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#or (B.) get the fuck out of there however I can
bandgie · 3 days
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Cat and Mouse
mdni18+ | fem!reader, pussy eating, teeth use, manipulation (from both parties), fuckboy!wooyoung, cum eating (m!), semi-public oral
2.3k words
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You never understood why people don't like fuck boys.
Okay, that's an overstatement. You do know why. They lie, they cheat, and they make pretty little promises in hopes of getting in your pants. They think with the head between their legs and drool at the sight of new pussy. Truly, they were just men who peaked in high school. 
They're pathetic, but easy.
A game is a game, and these types of men tend to forget it's multiplayer. All you have to do is act a little clueless, pretend to be happy to see them, and their absolute favorite, be innocent. Be the perfect little prey they think you are and they'll do anything for a chance. 
It really is easy. 
It's how you managed to snag a date with Wooyoung. He had been asking for weeks since the semester started. Walking you to class, to your car, seeming like a nice boy on the outside, but you know better. You've seen the subtle winks to his friends, the predatory gaze on your body. As much as you would have loved to give it up on the first day, you want to at least have some of a good time and not fucked like a fleshlight. 
You can still picture the grin on his face, the way the mole under his eye shifted with his smile. Well, you don't have to imagine it. He's giving you like sly look now, one hand on the wheel while he's turned to you. The car's been in park for a while. Wooyoung claimed he needed a minute to sit after a nice dinner. It's been way past a minute, however, and the conversation took a bit of a sexual turn.
"I dunno," you shyly rub your hands together. "I don't think I'll be any good."
Wooyoung is patient though, more than you would have thought. "That's okay. We don't even have to do anything. I would just love to keep hanging out with you." I would love to put my dick in your pussy, is what he's really saying, but at least he's being nice about it. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."
You nod, pretending to think about what you want to do. "It's just you're so nice and so good-looking. I don't want you to think anything bad of me." Wooyoung is already shaking his head before you can finish, "I would never think of you differently. If you're attracted to somebody, and they're attracted to you, there's nothing wrong with acting on it. But don't feel like you have to. I can talk with you just like this and feel just as happy."
Definitely a smooth talker. You can't help but think about how many hearts he's broken with those lies. "You promise?"
"Of course," but his fox smile gives it away. "You're cool. I haven't felt this comfortable on a date like this before." It's not a shock he's feeling that way. You've perfected your lines and your bashful looks to get him right where he is. The way your dress clings to your body only helps. It's short enough to imagine bending you over the hood of the car and low-cut enough for Wooyoung to keep glancing down at your chest. The dress isn't enough to scream slut! but enough for curious eyes to wander. 
"Thank you," you giggle. "I don't think anyone's told me that before." Your admission makes Wooyoung smile. A genuine look of satisfaction as if it's his heart that swells instead of his cock. He tilts his head to the side. A strand of hair falls over his forehead from the movement. He's cute, hot with his hair slicked back. It's easy to fall under his spell and if you're not careful, you might slip.
But you're well versed with men like him.
You let him lean close, you let his hand gently cup the side of your face. You're fully expecting teeth and tongue, but Wooyoung pauses just before your lips make contact. His dark eyes glance to yours, waiting. 
You nod.
The kiss is not what you were expecting from him. It's not hungry not is it demanding. It's gentle, it's sweet, and it's comfortable. You easily slide against his lips, your hand grabbing onto his wrist and bringing him closer. He tastes slightly like the meat he ordered earlier. It makes you smile into the kiss and you feel him smile back.
You're the one to pull away first. Your lips disconnect with a soft smack and you look into his eyes. "Was that okay?" His body slightly shivers, and he nods while chuckling. "Yes. That was better than okay." You laugh with him, noticing how his hand drops to the exposed part of your thigh to gently rub your skin. 
Only a second of silence passes before Wooyoung asks, "Can we do something a little more?" Then he quickly adds, "If not I totally understand." You have to bite back a smile, you've never met a fuckboy so honest yet deceiving at the same time.
"I dunno, Wooyoung," you play with his hand that's on your lap. "I think hookups are...unfair." This makes him raise an eyebrow, "Unfair? I don't think I've heard that one before. Can I ask why?"
"Like..." you pretend to think of your rehearsed words. "The girl doesn't really get to...finish. You know what I mean?" Judging from the shocked and slightly offended look on Wooyoung's face, you think you have him. "I'm not saying you can't, but I know it's a thing that guys have a hard time making the girl feel good."
Wooyoung is silent for a minute. You can't tell what he's thinking and you begin to think that maybe he took it personally. You're preparing for the worst when he lays his seat all the way down.
"What are doing?"
"Gonna prove you wrong," he simply says. "Come on, right here." Wooyoung points to his face, You narrow your eyes, unsure of what he's asking. "You want me to keep kissing you like that?"
"Nooo," he laughs and shakes his head. "Sit on it." You sputter a choked laugh. This wasn't quite what you had in mind. You thought he'd tell you that he was different, that he would flick your clit while bouncing you on his lap. Just some effort to make you cum, not have a face-sitting session. 
Not what you were expecting, but you're already eager to lift your dress. 
You play with the hem of your clothes, "Right now?" He nods, licking his lips. "Yep. It's already late and hardly anyone knows this place. I got tinted windows too. You don't have to worry too much, pretty." 
Shit, he's good. He took you to a low-key place, paid for dinner, kissed you almost passionately, and gave you an offer you couldn't refuse. Perhaps this mouse has more tricks than you bargained for.
"O-okay," you try to keep your innocent façade. "Just, let me know if you can't breathe." Wooyoung lets out a last laugh and helps you crawl to him. It's difficult to not step on his limbs, but you manage to hobble over his shoulders. One knee is bent on the headrest just next to his head. Your other knee is planted on the backseat, keeping you hovering above Wooyoung's face. You've perched your arms on the headrest of the back seat, facing the rear window and arching your back. 
It's not the most ideal position, but you have to give Wooyoung some credit. It's doable at the very least.
Wooyoung does the honor of keeping your dress lifted. His eyes lock at your clothed core, plain underwear with the only decoration being a small wet spot where your entrance is. 
"Someone got a little excited, huh?" He giggles at himself. "Do you care about your underwear getting a little more wet?"
And he's a tease? You think you're in over your head with this one. "It's okay." You feel Wooyoung nod under you and soon feel a hot muscle over your clit. 
Granted, it's not as hot compared to if he took your underwear off, but it still makes you jump. Wooyoung keeps his tongue flat while moving it in gentle circles. You rock your hips against his mouth, following his muscle.
You gasp at the feel of something hard. It takes a second for your brain to register his teeth running against your slit. Your underwear makes the perfect barrier for the sensation to be wonderfully strange. You let out a moan and grind on his face. His nose bumps the peak of your clit every time you move up and he seems to be completely okay being ambushed in your cunt.
"Mmf! Like it that much?" Wooyoung pulls away just enough to speak. You grind a little more before answering, "I dunno yet."
That spurs him on. Wooyoung bunches your dress in one fist and uses his free hand to move your underwear to the side. You can't tell, but he can see how messy your pussy is. Your clit is fat, wet with need, and begging for Wooyoung to directly touch it. It makes something in him primal, aching for your raw taste on his tastebuds. 
His tongue swipes over your cunt, letting your juices soak his muscle. You whine at the feeling of him and still your hips. Wooyoung's thumb hooks over your underwear so the rest of his fingers splay over your thigh. He squeezes and kneads your flesh, strangely adding to the pleasure of him tasting you.
The further he digs his digits, the more you moan. It's a trick you didn't even know existed and Wooyoung is using your surprise to his advantage. 
His kitten lick feels good alone, but your toes curl at the feeling of him sucking. Wooyoung has your nub in his mouth with his tongue rolling against it. You squeal and your hips buck so roughly that your pussy pops from his mouth with a wet sound.
"Damn," he sounds raspy. "Didn't think you'd have such a sensitive pussy." Wooyoung strains his neck to reach up, latching onto your cunt once more. You whimper and carefully place your weight back on, trying your best not to move this time.
"I just," you let out a moan when he sucks it again. "It's just been a while."
Which is a lie. Well, somewhat. You got eaten out not that long ago, but not this good. Not in a position where you could get caught, where he adds the tiniest bit of pain to add to the pleasure. Everything's an additional layer of arousal that you didn't think you needed. 
Wooyoung says something but it sounds like muffles in your cunt. You hone in on sliding against his face, making sure his nose and chin bump your clit with every drag. Maybe you're going a little crazy on your first date, but there's no guarantee you'll get another chance like this. You might as well use it to your advantage.
Your orgasm slowly builds. You can feel the heat in your stomach and chest, making you whine louder and higher. Wooyoung groans with you, gripping your waist and thigh harder as you suffocate him. You hang your head to look down at him, but all you can see is the top of his hair. Even if you can't see him devouring your cunt, the sight makes you clench. A reminder about how terribly empty you are.
As if knowing, Wooyoung dips his tongue until it catches your entrance. He buries it in you, uncaring how tight your pussy squeezes him and leaks. You whimper, unmoving so Wooyoung can thrust his tongue deep inside.
"Fuck. If you keep doing that I'll cum."
You nearly scream when he doesn't stop. He goes faster, so hard that you can hear the lewd noises vibrating in the car. He gulps down your essence, he moans into your pulsing cunt. Never have you met such an eager fuckboy. One who goes above and beyond without getting his dick wet once.
It's almost cute, but you don't dwell on it too much when you finally tip over. Your walls clench Wooyoung's tongue, creaming so much that it paints his lips white. He fucks you through it as he manages to slide his tongue out and across your clit. 
You rest your cheek against the cushion of the backseat. Normally, guys are eager to push you off and shove their dicks in, but not Wooyoung. He eats you steadily and overwhelmingly. You're the one prying yourself from his mouth, chuckling at his protests and pleas for you to take back your seat.
Your back aches from being arched and your legs scream as you wobbly sit back on the passenger side. Wooyoung shifts his seat up while swiping his lips with his thumb. He collects the last bits of cream and pops it back into his mouth. 
By far the weirdest fuckboy you've encountered, but you're not complaining. You got to cum good, got to ride out your high, and got a meal paid for. You're expecting him to ask for a blowjob, but he twists the keys into the ignition and it roars to life.
"Oh," you hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Wooyoung hears you. He turns his head to you, lips shining with your cum. "What? I'm taking you home right?"
You blink at him, completely thrown for a loop. It takes a few awkward seconds before you answer, "Yeah. Sounds good."
You're starting to think maybe he came his pants and is too shy to do anything else, but you catch the smirk as he turns back to the front windshield and puts the car in reverse. 
It then occurs to you that maybe you weren't the cat after all. 
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cinnasalmon · 3 days
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→ Zevlor NSFW Alphabet
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Various NSFW relationship headcanons, one letter at a time! Very long. Even longer than the SFW one. Sorry not sorry
SFW Alphabet here !
CAUTION: There is some dom/sub and kink talk. Nothing graphic, but JSYK.
→ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The doting just doesn't stop with this man. No matter how rough the sex was, how feral he was, how much of a different side of him he showed, he will revert back to his usual affectionate self.
He will make for damn sure his partner his taken care of before he even thinks of sleeping—no matter now tired he is. He cannot fully rest until his partner or lover is relaxed. Water, a bath, extra cushions, blankets, massaging oil, etc. at the ready. 
God forbid he does fall asleep before they do, the entire next day is dedicated entirely to them, 100%, even if they state several times they're fine and he's got nothing to worry about. Doesn't matter to him, in his mind he needs to make up for lack of being a good partner.
→ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His self-esteem has seen better days, so he probably doesn't have a favorite body part of his own. I think if he had to choose, maybe abs or legs: they gotta be toned as hell, even at his age. Good job, Zevlor. You earned it. 👏
Favorite body part of his partner's though? Is “everything” an answer? Body worship extraordinaire over here. Whatever body part his partner doesn't like of their own, he'll love on it extra. They don't even need to verbally state they're self-conscious about it; he takes notes, and he knows. Next time, he'll spend plenty of time leaving slow, loving kisses on it and caressing it with a heated touch.
→ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Oh lordy this man has a lot of cum. Hah, maybe not as much as someone like Halsin, but the longer he goes without cumming the more cum his loads will have, obviously. But even otherwise, I still think he's got a fair bit. 
His taste isn't too distinct; it's pretty run-of-the-mill. But he has quite a bit and it is thicky and sticky, so if his partner is one to swallow, get ready. And if they don't swallow, well get ready, too. He'll be cumming everywhere and if he cums on their face? They better have their eyes shut tight that's all I'm saying lmao
→ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
I've seen a couple of people mention a possible scent kink and I can't get it out of my mind. This man cannot get enough of his partner's smell; their pheromones drive him uh, fucking bonkers. Of course he enjoys it after a fresh wash, but when they're hot and sweaty? My goodness he's got a chub just from a whiff. And when their scent changes from becoming aroused? Insert boi-oing sound effect here ‘cause that's what's happening in them trousers.
Convince him to give some training, particularly outdoors for best effect, and watch as he becomes more… hands-on as time goes on. Wouldn't be hard to get him to tussle—a little play wrestling if you will—and he'll be tempted to fuck right there in the dirt. 
→ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
For sure knows what he's doing. He's got experience under his belt (hehe), it's just… been a while is all. 
Back in his heyday, Hellriders were the local authority and sought after as partners and lovers, so no shortage there. I'm not fixed on one set of headcanons for Zevlor's young soldier days, so whether he had a hoe phase or was committed to one partner the whole time, I do think he's had experience nonetheless. (However, I have been toying around the idea of a virgin/celibate Zevlor, but that's a whole other can of worms not particularly relevant right now)
Plus, he's a romantic, so even if he doesn't have much experience, his intuition and drive will translate well in the bedroom.
→ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
OH LORD. Anything where he can see their face. He likes seeing just how good he makes someone feel, just from his touch (and/or words 👀). It doesn't matter if he's dom or sub or top or bottom or what-the-fuck-ever—he gets so much pleasure from seeing his partner unravel. He's cum solely from getting his lovers off before, so that's nothing new, either.
Missionary is a given, but he also enjoys lotus. If he's riled up, mating press and the like is also on the menu. If he wants to show off his high strength and his partner fits the bill, he'll stand up, hold them by their ass, and bounce them on that thang. 
→ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I mean, he is pretty serious for the most part—he aims to please. But sometimes sex is weird! There's funny noises and cramps that happen sometimes. He's used to it, and he'll go with the flow. He just enjoys being intimate, no matter how awkward it can be. He may chuckle here and there, but he mainly feeds off of the energy of his lover. If they get embarrassed, he'll reassure them they shouldn't be ashamed of their own body and the weird noises it makes sometimes. 
And sometimes if a particularly contorting position spontaneously falls apart and they fall on top of each other, he'll make sure they're okay first and foremost, then have a laugh at the happenstance—it was worth a try!
→ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This is quite influenced by my own bias/preferences as I'm borderline turned off by body hair, so please proceed with caution knowing that lmao
I personally don't see him as a hairy guy like, hardly at all. He keeps his face shaved (and has fairly dark stubble when it starts growing back) but otherwise his body hair is very fine and sparse. Mainly arms, legs, some hairs on his chest, a semblance of a happy trail, and a light bush that doesn't really grow enough to warrant much maintenance. 
Color-wise, very close to his sandy locks, perhaps a shade or two darker.
→ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Oh. My. Lord. He is a king and expert on intimacy; as I've stated numerous times before this man craves connection above all else. He is focused entirely on his partner and their pleasure, created and caused by himself. Sure he likes the little bit of ego boost from seeing his partner through to their climax just from his touch, but what matters most is they're safe and comfortable enough to be in such a headspace with him. 
→ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
So, this really depends. Before Elturel fell, it wasn't too terribly often, maybe a couple of times a week. 
But I think after the exile, he'll be too stressed to take care of himself. Howeverrr… if he pines after and crushes on someone, he'll realize just how pent up he is. He'll still try to be a gentleman and not frantically get himself off to the thought of their naked body rubbing against his, but eventually he'll cave and have an immediate and immense sense of relief… and feel like a total pervert.
Being in an established relationship, he doesn't really feel the need unless he or his partner is away for a few days or more for whatever reason. He misses their companionship, so his hand will have to suffice until they can be together again.
→ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
The most obvious is breeding kink. This man has always wanted a family but never let himself have one due to the expectations and stress of being a Hellrider. But if his partner begs him to breed them, regardless if they can physically bear child or not, he's going to snap.
And like I mentioned before, scent kink. 
→ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Not into exhibitionism; he likes the intimacy of privacy. He doesn't have to worry about prying eyes or ears. So, anywhere that is secluded, ideally at home or a room at an inn, but if the situation calls for it, “secluded” is the keyword here 😉
→ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Ummmmmm anything his partner does (jk…ish). But for real, body worship, y'all: make him feel wanted, loved, noticed, etc. His self-image can be in the pits sometimes, so love on him plenty, dote on him often; show him he is worthy, he is enough, and let him steer the reins if he wants to take it further. 
If you want to go from 0 to 100, the base of his tail is extremely sensitive. He could be holding back with a steel resolve, but consider that the feral button. A gentle touch will become a pointy grip. A relieving sigh rolls into a hungry snarl. Godspeed.
And honest to god, I think he would probably get turned on if he saw his crush or partner do something heroic or good (without expecting anything in return). Killing some threatening hyenas or goblins, breaking up a fight… shit, even helping an old lady pick up her spilled groceries. Whatever they're doing, he's in pure awe, and will jump on those bones at the opportunity.
→ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
(CAUTION: degradation, pain, humilation, and mindbreak)
As a dom = degradation or pain kink is going to be very dicey. He's devastated just by seeing his partner hurt, but if it’s caused by him? Girl bye. Even times when he gets a little carried away and feral and draws some blood with his scratches or bites can wrack him with guilt, no matter how much his partner reassures him they enjoyed it both in the moment and afterwards. So anything beyond that would probably be a hard no from him, but he'll be willing to hear their reasoning behind it and see if a compromise can be reached.
As a sub = my first thought is humiliation kink like, bordering mindbreak. I think he can handle some embarrassment, but humiliation where it's teetering the edge of mindbreak would be a no-no zone. Obviously from the events of Act 2, he doesn't take well to any threats to his psyche, and I'd wager that would extend to kink as well. But he's got immense mental fortitude—so he can handle some heat, if you're picking up what I'm putting down. 
→ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
I'm a parrot when it comes to this but it's true—he is a man. of. service. And I'm not just talking in terms of a paladin.
He aims to please—especially his partner, like hello!!! Of course he loves receiving, but he wants to give more than he receives. That's his motto, baby. He gets pleasure from pleasing his partner, he could cum just from getting them off (and he has!)
And skill? Oh have no fear, he has experience, but it'll only take one, maybe two times before he knows his lover's sensitive points that sends shivers down their spine. He loves their taste, their arousal, just from his touch. He'll be an expert in his partner's body language in no time, he knows how to read them. They won't need to suggest or tell him to do anything.
→ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Oh oh oh he loves to go slow and sensual by far ! He wants to see every single thrust he makes unto his partner reveal on their face. 
And on the contrary, he loves it to be slow and sensual when he's on the receiving end, too. He wants to feel everything. 
Don't get me wrong, the also loves it rough both ways as well, but to feel the most connection with his lover/partner, slow and sensual is the way to go. Though sometimes he just wants to go hard and fast, feral as fuck, to breed and be bred. 
→ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
As stated before, he likes his lovemaking like one cooks a stew—low and slow. He prefers to take his time, but boy howdy it would be mighty difficult for him to decline a quickie. More than capable of achieving it, especially if he's been teased beforehand. That way, by the time the clothes come off, he's already hard, baby! 
The best quickies are when he and/or his partner have somewhere to be soon, but they neeeeed to get it out now; he looks so good; they can't stop thinking about it; etc. until they're basically blocking the front door. He may huff and puff but secretly, he likes the game 😉
→ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Very open-minded, willing to try just about anything once. His partner's pleasure is his priority, so if they're super into something or want to experiment, he's all for it.
Not much of a risk taker nowadays, unless he knows it'll pay off (or if he thinks it's worth it). Many, many moons ago he would've been riskier, and every so often that side of him will come back out should the stars align. 
→ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It depends. He's still got lots of endurance in him, but the whole ‘aging’ thing is creeping up on him. He can go a few rounds, but his refractory period is a bit longer now than it was 20+ years ago. 
But, get him riled up enough, and through sheer force of lust he might even be ready again before his partner is. 
He likes to cum at least once before stickin’ it in—giving or receiving—because he will last longer that way. Not that he would cum instantly, but it has happened before (cough the first time he and his partner had sex together cough)
→ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He may have a toy or two for penetrating himself, but largely he just gets himself off with his hand, especially after being exiled from Elturel. I don't think his toys were a priority to take with him. But hey, you never know. 
If his partner has a toy, he's willing to try it out if suggested to him, especially if the relationship is matured and could use some ‘newness’. He's very open-minded, especially if it's something his partner is already into.
→ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He isn't naturally a tease unless he gets riled up. Then at that point, it's payback, i.e. if his partner rubs their ass up against his groin in public, then best believe he'll be taking notes and um…. ‘review’ them later in the bedroom. 
It wouldn't be impossible for him to tease, though, he likes the cat-and-mouse game and likes to switch it up sometimes. His payback for teasing him earlier would probably be when his partner is tending to household chores. Especially something like cooking, where they can't just walk away from a roux they've spent the past 15 minutes continuously stirring.
→ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not very loud, but he does make more noise the more turned on and (at times) feral he is. If his lover is very vocal and loud, they won't hear him very well. 
Makes a lot of grunts, growls, anything guttural and throaty, really. Including—if the other party can get him to speak it—Infernal. He'll mutter some Infernal curses every so often, but to actually speak it? He has to be in a specific headspace.
→ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Following up from above, I like to headcanon the more Infernal he speaks, the more wild and unhinged he gets, and vice-versa. His “lizard brain” (fiendish brain?) tendencies come out and override his otherwise natural behaviors: goes hard and fast, chasing his own high, clawing, biting, tail thrashing around if it isn't already tightly coiled around a leg (or other body part 👀), etc. 
As a bonus I also have been thinking more of the headcanon that tieflings have succubus/incubus spittle (only when very aroused) and uh… yeah. Talk about a whole new layer of arousal and connection for our Hellrider. Hoo lordy /fans self
→ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's in fantastic shape. Being a military commander is one thing, but in a cavalry? Where one has to wield a weapon, shield, and/or flag while on horseback? Lord have mercy. He won't be ripped to shreds or jacked as hell, but his muscles are firm and well-toned. 
In addition, lots of scars. Even if much of the city guard stayed within city limits where crime was low and they didn't have to do much of anything, Zevlor always preferred to be out in Elturgard and fighting threats head-on. Because of this, he's got his fair share of past battles decorating his skin. 
→ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
So there's a whole lot of layers to that onion of a headcanon I don't want to get into here, but once he knows he has a partner or lover he can go to for sex, best believe he'll be taking them up on that. Pre- or post-exile, he'll have plenty of stress to let out. Sparring and training can only alleviate so much. 
But once he's in an established relationship, it's much more of a sharing-of-pleasure-and-uniting-as-one kind of thing. It means a lot to him to copulate with his partner. He strives for connection in all ways, and sex is certainly no exception.
→ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I am so sorry you have to hear it from me but at his age? He's falling asleep immediately. Once he's had his fill (hehe), it's lights out quicker than you can say “That was amazing.” But! The more he's turned on, he'll go for more rounds obviously. Though once he's at his limit? Good night, see you in the morning. 
———
If you made it this far congrats! Also I encourage you to fill out this alphabet too, for Zevlor or whoever!
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miyasturniolo · 5 hours
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CONCLUSIONS | matt sturniolo
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pairing: fwb!matt x f!reader
summary: where you’ve been hanging out with a guy but matt thought differently and thinks you are fucking another guy behind his back, which makes him jealous and mad.
warnings: smut, use of y/n, choking kink, hair pulling, rough sex, mention of blood, fingering, swearing, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, good girl), teasing, stalking, car sex, mattiude, violence, edging (y/n), unprotected sex.
a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. yahoo, long smut.
WORDS: 3.6k
miyasturniolo on wattpad
you - pink | matt - blue | guy - red
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For the past few days, you haven't been texting Matt that much due to you've been busy or hanging out with friends, especially one guy since you both seem to share similar interests.
However, Matt hasn't been pleased with the situation. He's been overthinking, worrying that you may be involved with someone else, even though you both agreed to be exclusive.
Despite Matt's attempts to reach out to you, you've been responding late, which is uncharacteristic of you. For an example, when he asked if you were in the mood to hang out or maybe add sex, you simply mentioned that you were with a friend without answering his further inquiries.
Feeling frustrated, Matt ended up stalking you today, as you had unknowingly left your location sharing on. This oversight delighted him, as he could track your movements.
At this moment, you are walking in the park with him, surrounded by long grass and flowers. "So, what would you like to do today? Or are you just in the mood to relax?" he asked.
"Not sure, what you in the mood for?" You answered, glancing at your shoes before looking at the blond haired guy. A sense of unease washed over you, but you chose not to act on it.
You received a message from Matt, but you decided not to read or respond to it as you were currently with someone else, and your friend was discussing a different topic which was how often you both been spending time together.
Matt parked his car and began searching for you, noticing you have ignored his message. However, he soon discovered you with another guy.
You had a feeling of being watched, but upon looking around, you saw nothing. Matt, on the other hand, was seething with anger, his knuckles turning white as he imagined violently confronting the blonde guy for being near you.
Misinterpreting the situation, Matt assumed you were fucking with another guy, even when you had an agreement with him. This misconception led him to question his own abilities and size, spiraling into self-doubt about his performance in the friends with benefits relationship.
He couldn't bear to watch the two of you any longer, so he ran towards you, trying to act casual, but his anger had crossed the line.
Matt pushed the guy, causing him to fall. You turned around, your eyes widening at the scene. Matt seemed to ignore you, focusing on the guy.
"Who do you think you are hanging out with y/n?" Matt kicked the guy as he tried to get up. You attempted to stop Matt, but he pushed you, not hard enough to make you fall.
"Do you seriously think you have a chance? Let me tell you, I satisfy her better than you." Matt said, unsure if that was true, considering you wouldn't be with the guy if Matt was good at it.
"What the fuck?!" Your friend exclaimed. You tried to intervene and eventually, Matt stopped, but he was determined to make the guy suffer. "You heard me," Matt spat.
He didn't look at you, feeling a mix of sadness and anger for your actions. He would address the situation with you later; for now his focus was on the guy.
"Matt, you don't know what you're saying," you said, but he just scoffed and snapped, "Right, I see how it is. Go to the next guy you see so he can mess you up!" Matt shouted at you before turning to your blonde haired friend who he thinks your fucking.
Your friend quickly punched Matt, causing him to stumble, but it only fueled his anger and pushed him away. "I've never done anything with her, but the way you're acting, I might just to show her how she should be treated!" the guy said to Matt.
You tried to restrain Matt once again, but it was too late. He punched the guy, making him fall to the ground and spit out a tiny bit of blood. "Matt!" you shouted loudly, embarrassed by his actions.
"You're the jerk here, and if I catch you with y/n again, you'll regret it and never see anyone again!" Matt scoffed before walking away, grabbing your hand harshly and not allowing you to say anything, not even an apology.
He led you to his car, and you didn't attempt to make him let go, knowing he would make it more difficult for you. He was fuming, and his ears were red.
He didn’t mean to lose his temper, but he was feeling a mix of anger and sadness upon discovering that you had been involved with someone else. “Why are you seeing someone else? What have I done to deserve this? I've focused on you, not even my own fucking brothers,” he shouted as he placed you in the passenger seat and closed the door firmly behind you.
As he settled into the driver's seat and slammed the door, he disregarded fastening his seatbelt. “Why you been avoiding me for that other guy?” he yelled at you.
“Matt, I haven't fucked him at all. I'm still keeping my promise with that,” You stated firmly then spoke again. “And I’ve been seeing him lately because..”but he simply shook his head and interrupted. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.
He glanced at you before starting to drive, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel so tightly. “Why am I driving you back to my place? Maybe you should go back to him since he seems like he fucks you better!” he shouted at you once more as he halted at a red light.
He felt a twinge of guilt, as he rarely resorted to anger or violence, but his emotions were running high. “I want you to get out of the car, but I care about you too much to do that.”
You both fell into a tense silence. His lips were chapped from biting them, reflecting his inner turmoil. He struggled to articulate his emotions, torn between anger and the urge to cry.
"Why did you have to do this, of all people?" he finally spoke, his words piercing your heart. You’ve tried to attempted by explaining, insisting that you hadn't been with another man and especially the blonde guy.
"Matt, you've misunderstood! I never slept with him," you pleaded, but he dismissed your words with a shake of his head, his voice rising in frustration. "You've been avoiding me, texting me late because you've been with him. Then I bet you, you message me after you fuck him or ignore me until you sleep afterwards you two fucked!" His voice cracked with emotion.
As the misunderstanding escalated, you sighed softly, feeling overwhelmed by the chaos. "Matt," you tried to reach out to him, placing your hand on his lap, inadvertently brushing against his groin. In response, he angrily slammed his hand on the wheel.
You glanced at Matt, sensing his anger towards you, and knew he wouldn't believe you. "Matthew," you whispered.
"Stop saying my name, maybe moan the other guy's name," he retorted as he drove faster. With one hand on the wheel, he pushed your hand away from him. He didn't want your touch, even though he was clearly upset.
He remained silent as you tried to explain, but he continued to ignore you. "Matt, I really mean it this time. I'm sorry I've been ignoring your messages. Sometimes I am genuinely busy, even when I'm not with him," you said.
He listened but stayed quiet for a moment before making a remark that made you frown. "And what about the times when you were with him?"
"Most of the time, I didn't see your messages until later. But there were instances where I ignored you because I was with him," you answered honestly. He chuckled and remarked, "Yeah, and that something is probably fucking him, I bet."
"Are you kidding me? How many times do I have to clarify that I didn't have sex with him? Secondly, he's-" You were about to finish your sentence, but he interrupted you.
"Come on, he likes you. You like him. What did I do for you to stop having sex with me and to stop liking me," Matt says as we were less than half an hour away from his house.
"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I only like you," you say, but he just shakes his head. "I'm not falling for your games anymore, y/n," he whispers, trying not to let out a small sob because he wants to believe you and doesn't want to think you're having relations with the blonde jerk, but he can't easily dismiss his suspicions.
He continues driving while you try to keep your composure. You take a risk by placing your hand on his lap again and rubbing it, but this time he doesn't move your hand away.
He simply ignores your touch, even though you're unaware that he's trying to maintain a tough facade because he's still upset and doesn't want to appear like he's already receptive to your touch.
He still drives fast, though not as fast as before. Your hand on his lap affected him in many ways: missing your touch, needing you, but ultimately suspecting that you've been touching the blonde-haired guy.
"y/n," his tone was soft but tinged with anger as he glanced at you. "Yeah?" you responded, meeting his gaze as he drove.
"I want to trust you, but it hurts that you've ignoring me for some guy you've never mentioned before. How long have you known each other? Actually, I don't want to know, it will just hurts me more," he admitted, his frustration evident. You reached out and rubbed his thigh once more in an attempt to reassure him.
"I'll take the blame for ignoring you, but I swear on my life, I haven't been intimate with him," you assured him. However, he just shrugged, unsure of what to believe. He wanted to trust you, but a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that you were more interested in the other guy. "Right..."
Without meeting his eyes, you shifted in the passenger seat and absentmindedly touched his bulge.
He took a deep breath, caught off guard. He glanced at you, then back at the road, realizing there was still a bit of driving left until you reached your destination.
"If you're implying I should have sex with you, I will instead discipline you until you're sore, as that's what you deserve right now. And trust me, it won't be pleasant," he stated, causing you to gaze at him in surprise.
Your eyes shifted from his face to his body, then back to his eyes. "Oh..." you whispered, completely shocked, while he remained quiet.
With one hand on the wheel, he reached for your hand and moved it away from him. "Be a good girl and remove the lower part of your clothes," he instructed.
Confused by his rapidly changing moods, you hesitated but eventually obeyed. As you took off your jeans and underwear, you were naked except for your shirt and bra. "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it," he remarked.
He placed his hands on your bare skin, feeling the softness of your thigh. Without hesitation, he moved closer towards your area.
Matt was focused on the road, but he was slightly distracted by the effect your touch was having on him, causing his arousal to increase.
"I'm going to drive you wild, making you beg for me to be inside you," he said confidently, his fingers exploring your soft skin, causing you to bite your lip.
He seemed to know all your sensitive spots as if he could read your mind without even looking at you. "Does he understand you like I do, does he know where you like to be touched?" he asked.
You shook your head, signaling a no, but then spoke since he was focused on driving. "He doesn't know anything..." you whispered.
He chuckled softly with a smirk, teasingly circling your clitoris, causing you to squirm. "Do you enjoy that, darling?" he asked, as you let out a quiet moan, confirming that you did.
Slowly, he inserted his middle finger inside you, the cool metal of a ring on his index finger brushing against your sensitive skin. "Matt..." you moaned, already craving more.
He glanced at you, then back at the road, aware that you desired more but intent on making you suffer, allowing you to regret sleeping with another man and not informing him.
"Such a slut," he murmured, slipping another finger inside you, thrusting them in and out before expertly stroking your G-spot.
"Do you like that, baby?" he inquired, picking up the pace. Skilled with his hands, he observed the way you arched your back out of the corner of his eye as he drove.
His fingers were already wet, yet you had not reached orgasm. "You've missed me, haven't you? I bet he hasn't been satisfying you properly, since you are so needy."
As he simultaneously rubbed your urethral opening and penetrated you, you experienced a heightened sense of pleasure. Your nipples grew hard beneath your bra and shirt as you released short breaths.
"That's it... Are you close?" he inquired, and you nodded, feeling your orgasm beginning to build, causing your legs to tremble slightly.
As you gripped his fingers tightly, he withdrew them from you, causing you to meet his gaze. He feigned indifference. "Matthew, I swear..." you muttered.
He quickly sucked on his fingers before resuming driving with both hands, leaving you in a state of distress because he had denied your release.
"It's what you deserve," he stated, but you found the closeness unbearable, prompting you to almost reach for yourself, only to be halted by him.
"If you even consider it, you'll regret it. I'll hurt you so badly that you won't be able to be touched," he threatened firmly, fixing his gaze on you before returning his attention to the road.
Reluctantly, you retracted your hands, trying to maintain composure despite feeling like a child having a tantrum. The gravity of his actions left you in disbelief.
Matt glanced at the road, biting his lip, before taking a wrong turn towards his house. He parked on a quiet street and motioned for you to go in the back seat. "Now," he commanded, determined to satisfy you without engaging in intercourse while his cock pulsed.
