking on the bundle as her fingers scissor and curl inside of you, the combination producing a sequence of obscene squelching sounds paired with the moans emitting from your throat.
“You’re doing so well, look s’pretty,” she coaxes you through it, the praise causing your heart to stutter. Your abdomen twinged with euphoria, pure ecstasy coursing through your body as she worked the skilled combination of her tongue and fingers on you, the blend making you dizzy. Flashes of an ivory white prick at the side of your vision, you feel your stomach tighten with each pump of her fingers. 
“Don’t stop, so close,” you mustered between breaths, only motivating Ellie to make her movements more erratic. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, faint images of mandalas fade in and out of your vision as your limbs spasm, your pussy convulsing around her fingers. You shamelessly gasp and cry out as Ellie continues to fuck you through your high, lapping up every last drop of the wet rush flooding out of you.
Ellie doesn’t slow down until you start to loosen your grip on her hair, your body relaxing as your chest rises up and down with each heavy exhale. She finally pulls her fingers out of you, making sure to clean up every bead of your arousal, sucking her own fingers dry, savoring your taste.    
You slowly blink your eyes open, coming face to face with Ellie, who’s face is glistening in your slick. She places her hand under your chin and collides her lips with yours, letting you taste yourself, the salty yet saccharine sensation on the tip of your tastebuds stirs up something animalistic inside of you, you can’t help but moan, earning yourself an amused smile from Ellie, every hint of flattery going straight to her head. She was never going to let you live this down.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃. 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ♡
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homunculus-argument · 3 months
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Why are you Finns so miserable? From an outside perspective, as someone who lives in a country where our government has continuously failed us, your country seems to be nearly perfect. It seems like paradise.
I truly feel that most people living in my country would kill to live in one like yours. I would saw off my leg if it meant that I could have the guaranteed quality of life that you guys have.
So why are you guys so sad? Is it the cold? The lack of sunlight? I’m seriously at a loss here, because I feel like you guys really take your homeland for granted.
I have no idea. Being alive is simply an unpleasant obligation and a thankless duty that you owe to nobody in particular and gain nothing out of doing. I was literally born as an unpleasant obligation - my parents didn't like each other and they didn't like children, but they married each other and had two kids because that's what people are supposed to do. When we whined as kids about how we don't want to go to school, they'd just say "well I don't want to go to work, either, but unfortunately that's just what life is." Life consists of going places you don't want to go to do things you don't want to do.
My mother once told me that if I ever kill myself, she will go completely insane, just the way that my grandmother went insane when my aunt killed herself. I was like 15 at the time when she told me this, I had been three years old when the aforementioned aunt died. I had never known her, but I was raised with the understanding that the only reason to continue being alive is peer pressure. You don't get to die, you have to keep living because the people around you would be sad if you quit. It's a mutual hostage situation.
Back when the church had more power and death penatly was a thing, there were people who committed crimes that had a death penalty (or claimed to have committed them, depending on the crime) in order to get executed rather than simply commit suicide, because suicide was an unforgivable sin but if you were executed, you could still confess your sins before the final blow and die with hopes of going to heaven.
Finns aren't oblivious of how bad things are everywhere else, or how good we have it. That, too, is a source of misery. It's a whole country of "you have no reason to be sad, there are people out there with real problems" and being reminded that everything everywhere else is even more miserable than how we have it. That anyone else would be ready to kill or saw off their own leg to get to be here, and here we are squandering all this potential by sitting here like a miserable little piece of shit.
Frankly, I am baffled by the concept that there really are people who just genuinely, honestly, wholeheartedly want to live. Like as a preferrable option to having never been born at all. To me, finding happiness in life has always been a "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" sort of thing, finding silver linings out of the unfortunate matter that I happened to be born.
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e-hibiscus · 4 months
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Pairing: Rahu x reader
Warnings: NSFW, Transfem!Rahu, oral
Author’s Note: Rushed & not proof read| not uber happy with it, but i just wanted it out of my drafts
Minors DNI! | NSFW! under the cut
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Desperate. That would be one way to describe the expression etched onto Rahu’s face at this moment. Her unwavering loyalty and desire to heed your command have left her utterly helpless to your actions as she hasn’t been given the order to move– to even touch you. Each action you took was with deliberate care, riling up the sinner to the point where she’d like nothing more than to grab your hips, flip you over, and ravish your body in the only way she knows how. Well and deep, until her cock molds itself into the velvety walls of your pussy. However, now there’s little she could do.
It was taking every ounce of self-restraint to exhibit her self-control as your hands start wandering down, unblucking her belt while planting soft kisses along her neck, collarbone, and chest. You’ve long since removed the offending piece of clothing. Leaving her top exposed and sculpted body out for display for you to worship. For only you to touch.