He climbed on top of you in the back seat, his gaze fixed on you. "Watch me make you forget about your other fling," he whispered.
Grasping your hair, he pulled it gently to expose your neck. He nibbled and then sucked on it, eliciting a moan from you.
His hard on pressed against your bare thigh, revealing his lingering anger but also desire for you.
Releasing your hair, he remarked, "I need to leave a mark on you so everyone knows who satisfies you," before removing his shirt, leaving him in shorts and boxers while you remained in a shirt and bra.
"I can't stand you. I hate that I still care about you after everything," he muttered, kissing your lips passionately. You responded in kind.
As he kissed you, his hand ventured between your legs, teasing you by circling your outer labia. "Oh god," you breathed into the kiss, causing him to smirk.
He gazed into your eyes, filled with the same lust that consumed him. His attention shifted to the smudged lipstick around your lips, a result of their passionate kisses. With a spare hand, he gently wiped away the lipstick.
A faint smile crossed his face as he looked at your shirt, before stopping his movements on your intimate area. He removed your shirt swiftly, followed by your bra, eager to reveal your bare boobs.
"I hate how much I love you, even though you're not truly mine...yet," he murmured, planting kisses and leaving a few love bites on your chest. Your response was a small moan, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair. He didn't need you to speak, as all he desired was mutual satisfaction.
The intensity of his desire overwhelmed him, yearning to be one with you. He reluctantly pulled away, admiring your breasts for a moment before removing his shorts and boxers.
“I bet you've missed good sex. I just know he had such a short dick that you didn't even feel him inside you. But don't worry, love. I'm here now," Matt said, stroking himself a bit, which made him leak pre-cum on your lower stomach.
"Please, Matt," you whined. You needed him so badly, but he wanted to tease you. "Be patient," he said, even though he couldn’t handle it anymore longer.
He slowly teased you by circling his tip on your inner thigh, making you moan and let out whimpers. Matt let out a few groans, loving your warmth.
"How badly do you need me, baby?" he mumbled, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft while teasing you. But he couldn't tease you for too long, or he would just cum without being inside you. "So bad," you whined.
His blue eyes were fixed on yours, but without warning, he stopped and slammed himself into you, making you moan loudly in pain and pleasure due to his size.
"Make a sound during the next few thrusts and I'll choke you," he says as he begins to move. However, you already slip up, letting out a moan with each thrust.
He grabs your neck and starts to choke you, meaning his words. He never intended for this to happen, but for some reason, he finds himself drawn to it, knowing he must be careful.
He continues to forcefully penetrate you, alternating between gentle and rough thrusts, causing you to release faint moans as he chokes you.
His cold hands wrap around your warm neck, now adorned with fresh hickeys, as he continues thrusting until he hits your sweet spot.
As your eyes roll back in pleasure, he releases your neck momentarily. "Don't disobey me, or you'll be punished," he warns, increasing his pace and intensifying your moans.
"Look at me! Tell me you would never let him fuck you again!" He tugs at your hair to make you face him, and despite never having been intimate with him, you say what he desires. "Good girl," he murmurs.
He released your hair and began thrusting harder, his eyes fixed on you, then on your breasts as they bounced with each motion. “You're so tight, fuck,” Matt groaned.
He pushed back his sweaty hair as your bodies clapped together with each thrust, the heat rising in his car causing the windows to fog up.
“You regret what you did?” He asked, you couldn’t speak since he was fucking you so hard so he just took it as a yes.
He kissed your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth, savoring the taste as he drove into you with an intensity that left you breathless.
As Matt's tongue and yours intertwined, he eventually pulled away, both of you gasping for air. “I'm close, I can't hold on much longer,” he whimpered, knowing he was on the brink of climaxing inside you.
Locking eyes with you, now lost in ecstasy, he smirked and thrust a few more times before bringing you to climax, sensing your release through the way you clung to him.
"Oh my, fuckkk" you moaned loudly, closing your eyes and slightly arching your back. He climaxed inside you, then lay on top of you, needing a moment to catch his breath just like you did.
Resting his head on your chest, your sweaty bodies touching, he asked, "Are you okay, love?" You replied to him while breathing heavily, "Yes, are you?"
He nodded, then playfully drew a little star on the window since it’s foggy before returning his gaze to you. "Do you mean it... you won't be with him again?" he inquired.
You looked at him, rubbing your eyes. "Can I tell you something? I've tried to share this with you many times, but you keep interrupting," you said. He simply nodded.
"I don't like him. I promise I only like you, and I know he doesn't like me," you asserted, but he just chuckled in jealousy. "He definitely likes you," he insisted.
"No, seriously, he doesn't. And how I know is because he's gay," you say, causing Matt to freeze before looking at you.
For a moment, he forgot everything after you revealed that. The blonde guy he had fought because he mistakenly thought you two were in a friends with benefits relationship was actually gay. "No, you're joking," Matt shook his head.
You simply stared at him, realizing he was no longer inside you. He retrieved tissues from his car, cleaned himself up, and then helped clean you, but you decided to speak up.
"I'm serious... he's gay. In fact, the reason we've been hanging out together is because he's interested in my friend," you explain. Matt just stared at you, realizing he needed to apologize or do something. "Shit," he muttered.
MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO
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middlingmay · 2 days
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Horse Trainer!Gale x Veteran!Bucky AU
Part one of my headcanons for this AU is here!
Some warnings to get us started: slight mention of alcohol abuse, references to gun violence, war, death, PTSD and a car accident.
Something bright and cheery for your Wednesday, eh? I promise it gets cute later down the line, just not today! Today we mean business. So here we go!
Bucky couldn’t remember wanting to be anything other than a pilot when he grew up.
His ma used to draw all kinds of aircraft: jets, airliners, gliders, helicopters, even a seaplane once. John would tuck himself into her side and watch, mouth open and fascinated as she drew smooth confident lines.
She explained to him why the nose was this shape, and how the wings and tail needed to be in balance, why the placement and size of the engines mattered. She went to school for it, before he and his sisters came along. Well, before his dad came along, really.
He didn’t take much of it in, he'd be ashamed to realise later, but he did absorb her obsession with aviation. Just not for the design. He would however, try to encourage her to go back to school to finish her degree.
Mama Egan took him to his first air show when he was eight, and she had to scruff him by the neck to stop him from taking off like a shot towards the real, live WWII B-17.
Instead, he thrashed at the end of her hand, jumping around like an eel as she walked him towards it anyway, and accepted the boost inside once his ma had convinced the pilot to let John take a peek inside.
He never looked back.
He enlists when he’s eighteen, and rockets up the ranks quickly. By the time he becomes Major - and a very young Major - the new recruits look at him like he’s some kind of maverick, some kind of legend.
The higher-ups see the natural born leader he is, and the boys in his squadron know him as brave, quick thinking, and with instincts that couldn’t have possibly all come from training. He could read situations in the air like most of them read books. When John Egan had a feeling, or ordered you to do something out of the blue, you did not ask questions.
Although he joined up out of pure enthusiasm and desperation to be a pilot, he quickly sees his time in the air force as an opportunity to help people. But, almost as quickly, he realises that he and the Brass have different views on how to go about that.
He dislikes combat missions the most. Sometimes it’s pretty black and white, and John can feel pride when he sees enemy targets crumble into dust. Or when he’s lost one of his men and he feels a thrum of vengeance he knows he shouldn’t and tries to suppress but sometimes can’t quite help on the darker nights.
But mostly he learns how devastating combat missions are. He much prefers supply drops and recovery missions, but these are so few and far between, that he gives up that privilege to those in his squadron to help keep up their morale. Their morale was his responsibility, after all.
John takes to drinking, just a little bit. Never enough to affect his work. But on days when he can’t shake the anger or the gloom, the glow of whisky helps him hide it better.
Somewhere along the line, his passion burns out and he starts to want out. He’s still one of their best pilots, still a role model for all the pilots, navigators and serving men and women on base - that is to stay, he still acts the part. He signs up for his second eight-year contract, but two years into it, he can’t stomach the thought of the remaining six.
He admits as much on a tearful phone call to his ma, who promises him he doesn’t owe anyone anything, and if he needs to he better get his ass into that doctor’s office or she’ll come and drag him by the ear and drop him at the counsellor’s door herself.
“Don’t you go doing anything stupid, now, John. I didn’t raise a fool.”
And John doesn't. Do anything stupid, that is. But someone does.
Because the mission fucks up, and fucks up in a big way.
It's a recovery mission his squadron all but forces him on, all of them insisting it's his turn, and what did he do to deserve those guys and dolls, huh?
But Ken hadn’t given him the run down of his plane, because he’s taken some PTO, and his replacement ground crew chief was nowhere to be found. And from then on, John just has a bad feeling about the whole thing.
Afterwards, he can't ever remember much, but what it boils down to is two bullets in his shoulder, a dead co-pilot, a murdered political attaché left behind on enemy ground, and a package, called Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal, safe back on American soil. And his superiors patting him on his good shoulder, telling him what a good job he did.
A good fucking job. Like some green kid hadn’t died choking on his own blood, staring at Bucky like he could do something. And a fella in his late 50s, who’d been harping on about his first grandkid, was never going to meet him because his body was never going to make it home.
So, when the doc tells him the physio isn’t working and his mobility is compromised, he barely feels a thing.
Major John Egan. Honourably discharged at twenty-eight.
He’s been warned he might feel a little lost at home. But no one warns him that he’ll mistake a framed photo of his old man as that dead attaché and it would start talking to him: “You left me behind. Who’s going to teach my grandkid ball, now?”
No one tells him he’ll scare the life out of his ma coming home from ladies' brunch, to see John, who’s been standing there God knows how long, still heaving in ragged breaths surrounded by smashed glass with blood running down the hand that holds a sizeable shard of it.
So he agrees to therapy.
It doesn’t go well. Crank sets him up with a friend of his experienced in medically discharged vets, but Bucky can’t disassociate them from the military. They get all mushed up as part of the problem in his head, so he stops going and avoids Cranks calls for a while.
And the dreams get worse. And the sleepwalking hits him like a freight train, although it only happens once. Once is enough.
He ends up on a back road. It’s the only reason, Bucky thinks, he didn’t die. He veers between the grassy verge and the road. It’s dark and he’s wearing all black, and the car doesn’t see him before it’s too late. They weren’t going too fast, but they clip him all the same and he wakes up in a hospital.
And the docs have evidently spoken to his ma, because whilst they’re treating his physical wounds, someone comes for a psyche eval and he gets a stern warning that either he gets proper counselling voluntarily, or he’ll legally be forced to. A much less pleasant experience.
And he meets the driver who clipped him. A shorter guy called Curt who walks in rubbing the back of his neck and not quite able to look John in the eye until he says, “Irish, huh? That how you didn’t hit the bullseye? Too short to see over the steering wheel?”
Curt cackles and the two of them talk easy after that.
In fact, John finds it easier to talk to Curt than anyone else since he left the air force. He tells Curt about the disillusionment of it all, the anger, the dreams, all of it. And Curt understands because he used to be in the medical corps and he knows there are things you can’t unsee. Some things a man just can’t reckon with himself.
But, Curt also tells him about the horse ranch he goes to, that helped him when no shrink or medication could.
Cleven Ranch he calls it, and tells John that when he’s up and ready, he’ll take him there.
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taardisblue · 2 years
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#google how do I say ‘yes I’ll get the file done however there will be a 30 min delay due to me needing to cry in the bathroom about it’#but like in a professional way#I’m so fucking tired god bless#seeing my actual career manager tomorrow and I’m supposed to tell her about workload overloads but lol#A. it’s not like she’ll actually let me back out of her perimeter#which arguably isn’t the busiest one but Is supposed to be secondary#B. I’m already getting tackled by my actual managers#about how I ‘really shouldn’t be taking on too much work’#like. fuckers. you’re the ones giving me the work I have to do.#’oh yeah just tell us what we can help you with’ my dude I don’t even understand enough what I’m doing to know what I need help with#and the stuff I do understand and could delegate is stuff You Don’t Know How To Do#and it’s just. the solicitous bullshit gets on my goddamn nerves bc.#YOU decided to assign me to the additional perimeter!! so now you don’t get to be mad when I have to spend hours on said additional topic!!#not how this works!!! and being all disapproving about me working too much is just the opposite of helping fuck you#fuck you fuck you fuck this fuck you#.txt#all that to say. no fucking clue what I’ll say tomorrow. bc I have had enough of being told off for shit that isn’t my fault#but I also have had enough of having to be like :) yes I definitely don’t mind that this ‘short rush period’ had been going on for 7 weeks#ok complaining window over back to (the useless utterly meaningless) work#yk at the old job there was always the silver lining of ‘I can quit! I can do something else!’#but now…. I Am at the ‘doing something else’ job. i got nothing else.#ok whatever I do need to get back to work bc I will Also be complained at if I send the file to the client at ‘an unreasonable hour’#like fuck you man if you’d paid for the actual staffing you needed you wouldn’t be getting emails at 10 pm#‘tell us if you’re having a hard time’ oh yeah that’s gonna go great. hi Simon I can’t industrialize the tooling this morning.#why? well you see getting up in the morning has become a struggle equal to what it was when I was actively suic*dal. hope this helps.#anyway did you want to review the slide drafts before the touch point?#yeah. that will go. really well. god. fuck this.
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aalgjfhdjkvghdkjgdhgjk i got blocked for my tags on the stede/iggy post WHOOPS
#mine#not gay pirates#i mean idc abt being blocked but i DO feel kinda bad for bothering op. SORRY MY B#genuinely didnt mean it as a personal attack or anything y'all can ship whatever u want however u want fuck if i care#but as a huge fan of Bitch Bonnet i just get. SO confused when ppl make him nice to izzy. not mad just confused#like if i shipped it i feel like stede's bitchiness would be a key feature of the dynamic. i dont Get why so many fans declaw him#baffled. and the fact that i see it So Much makes me all caps WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING levels of confused#but again. CONFUSED. i DONT rlly care lmao. hence why i dont have the tag blocked!#but i also DIDNT seek it out lmao i just went on the tumblr for u page on a whim. i literally never go there lol#and ive MADE my own post abt how confusing it is that so many fans make stede nice to izzy. ive made TWO posts abt it lol#i just saw that post right after work and was like 'THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE TO ME' but it's FINE y'all can do whatever u want!!#i guess i come off more aggressive than i mean to when communication is text-only. i should prooobably work on that lol#typing entire sentences in all caps means nothing to me she's like adding flavor adding passion.#im adding a dash of an intense emotion which does not necessarily have to be rage#in this case the emotion was baffled confusion at a phenomenon that doesnt make sense to me but is SO prevalent#and like. iiiidk i often dont realize how adding tags/comments on someone else's post can make them feel like im invading their space#which i should. start considering.#living and learning! anyway sorry to the op of that post i didnt mean to upset u. u are probably not reading this
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quecksilvereyes · 5 months
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oh my god do not click links in emails that tell you to verify your data or your bank account gets locked or click links in messages telling you your safety protocol is ending, like, tomorrow, you will get SCAMMED SO BAD AND YOU WILL LOSE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY never ever let anyone pressure you into giving away login information especially to your online banking by creating a sense of urgency oh my GOD
some things to look out for
1. spelling mistakes. do you know how many rounds of marketing and sales experts these things go through? if theres a spelling mistake dont click it
2. not using your name. if an email adresses you with "dear customer" or, even worse, a generic "ladies and gentlemen", it is most likely not actually targeted to you
3. verifying or login links. even IF your bank was stupid enough to send these to customers, dont EVER click those. look at me. they can legally argue that youve given your data away and thus they dont have to pay you anything back DONT CLICK THAT FUCKING LINK
4. creating a sense of urgency. do this or we lock your account next week. do this or your ebanking stops working tomorrow. give us all your money in cash or your beloved granddaughter will get HANGED FOR MURDERING BABIES. no serious organisation would ever do something like that over email or sms. ever. hands off.
5. ALWAYS CHECK WHO SENT YOU THE EMAIL. the display name and the email adress can vary a LOT. anyone can check the display name. look at the email adress. does it look weird? call the fucking place it says its from. you will likely hear a very weary sigh.
6. if its in a phonecall, scammers love preventing you from hanging up or talking to other people to have a little bit of a think about whats happening. there should always be a possibility to go hey i wanna think about this ill call back the official number thanks.
7. do not, i repeat, do NOT a) call a phone number flashing on your screen promising to rid your computer of viruses after clicking a dodgy link and b) let them install shit on your computer like. uh. idk. teamviewer.
7.i. TEAM VIEWER LETS PEOPLE USE YOUR COMPUTER HOWEVER THEY WANT AS LONG AS THEYRE CONNECTED. IF YOU DONT KNOW FOR FUCKING SURE YOURE TALKING TO ACTUAL TECH SUPPORT DONT GIVE ANYONE ACCESS TO YOUR COMPUTER.
fun little addendum: did you know a link can just automatically download shit? like. a virus? an app you can't uninstall unless you reset your entire device? dont click links unless youre extremely sure you know where they lead. hover your mouse over it and check the url.
thanks.
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atrwriting · 5 months
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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
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hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon
this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!
as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda
informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned
anyways… here is future problems:
he never wanted to get married.
he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.
despised them.
however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.
and it would be you.
he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.
it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.
he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.
however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.
at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.
but then… oh, then…
then he saw your smile.
oh, your smile.
your fucking smile.
the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.
no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.
no one.
when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.
and it was… until he was sick.
it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.
however, he did not expect one problem.
and that would be you.
he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.
he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?
so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.
just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.
he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —
but he couldn’t finish the thought.
because you walked in.
smelling like fucking lilacs.
lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.
however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.
he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.
“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”
“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”
you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.
he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.
“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”
you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”
you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”
you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.
he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.
however, he didn’t understand why.
he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?
he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.
and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.
however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?
his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.
he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.
he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!
he had to know. he had to.
to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.
as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.
"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."
you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"
"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."
you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?
"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."
why. why. why.
he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.
he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.
the act would drop. it always did.
the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.
and he fucking hated himself for it.
he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.
but you had kept reading for him.
he grew angry.
when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."
your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.
"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."
you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.
"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.
you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."
she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.
the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.
that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.
that would have to be righted immediately.
he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.
they always slip.
the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.
he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.
how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.
you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.
"good evening," you greeted.
"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.
"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.
he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"
your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."
you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."
you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."
he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"
your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”
your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?
so he went with what was natural: manipulation.
“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”
you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.
“what troubles you?” he asked.
your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.
“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”
“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”
there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.
“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”
your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.
“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”
“please,” he answered and nodded.
you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.
this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.
he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.
you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.
you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.
and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.
for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,
to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.
you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.
after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.
how had he not expected this?
his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.
he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.
he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.
he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.
good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.
he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.
so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.
he hated himself for the lilacs.
he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.
however, it didn’t.
all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.
she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.
he knew what he had to do.
he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.
he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.
he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.
you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”
“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.
“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”
you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.
“how do you like his new book?” you asked.
coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”
you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”
he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.
“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”
you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”
“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”
you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”
“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.
you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”
now was the time.
“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”
you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.
damn, he thought. didnt bite.
“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.
you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”
he nodded.
“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”
“i don’t understand.”
you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”
your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.
“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.
there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”
your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.
“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.
“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”
“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.
“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”
it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.
“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”
“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”
you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed
you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.
there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?
he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.
once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.
when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”
“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”
he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.
oh.
you invited him in to… to…
that he had not expected.
before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.
once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.
you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.
what was he to do?
he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.
the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.
would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?
you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.
he reasoned a reward was in order.
he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.
the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.
then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.
those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.
however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.
he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.
“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”
coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.
coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.
“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”
your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”
his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.
“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“
he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.
he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.
“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.
your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”
“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.
you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.
“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“
coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”
he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.
just this once, you both thought. just this once.
his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.
with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.
corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.
he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”
he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.
he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”
you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”
his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”
“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.
his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”
“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”
bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.
it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.
“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”
he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”
you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.
holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.
he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.
you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.
a low hum filled his chest.
you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.
that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.
maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.
you had to do something.
"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."
he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.
you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.
"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."
your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.
"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.
"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."
you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."
he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"
you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."
he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"
"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."
"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.
you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.
“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”
there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.
he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.
in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.
“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.
your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.
with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.
shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.
his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.
“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”
you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.
he cocked an eyebrow.
“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”
corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…
oh… you were done for.
one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.
the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.
“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”
his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.
“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”
“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”
“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”
“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.
the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —
“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”
tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —
“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“
there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.
“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”
“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”
you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.
it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.
tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.
his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.
“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.
“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”
you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“
“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.
you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“
he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.
“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”
you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”
he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”
you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."
you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”
“i promise,” you returned.
you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.
everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.
"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"
"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"
you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.
you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.
he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.
you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.
"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."
again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...
that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.
"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."
his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."
your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."
corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.
"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."
"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."
his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"
"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"
corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.
when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.
he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.
"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."
corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"
you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."
he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."
---
love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u
-L xooxoxooxox
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m-ayo-o · 2 months
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thinking of husband Kento who makes his wife cum from spanking <3
He started it as a punishment but when he realised how much his slutty little wife was loving this attention he started rubbing your pussy and spanking you simultaneously. It made for quite the head fuck, but when he bent you over his knee and you started squirming and creaming your panties he couldn't stop.. he just hand to make you cum right through them.
He saw a pool of slick building, making your panties stickier and wetter with every spank, so he just did it harder and harder till your little body started trembling, his handprints all over your ass, pussy messy and leaking.
"Aw, we're gonna have to find a different punishment now, sweetheart."
He coos between smacking you and sliding his fingers over the sodden pool in your panties.
"N-no-no--" you beg shamefully, but he's already made up his mind.
"Mm, you're soaked, princess..." he tuts and pulls at your pussy.
Ugh, what a mess you've made.
"But--b-but Ken- Kento~"
"Yes, honey?"
"mm-- m gunna... gunna.. uh---"
"I know, mm, just this once... I'll let you cum like this."
And he spanks and rubs you through it, getting you off with his hands, helping you ride it out by grabbing on your ass and grinding you over his thick fingers.
"You did it, sweetie," he coos and squeezes your cheeks, "came through your panties for me.."
And he swears if you didn't spill that coffee on his shirt earlier he'd be telling you how proud his is before ripping those panties open and licking you clean.
However, because you did make a mess on him before work, and because you are such a clumsy little slut, he decides to tie your wrists to the bedframe with his suit tie.
Before he strips.
Jacket off, braces off, shirt off...
He watches you drown in lust and squeeze your thighs at the sight of him, making him smirk.
"Calm down, sweetheart."
And he pulls down his pants and boxers, proceeding to tug himself off in front of you, deciding that this can be your new punishment until you somehow learn to cum to the sight of him alone.
He's sure if anyone could manage it, it would be you.
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kento
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tanaor · 3 months
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Want quick tips to add instant chemistry to the relationships of your characters??
(🥳With examples🥳)
First of all, I want to say that you can also use most of them for platonic/ non-romantic relationships, so feel free to use this tips however you think they might work better in your story. So, without further adue, let's get to the tips!!!