You have yet to go further in freeing her erection. Her cock remains in the confines of her pants, straining against the material while shifting around in hopes to get some stimulation. She’s left desperate and needy in your hold.
Rahu hasn’t been able to see for the past half-hour. Her discarded tie acts as her make-shift blindfold, though not tight, remains fastened over her eyes. She could feel every little sensation as she was left seated at the edge of the bed with you sitting upon her lap.
Your hand presses down on the aching bulge in her pants. The breathy whine escaping Rahu’s lips is loud despite the muffling from her mask. The way her chest quickens with its rise and fall shows how hard she’s trying to hold back. Knuckles white, Rahu grips the sheets to maintain control. It doesn’t help that she can feel the dampness of your core staining her pants as you continuously ride her thigh instead of using her throbbing cock.
“Poor puppy, you’re getting so worked up.” Your words came out breathlessly beside her ear causing the woman beneath you to shudder. Your hand grips onto Rahu’s chin, tilting it to the side so your lips can meet the sensitive skin of her neck.
The way your lips feel on her skin was like fire. Rahu lets out a muffled groan as your teeth lightly nipped at her pulse point. Gods, how much willpower Rahu is using just to simply stay put. The mere seconds you were by her neck felt excruciatingly long, but Rahu could do nothing more but let out a shaky breath lest she loses control.
She wants nothing more than to rip off the blindfold so she could see your face. The pure bliss that crossed your face as your hips glide along the material on her thigh. Rahu could hear how your voice tapers higher as you’re just about to cum. The sinner can only imagine your face. How your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you cum with your hands clinging to her body.
Why did you have to cover her eyes? Rahu doesn’t understand. She was being good, wasn’t she?
Once you pull away, freeing her cock from the confines of her pants and boxers, you can see how hard she has become. How much of a mess Rahu is reduced to.
Your hand glides along her shaft, fingers ghosting over the tip before collecting the liquid there and pumping it along the entire length of Rahu’s cock. Your touch in general felt like fire, but in a good way. Warm enough for her to want to lean into your touch yet too much at the same time. This has her moaning shamefully, much to Rahu’s own embarrassment.
Pride blossoms in your chest seeing Rahu unravel in such a way. Gradually, you’re chipping away at her control. Seeing the usually in-control and level-headed Rahu get needy and desperate was something you don’t get to see often.
The fact she couldn’t touch you was driving her insane. At the very least, Rahu wants her lips on yours, but the mask stays on. Like a muzzle, it prevents her from reaching your supple lips or marking her claim on the soft skin of your body. She wants to be able to touch you– to have her lips on yours. Her desperate pleas for more contact manifested into another whine.
At this you slowly pull away, removing all physical contact from Rahu for a moment, leaving the poor woman confused by your actions. Her confusion was short-lived though as she felt your hot breath between her legs. Despite sitting down, her legs already felt weak in anticipation.
“You’re going to be good right, Rahu? Remember…” Your command was absolute, “No touching or we’ll have to start all over again m’kay?”
You stick your tongue out, offering nothing more than a few kitten licks to the tip of Rahu’s cock. Your hands wrapped around her shaft as you offer the bare minimum of stimulation for her. She’s breathing heavy, breath beginning to go ragged as you start taking her length in your mouth.
An hour of teasing had Rahu on edge. You’ve stopped every time the woman was about to be pushed over the edge. Rahu’s hands kept finding their way into your hair when you start deepthroating her cock. This time though, Rahu kept her hands to herself, the needy whine escaping her lips doesn’t go unnoticed as you suck her with fevor.
“Please, please, please, m’gonna cum… Don’t stop now.” Rahu’s body was trumbling from the sensation of your mouth wrapped around her cock for the nth time. You softly moan as Rahu’s grunting at each bob of your head. You can feel her cock twitch and throb in your throat until her orgasms washed over her.
Being deprived of her sight had her body shuttering from the sheer intensity of each wave of the euphoric feeling. Ropes of her cum came spurting down your throat. Her thick and warm cum filling up the cavern of your mouth has Rahu tense. Some of it dribbled out of your mouth as you pulled away, whipping your mouth clean as you watched Rahu’s body relax and slump slightly.
You gently pull down the tie covering her eyes. You’re pepperng her face with kisses as Rahu finally gets to see you. Your fingers brush away the pretty tears before pushing your lips against Rahu’s. Tasting herself on your tongue has her moaning. Pulling away, Rahu’s needy expression spoke for herself.
“C’mon puppy,” Your hand gently pushes the sinner so she’s laying down in the sheets, hair splayed out as you cage her underneath your smaller frame. “Let me ride you first, and then you can fuck me silly for the night. Does that sound good?”
All you needed was Rahu’s eager nod before she felt your pussy swallow her whole.
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