Make your characters LISTEN to each other. Like, if A tells B they're not a morning person, B could make some coffee for A or lower the volume of their alarm.
This might sound quite obvious, but show that you characters care for each other. It might be as simple as one of them giving the other a glass of water when they feel a little dizzy, but it works wonders!
Make your characters physically close. When you are emotionally close to someone, you tend to be physically close too. But here is the thing. Make your characters react like it's second nature: "how would I not hug B when I haven't seen them in days?" or "Of course I'm gonna take A's hand when I feel afraid".
They don't have to be constantly thinking about each other, but when they do, MAKE IT MATTER!! For example, character A is out shopping, and they see B's favorite cookies. B didn't have a good day, and A knows that. But A also knows B is gonna fucking love the cookies, so they buy some.
Let them believe and trust each other. Also applies if one of them is a little distrustful: let your characters rely on one another, even if at the start they aren't as comfortable doing it. For a distrustful character, letting the other one help with chores might be a HUGE thing.
Other tips for writers: previous | next
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visionsofmagic · 8 months
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◜ mk1 men breaking the bed/headboard while fucking you ◞
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▸ characters: bi-han, syzoth, liu kang, raiden, kuai liang, johnny cage, tomas◂ ▸wc: 4k+ [wow]
▸ tags¬es: REQUESTED by @luvv4lurd. drabble but long (like very long), fluff, nsfw, breaking, licking, ropes, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, humiliation, rudeness, rough, biting, power, begging, fingering, swearing, monster fucking (kind of), power play, pet names, calling god/goddess, possessiveness, protectiveness & more in the work, enjoy! [didn’t want to write this long & I am not sure whether @luvv4lurd wanted it to be this long but couldn’t hold myself, they’re so cute! hope all of you like it, have fun!]◂ ▸ m.
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BI-HAN doesn’t care about hurting you that much, yet, he gives you a safe word to make him stop when it is needed. clearly, he wants to fuck you well enough so that he can show you only he can fuck you like this. this goal of his brings him to an edge that he put your body down on the bed, ass up, cock thrusting deep inside your walls as your body jolts forward and backward in sync with his cock’s rhythm going in and out of your pussy full of cum - since you have cum like two times already.
he’s a bit rougher than he is usually because he heard a few other lin kuei’s members talking about you - how they are mesmerized by your presence whenever you come into view, however, they complained about how they can’t talk to you because you’re always with the grandmaster, sub-zero.
that moment, he decided to fuck you hard enough to make you have difficulties with walking, making everyone realize who fucked you - their grandmaster - they will know who you belong to and that was why he is rough right now.
you don’t complain though, well, until he makes you scream his title - “my - ohh - my grandmaster!” he loses his mind, releasing his power; hands get colder as ice appears on them from fingertips to the arm, and since his hands on the headboard, to hold it tight and fucking you with a great strength, it covers with ice, making the surface so easy to break into pieces and this is exactly what happens.
the headboard breaks into countless pieces, the room’s temperature going down in an instant, your eyes widen but bi han gains his mind’s control, hands turning to normal as they touch your waist, sending a chill down your spine with their coldness - bi han begins to fuck you harder as if it’s even possible, blaming you.
“see what you made me do whore? it’s only because of you! have to get a new one now, but you should pay for what you have caused pretty slut and you will pay by giving this beautiful wet pussy to me - to the rightful owner of it. will fuck you until you can’t walk for the next week, my dumb whore.” 
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SYZOTH tries his best not to use any of his strengths during the make-up sessions you share - getting intimate yet shy while doing it. he wants you to stay healthy even after the sex, only maybe some of the marks on your body that he likes to leave. however, sometimes you become a brat, acting naughty, trying to play with his nerves of pleasure and instincts enough to make him go rougher, and since he doesn’t want to hurt you, his hands find the sides of the bed while he’s fucking you with the position of missionary, green innocent eyes focusing on your face that full of cries, parted lips, half-closed eyes watching him with such delight he wants to prove himself further – wants to fuck you so good that your body cannot forget about it in the following days until the day he fucks you again.
and he loses himself when a hand grips him by the hair, pulling his face down at your level, ear to ear, you say in a whisper which is followed by a little moan afterward, “cmon pretty boy, I know you can do better than – ohhh – this!”
who is to decline your offer? who he is to hold himself still instead of fucking you harder – better?
syzoth whimpers at your words, he lets your legs hug his bare back, hands wrapping his neck as his hands begin to hold the surface of the bedsides tighter to find a balance after shoving his dick into your wider pussy rapidly than before, roughness and lust dripping from heart to body within actions.
“oohhh –“ he moans in sync with you, “tell me how good it is my love, please, please –“ he stops himself from crying by biting down your shoulder a few times, listening to your cries mixed with both pain and pleasure with full attention, and when you praise him, his edge comes, making him lose himself, and letting his nature form in some parts of his body; a tail appears on his back, it wags on its own – eyes turn darker green – and hands are covered with the skin of his true form, all green until it reaches to the arms.
all feelings double when his strength rises, weight becomes hard to endure, dick bigger – definitely rougher, going in and out of your aching yet wet pussy, and you reach climax at the same time – the exact time when a few crack sounds are heard, causing you to look into each other’s face – looking both excited and peaceful because of reaching the climax and shocked when the bed break into two, its middle swallows your bodies as syzoth hold you from the back from an instant, turn you around so that his back meets with the rigid surface of the floor under the bed.
hands on your back, hugging, turning into human form, and tail disappears as he looks at you with innocent and shy eyes as if you’re not lying down on the ground, inside a broken bed, cums still dripping.
“I’m so sorry y/n – but it – it was too much for me to handle. my love, how can I make you forgive me? I will do anything for you – just say it and I will show how sorry I am but please don’t judge me. I can’t hold my thoughts together when I have your pretty pussy.”
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LIU KANG can be the steadiest person – or a god but you don’t know any other god aside from him, but not in bed, no, never. he is that steady, straightforward, gentle, cute, and all these kinds of things under the lights of daylight, however, when it turns into a dark sky when you visit him in his room – or you in yours, exchanging a few words, questions only to begin to fuck after the formality.
it’s not that he uses you as his fucktoy – yes, it feels like it because it turns you on, but no, he’s in love with you – so deeply that he loses his mind whenever he sees you, and when it comes to getting intimate, oh, he forgets about the timeline he has created entirely, focusing on you – your pretty face he likes to watch, your magnificent body he finds as the most beautiful thing on all realms, your voice that comes into his ears as prays while you moan his name and even his title whenever you feel like it, and oh, your delicious pussy that neither his fingers, his tongue nor his dick will ever get bored of – it will be such disrespectful thing to be bored when you open your legs wider to him, showing your pink pussy that begs for his caring and affection – that he gives you what you want right away.
he’s a god, yes, but he can kneel in front of you if it is needed – to eat you out, or even to beg you.
on a night, when he lets you do whatever you wanna do with him, you chose to ride him in order to show him how you love his dick so much as he watched you from below, making you feel so powerful because of having the god of fire, liu kang, under you – moaning your name, eyes blurry, a bit of fire travels on his shoulder since he hasn’t logical side in the brain, no longer when you ride him so good – it feels as if you’re his goddess and you can’t deny that it doesn’t turn you on just by thinking about it.
smiling widely, you let yourself get the pleasure at the highest level, so, you throw your head back, and hands travel on your body from hair to shoulders, from breasts to abdomen, from there to your ass – literally exhibiting your own body to liu kang while bouncing on his lap – pussy clench around his length whenever you sit down only to rise up and repeat the action rapidly, riding him, fucking him.
and liu kang’s last logical side screams him not to hold you – because if he does it, he is sure he will break you into pieces. he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially when he witnesses the sight in front of him – breathtaking, making him lose the balance of his strength. instead of holding you, he grips the headboard behind him as he sits there, having you on his lap – watching you riding him beautifully.
then, you look down, and chuckle, “let your goddess take you to the stars, pretty boy.”
he never had this kind of situation with any other person, so, when you reflect his own words with yours – ‘let your god take you to the stars, pretty girl’ – he really sees stars, hands get tighter, and he breaks the bed with his power of strength and fire, moaning your name loudly, “aggh – y/n!” as he cums hard into your warm walls.
the moment he opens his eyes once again, he sees your smirking face first, one of your soft fingers travels on his cheek as you kneel down closer, “oh, couldn’t pretty boy resist it and cum in an instant?” you chuckle, mocking him, “where is the god of fire, huh? maybe, you should be the one who calls me goddess instead.”
he doesn’t waste a moment, holding you from the waist, he closes the gap between your bodies – nose to nose, white eyes devour yours only by looking at them intensely, and he smirks – darker than yours, radiating fire.
“darlin’, you are already my goddess but you need to learn who you belong to. don’t worry, the lesson you will have now will be enough to make you remember it to no longer forget about it. I will teach you personally while fucking you on this broken bed.”
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RAIDEN is a stranger to his own power that has been given by liu kang to fight with it to protect the earthrealm, however, now it sticks with raiden every second of the day and night, and he can’t leave it even while fucking you.
he says he should get used to it in every situation. he’s shy about it while saying it but you know that there are other reasons behind the desire to bring his lightning power into the bed ‘cause, that way, he can send a tickling jolt to your body – even to your pussy, making your pleasure rise up, wanting him to continue what he’s doing.
he knows you like it too – how he can’t anyway? you love seeing his eyes turning to light blue from time to time, love to let it flow through your skin, sending chills down your spine, getting you closer to the edge.
raiden discovers your kink contains electricity accidentally, and in a weird situation when he forgets to leave his amulet bonded to his hand while getting intimate with you.
he doesn’t realize holding it even when he goes hotter as he lowers down on your body, kissing every inch of you, reaching your exposed pussy soaking wet to the ground because of his gentle, slow yet effective approaches. he’s so gentle with you that he literally begs to taste your cum in his mouth.
letting him, you lean onto the headboard, wide open legs meeting with his soft-looking eyes, making him whimper at the sight.
you look so pretty that even after having your cum in his mouth, he can’t stop - he says he wants to thank you for letting him eat you out passionately by hovering over you, hands find the headboard behind you as he thrusts into your wet and fleshy pussy again and again with a pace driving you mad.
you scream how good he’s making you - to make it double, he uses some electricity that flows through your body without even noticing it, and the sudden sensation makes you clench around his length, swallowing it entirely, giving raiden a heart attack because of the pleasure he has never felt before, and it ends up with him using his strong muscles to hold himself in balance by gripping the headboard harder, making it crumble and break into pieces in a second.
to protect you from the falling pieces of it, he lowers down, covering your body within his but it makes all things go worse – or better as you say afterward; his cock reaches the end of your pussy, and it even becomes visible on your abdomen – and the scream, moans you made causing raiden to lose his mind – he begins to thrust into you, balls hitting your ass, forehead touches yours, eyes turn into light blue when you look at them.
“you have no idea how beautiful you look right now, my love. so – so beautiful. I am so sorry to break the bed but I can’t stop now. how can I? your pussy begs for me to continue fucking you. ohhh – it feels so good. I am offering myself to you as a forgiveness gift.”
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KUAI LIANG is a man who lives to give you, his beloved lover, what you deserve – the whole world, as he believes. loving doing the things you want, he’s no longer a gentleman in bed as the bond you share grows more powerful as well as the intimate sessions you have an increase in passion and trust.
he becomes rougher when you need him to be. being such a needy lover for him, you choose to trust him enough to let him have you in ways you can never imagine on your own because he looks fragile from the outside – he still is but not when you get into the bed after a long and exhausted day, ready to find your peaceful hours, inside each other’s arms which turns into a hot moment since you can never resist the urge of getting closer – he turns into a beast, you can see the sparkes he has inside his eyes – reflection of the fire he has within his soul and body.
on one of the nights you become lustful for each other, kuai has you on your knees, ass up in the air, and your second cum’s juice flows through his thick warm cock onto your inner thighs and ass, however, he can’t focus on the mess you’re making because all his attention is on your wrists which are roped with his kusarigama – it has no kama yet the coldness of metal chains around your wrists are enough to send you chills since kuai’s entire body radiates warmness.
holding your wrist, he increases the pleasure you are getting from the way he fucks you into the mattress, moans coming from you mixing with the swears and praises he says between his rapid breaths, dripping sweats and moans – only you can make him so weak, so fragile yet powerful at the same time – it causes him to try to prove himself to you in a greater way that you can never forget about it, that your body screams his markings.
the sound that is created by the lewd sounds of his thrusts hitting your soaked clit build twist feelings inside your stomach that is pushed down onto the bed as his left hand holds the wrists that have chained while the free one is put on the headboard’s edge, holding it tightly because he needs to find a source of stability to stay still but it doesn’t work – not when he finds this new angle amusing, begins to shove his dick into your warm walls faster, then, when his climax hit, the solid tool cracks – collapsing.
when he comes to his senses, getting off his high, he realizes what he has made.
he looks a bit guilty, eyes finding yours, his face has an expression of a man who seeks forgiveness yet he seems to enjoy it, and he smiles when you chuckle, joking about how he can easily turn into a madman only because of having you like this.
as he agrees, he caresses your hair, hands playing with the chain to open it. he turns your body over, hugging you from the shoulder, he still doesn’t take his dick off of you.
“’m so sorry honey, didn’t mean to break the bed but weren’t it the head of the bed, I would break you – was so good – you feel so good. fixing it will be the first duty for me after I get more of you – can I? please say that I can because I need you – one more baby, please, give me one more. promise I will be more cautious with our surroundings. don’t want to get you hurt. you will only get pleasure until we’re done, my love.”
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JOHNNY CAGE can be the most reckless fucker in the whole timeline. interested in you only, he loses the last logical side of his brain – if he has any when he has you in different situations yet each one of them is as effective as the others.
being energetic, having almost superhuman strength, and going wild in sex, he is sure unreliable while fucking. creating a sense of fear with excitement in your abdomen, ideas rush into your mind as you think about what he will do differently this time in every intimate moment. his uniqueness can be pointed out even while fucking you or letting you fuck him.
he’s also loud, talkative, preferring to let you know that you feel wonderful, perfectly taking his dick – or him, entirely, destroying his mind because of the beauty you have as lust cages him like a chain.
he seems like a madman too with his mind full of thoughts about how he can turn the sex you have into something more bustling, catchy, and entertaining for the two of you, maybe a little more for you ‘cause he prefers to be an unforgettable lover. he addresses you as his queen, and he is determined to prove himself right by treating you as one.
to do this, he tries to get his ideas turn into realities while fucking you.
not caring about your surroundings, not thinking consequences of being unconcerned, not realizing what he has done until his highness’ effects of being pussy drunk decrease. the reality hit his face when he saw the world around him, you still under him, mind dizzy, mouth dry because of moaning non-stop, eyes half-closed as you looked up at his face, cries cleaning your heated face.
the bed, worth a million dollars he chose to fuck you onto, now has a broken headboard – the pieces falling onto the floor and the bed’s soft white fabric. the memories of the moment before rushes into his mind as he looks at the broken material inside his fisted hands; he understands that he is the one that caused this. he fucked your wide-open pussy so mindlessly that when he gripped the head to find something to hold on to, he broke it without realizing it. 
as you still soak wet with your cum, and his own getting out of you, he jokes about the situation; chuckling while pointing out the power he has enough to break the bed’s head in one movement, showing it to you with such proudness you roll your eyes – this time not because of his dick, but because of his silliness.
he puts his hands on your sides, smirking down at you, winking, and having no shyness about breaking the bed.
“oh princess, it was worth a million dollars but doesn’t matter. you are worth more than anything in entire timelines. to have your pussy, I can break all of ‘em pretty. but can we appreciate how strong I am? ‘is all because of how good you’re makin’ me feel – ohh, pretty lady, making my mind go crazy like that – ‘is because of you that I broke it, but, what about we break the couch too? wanna do it – wanna break it too while eating you out. c'mon princess, gotta fuck you in every piece of furniture in this house.”
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TOMAS is not like his brothers – he is not like the rest of the men at all. he’s a lover who puts your well-being before anyone else, including his desires, and passionate when it comes to that decision in times he has you inside his arms, standing naked from head to toe, giving yourself completely to the man you trust the most, you love the most.
his fragile manner doesn’t let him go hard on you even if you want him to do so. afraid of hurting you even a little bit prevents him from becoming rougher and harsh to you. he listens to all your pleases, begging him to fuck you harder, wanting him to believe he can never harm you, yet, he chooses to stay still even when you act so bratty, trying to get into his nerves, making him let it go.
tomas, being a cute shy boyfriend, delicate when the matter is you, stays determined for a long time ‘'til the day you plan everything out and make him lose his gentle manner, causing the loss’s emptiness to be completed with the new one – greed.
the greed he has for you builds up from his deep soul to show itself through his actions after he sees you sitting on the bed, on your knees, the dress you wear is thin and represents the color of tomas’ armor, the delightful body underneath it is visible to his widened eyes, looking innocently yet devilishly to his eyes, smiling widely as you rise your hand for him to hold and get into the bed with you.
who he is to resist? his determination is not that great – and both of you realize it when tomas gets into the bed, a moment later, when his cock meets with your already soaked and prepared pussy after he fingers you, he feels warmness, fire building within his body, making him want to devour you, unlike the times you had before, he’s a bit dizzy now.
he moans your name over and over again, lips curl only to moan, whimper, and beg for more. you let him though, saying he can get what he needs – you say he can use your body for his pleasure, and when he finally admits it feels euphoric to go rough on you, moans coming out of your pretty pink lips like a melody to his ears, encouraging him further.
he grips you from the waist while fucking you; he uses your body as he pleases, moving your body front to back, his thrusts meet with your walls in mid-air, earning rhythmic moans from both of you.
throwing his head back, he decides to hold the bed under your body because he realizes the red marks on your waist due to the grip he has on there. when his hands reach for the mattress, he grips the white covers strongly, hands turn into fists, and those fists hit the bed’s rigid surface – the bed breaks into two the moment he cum carelessly into you after you praise him, call him your good boy.
he swears for the first time, eyes closed shut, his cum meets with yours, forehead connects with your chest as you hug him from the shoulders.
breathing deeply into your breasts, warmness flows from his breaths to your exposed skin, smoke appearing on the curves of his body slowly, and you feel his tears because of both pleasure he has felt and quilt coming from breaking the bed, making your bodies go lower a little bit.
“oh, I’m so sorry, so so sorry, didn’t mean to – I – I just want to prove myself and get lost when you moan my name like that, calling me your good – ohh – boy. ‘m so sorry my goddess, please, forgive me. wanna say it will not repeated but I can’t – it felt so good that I wanna do it again – right now. my love, would you let me do it again? say yes, and I will be a very very good boy for you – only for my goddess.”
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what a journey of rut! here's a cake for you because you deserve it after reading this, bearing it with me! 🍰
❤️ tagging: @lookingforgoodthings , @snowprincesa1 [taglist]
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kyunzin · 4 months
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𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
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character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
@tyunixia @riowmie
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onlyswan · 7 months
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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k
content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺
> in which masterlist!
note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺
jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.
tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.
and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.
you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.
you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.
“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”
jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.
“____, baby!”
upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.
“jungkook!”
you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.
“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.
“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”
the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.
he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?
“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”
“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”
he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.
“yeah, of course i am,”
jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.
“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”
he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”
“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”
“oh, okay. have a nice night!”
“you too,”
he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.
his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.
is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.
he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.
“who was that?”
“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”
he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.
what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.
“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.
an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.
“makes me nervous,”
his dominant hand closes into a fist.
if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.
“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”
you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.
out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.
“i missed you!”
“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.
“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”
“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.
“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”
“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”
the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.
unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.
you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.
“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”
“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”
something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.
“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.
he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.
as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.
you mistake his silence for something else.
you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”
he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”
you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.
he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.
isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.
three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.
he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.
and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.
much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.
jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.
maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.
“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.
what the fuck. too bright.
“me too…”
“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.
his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.
“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”
“whatever i want?”
he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”
he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.
“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.
“i thought you already had something in mind?”
“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.
you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.
jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”
“i’m okay,”
“you sure?”
“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.
he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.
the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.
he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.
be careful of what you wish for, they said.
jungkook should know better by now.
“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.
he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.
you’re so pretty. everywhere.
even when naked and bare.
no, especially. it’s all he can think about.
he can draw you from memory.
“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.
the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.
“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”
your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.
a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.
“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”
his warning is cut short by-
“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.
okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.
you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.
and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.
“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”
he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.
while he’s driving? really?
doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?
you are not real.
“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”
he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.
“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”
wrong move.
the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.
jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.
also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.
you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.
“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”
“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”
“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”
“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”
“what do you mean?” you exclaim.
you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.
“jungkook, i hate you!”
“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”
“and there’s not one in your wallet?”
“babe, are you serious?!”
“what?!”
somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.
but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.
“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.
he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”
“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”
“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”
“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”
the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.
he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“baby, stop being stu-”
he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.
“…bborn…”
he blinks.
he inhales. he exhales.
and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.
“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”
jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.
his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.
there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.
except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.
he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.
“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”
“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”
his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.
you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.
he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”
you shake your head to answer his question.
“then how are you already eating?”
you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.
“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”
“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.
he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.
you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.
“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”
you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”
“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.
“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.
“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”
the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.
you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.
“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”
“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”
his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.
“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”
“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”
“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.
“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”
“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”
he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.
“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”
you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”
“you promise me?”
“i promise!”
he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”
“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.
comfortable silence follows suit.
the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.
he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.
“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”
“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”
“just trust me, alright?”
you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.
“can i make a guess?”
“nope!”
you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.
“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”
you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.
jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.
“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”
“i’m planning on it.”
his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.
he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”
“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”
“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.
a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.
“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”
“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”
oh my fucking god.
he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.
“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”
“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”
your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.
“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”
“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”
“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”
his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.
“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”
jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.
you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.
how did he get so lucky?
rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.
you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.
“what are we doing here?”
jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”
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chrollohearttags · 2 months
Text
good girls finish last • e. jaeger
your best friend was always adamant that he’d have you and he follows through on it in a huge way.
word count: 2.3K
black fem!reader, heavy dom!eren (he’s yandere if you squint), PWOP, overstimulation, back licking, squirting, reader calls him daddy, calls reader princess, growling/marking, orgasm denial. he speaks German/Italian, many other themes I don’t feel like listing
in case you all were wondering what inspired this: enjoy! 🫶🏾
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“Mmmm!…please..”
“Shhh, keep your voice down, baby. I won’t say it again..”
the deep vibrato rang out in your ear in almost a growl like tone..his voice tantalizing and almost honey like as it deeper into your brain. He was trouble..that you had always known since the day you met him. Your best friend of several years, even when everyone else told you otherwise. However, that was of no consequence. Especially when you were certain that he was the only man for you. Someone who saw your flaws as perfections, who thought the world of you even when you seemed insignificant. It was more than what could be said of the man who had you before..hence why he was now there to pick up the pieces.
“..don’t talk, just breathe..that’s all you need to do right now. Just focus on my voice..” the command simultaneous with the sounds and sensation of his thick, warm fingertips fluidly moving in and out of your warmth. Your slick building up on the hilt of his knuckles as he flexed his wrist. His tattooed digits and arm were already decorated in the remnants of your previous orgasms and he was looking to add more to the collection. “I—I just..this isn’t right..we shouldn’t be doing this.” A statement only followed by that same maniacal laughter you had heard many times before and a soft clutch around your throat. “And why is that? Hmm..scared that he’s gonna walk in here? Good, let him see what a real man is supposed to do.” Even so, your chest couldn’t help but to heave with every delicate, calculated movement he made. Working your cunt over with the most intricate of strokes. He occasionally uses his free hand to squeeze your throat or grope your tits that were pulled from your tank top. That thong dangling at your ankles and your plaid skirt flipped up to expose your lower half..he was enjoying this! All of it far more than he should’ve but he couldn’t help himself, really. Eren had been in love with you since the two of you first became acquainted. Those beautiful lips, those thighs and pretty dark skin he found so perfect..the best part was? It was all his!…regardless of how many losers you allowed into your life. You were his lady, forever and always. And he’d make certain that everyone knew it. Removing that hand from your throat, he’d quickly replace it with a trail of gentle kisses. As well as the slight drudge of his teeth up the sensitive skin.
“Don’t you get it? We were always supposed to be together. Just me and you against the world, princess. That’s what you told me, right?” Your answer seemingly coming a moment too late for him, as he snatched your head around to meet his gaze. “Right?!” “Ah!—yes! Yes, daddy..” the name inciting more of a fire in him than before. Truth be told, he knew you liked it. You loved it, in fact. That much apparent by the subtle smirk on your face. “Look at you fucking smiling..admit it, mama. You never loved him. You were only pretending. You always were such a people pleaser..my good girl.” His voice dropped even lower as his fingers elevated to your g-spot once more. Pressing on the fleshy pad and making you writhe in his grasp. You were as good as stuck..you wouldn’t leave this spot. This bed where you and your ex had consummated your relationship several times. And not once did it ever bring you the thrill and rush that fucking Eren did. The way he spoke to you, held you close and made you feel as if he existed solely for you.
“But that’s why I’m here…you don’t have to appease anyone. You can be selfish with me, baby. Give in to what you really want…so tell me..what is that? Tell me what you want me to do…” all the while, his movements became sped up and you were clawing at his tattooed forearm; mere seconds from climaxing whilst he coaxed you through it. “C’mon, closed mouths don’t get fed, princess. Talk to me..” just as smooth as ever and devilish as well. He always had such a way with words and knew exactly how to articulate them to get his wishes. Maybe that’s why so many people despised the cocky brunette. Because he was the total package, head to toe. But an asshole to his core. Still, that didn’t mean shit to him..or you! Through your lens, he was picture perfect and nothing could change that. Working those digits in and out, you’d finally screech and yelp, unable to keep your voice lowered and in response, all he could do was laugh. Knowing that you were trying so hard to spare the feelings of someone you shouldn’t have. You’d quickly cup your hand over your mouth but to no avail.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t want your ‘man’ to hear us? Hear me playing with this lil’ pussy? Afraid it might break his little heart? You’re so considerate..” sarcastically stroking the side of your face with a lilt in his tone. But there was simply no need for you to be so courteous. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. He’s with another bitch right now. Somewhere laid up with a girl who couldn’t even think of competing with you. So why hold back, baby? Why are you trying to fight what’s meant to be for his sake?”
in a moment of haste, Eren retracted his fingers and used them momentarily to pacify your cries. He’d work them in between your jaws and meanwhile, usher you onto all fours. Prompting you to arch your back. Just as quickly, he’d tug those sweatpants down and remove his shirt in the process. He could feel you teeming right on the edge of climatic bliss but he was selfish. He needed to reach that point with you…to feel every bit and part of you as you made it to that point. Once he freed his stiff cock from those boxers, he’d align himself with your slit and immediately begin slapping it against your folds. Leaning down, he’d lace your shoulder blades with those same markings on your neck; biting gently into your flesh like a predator claiming its sweet little prey. Grunting and moaning into your ear how gorgeous you were and how he couldn’t wait to beat your pussy up. You were so delicate, soft and pretty. But he couldn’t help but to defile you..to make you a product of his sick perversions. He’d dreamed of the nights that he could pound this little pussy into oblivion. Making you cream on his shaft until you left him an utter mess..going deep until he forced you to squirt all over him and then shortly after, breed you so that he was with you in more ways than one. Having vivid daydreams of your belly swollen with his kid..it was the ultimate sign of possession!
“Fuck me, Eren! I can’t take it…” “..now where’s those manners you love so much? Say please..” there was that slick mouth. You always loved it when you weren’t the one on the receiving end but seeing as you were about to combust, you were feeding into it. “Please, daddy. I need it so bad..need you to make me come, right now..”
grasping at the sheets beneath you, you’d feel a sharp sting when his palm collided with your asscheek before those same fingers laced your throat. Eren never did like being told what to do but for you?…he could possibly overlook it.
“Shhhh! pazienza, amore mio..” pushing a finger to your lips.
the switch in dialect sending a pang to your stomach. You were always so fond of the fact that he was trilingual, being the son of immigrants. He’d tested it out on you earlier in the night as his tongue drudged between your folds and lapped at your clit. He’d begin complimenting your flavor and scent in his native languages; letting the words ooze like honey.
“We’ll get there when I say so..” suddenly, you’d feel yourself become full as he impaled you on his cock. Shoving that girthy, long member into that swollen heat. It was no time before you acclimated, despite his massive size. It was almost as if you designed just for him. “Ahh…so fucking tight. Just like old times..when you’d sneak out of class or practice, just to come fuck me. Ooh..that pussy felt so good..” Referring to your high school days when you were just alike. Delinquents and deviants only caring about each other. Fast forward and you were trying to get your act together. In college, new job, and supposedly a new man. However, old habits die hard and he was a hell of a one to crack. “You used to be such a slut f’r me. Let’s see if you still have it in you..” mocking whilst he smacked your ass repeatedly, telling you to meet his thrusts. The collision of that plump backside driving him crazy, especially when you reached back voluntarily and spread yourself open; glancing back with a smirk on your face. “Mmm..like that?” “Fuuuck..yeah, there’s my nasty lil’ bitch. Here..open up.” In one fell swoop, Eren tugged your head back and your jaw would fall slack; opening your enough for him to fill it with spit which made you giggle in return.
“Mmm, thank you, daddy..” he couldn’t help but to twitch each time you uttered the moniker. It always did sound so much sexier when you said. “You’re so welcome, princess..thank you for being so patient. I know you wanna come so bad. I want you to..” as he persisted with his speech, his strokes became a bit more sped up. The sounds of clapping flesh growing louder as well as your moans.
“ ‘Rennn…oh my God..” “..that’s right, baby. Pray to me, worship this fucking dick like you used to.” Commanding that you take it. Tightening his grip on the back of your neck, he’d force (y/n) face down, flat on the mattress in a prone position. Now, he could go as fast as he pleased without you faltering. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. The fuck were you thinking give my pussy to these fuck ass little boys? Are you crazy?” Seemingly switching his demeanor midway. That side of him always did scare you. But he’d never even so much as entertain the thought of hurting his princess. The only pain he wanted to cause you was consensual and pleasure filled. The kind you’d beg for.
“Nnngh, I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m so fucking sorry..” your voice high pitched and wailing as he pounded you mercilessly. You couldn’t take another minute of this. Your bladder felt as if it were going up burst, your eyes rolling back and tears staining your cheek. But he was inconsolable, thinking about another man in this bed with you. Being inside of you without a clue of how to make you happy. That was his job and his alone.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…don’t cry. I’m not mad at you..I’m just so disappointed that you’d settle like this..” breaking into yet another chuckle whilst his strokes became sporadic. “Please!..I’m so close..” “I know, I know you are..” leaning down to mark your spine with kisses as he lifted you back up and to also rattle off in your ear. “..so let’s get you there, pretty girl..” just then, those strokes would reach maximum speed and you’d find yourself trying to brace but you were coming undone! You could barely keep a grasp on those sheets and he was drilling you like no one’s business. Tugging you back to his chest with that same grasp on your throat, Eren kept talking; coaching you through your orgasm. Telling you when you squeeze and hold your muscles. To not release until he gave you explicit permission. Meanwhile, he’d stroke your clit repeatedly until you were nearly convulsing, trying to hold back. You had always trusted him but this teasing was too much to bear. You had to let go right now! And luckily, he wouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer
“Come for me, princess! Come for me..squirt on my dick! Spritz auf meinen Schwanz..” repeating the phrase a couple times more with a heavy growl and with that accent peeking through, you’d fall apart right there in his grasp, releasing a puddle onto his cock and the linen. You were finished; completely spent and on the brink of collapse. But he was quick to hold you in place and steal one last peck from those pretty lips.
“I love you..I love you so fucking much..you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me again..” his voice faint through his seemingly overwhelming amounts of emotions. He was so happy that you were back where you belonged. In his arms, in his life. Maybe being a goody two shoes got you nowhere and you’d gotten your heart broken trying to do the right thing…
“I love you more, baby..I’m right here..”
and hell, maybe good girls did finish last but if this was what was waiting at the end of the line?
“I’ll never leave you again, Eren. I promise.”
you’d fall behind every time!
@dancingwithdeities @iadoreprettygirls @arminsbbymami
@shamelesshoefairy @chiquititaosita @greenieweeniesworld @ichigosluvrr @thickbihhwitdagapp
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
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Okay this is an idea I’ve had for a while but imagine Miguel hasn’t had time to fuck his s/o due to spider duties and Alchemax shenanigans. And they’re soooooo fucking horny typically they come to Miggy whenever they have this problem but they don’t want to bother him so they bring out some old tools. Their vibrators from before they started dating. Miguel comes home however right during the middle of you using one of them and he’s soooo mad cause he wants to fuck you. I’ll leave the rest of the fic up to you. 💋 Love you so much!!
You Set My Soul Alight
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel is always busy and leaving you in a mess. But you feel bad bothering him so you look for your past methods to get off.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Supermassive Black Hole” by The Muse. Apologies this took a while.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pet names (Mi amor, cariño) cock blocking, female masturbation, biting, blood, restraints, begging, choking, slightly mean Miguel…
Want more Miguel Content, check out my Masterlist!!
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“Miguel.” You moaned out and pushed up against the kitchen counter.
You felt one hand slip under your shirt and, the other went down to your pants, tugging them down.
“Yes, mi amor?” Miguel whispered in your ear, “Use your words.”
“Please… Hurry.” You whined.
His body was up against you. His fingers lightly graze your skin in fear but still were attentive as possible. But you jolted when you felt a finger push inside you.
“Slow.” He murmured, “Slow.”
You continue to whine and moan as his finger moves in and out, then a second finger was added.
“Migu-!” His hand that was previously toying with your skin was now clammed over your mouth.
“So impatient.” He chuckled, “I ought to-“
His phone rings loudly and he curses rather loudly. Marching over it and answering it, talking to whoever was on the other side. But by the looks and sound, it wasn’t good news.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I have to head back to the office.” Miguel tells you.
“Go back? But you just got home a couple of hours ago.” You questioned.
“Well, they let the intern do the filings. I have to head back and fix their mistake.”
You watched him head up to the bathroom, leaving you flustered and bothered.
It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Whenever Miguel had the chance to finally touch you, something always has to interrupt him.
It would’ve been fine if it was for the last couple of days, but it just had to be weeks!
Miguel grumbles in his office, looking over the mess the employees let the intern make. And what’s worse? Oh yeah, he has to go back to the headquarters before Peter B. does something stupid. Why did he leave that idiot in charge again?
He grumbles even more when he gets the notification on his laptop, more emails sent, and more paperwork to look over. Sometimes he wishes he could just ditch work and head back to you. But he knows he’s the boss and he couldn’t be doing that.
And it wasn’t the first time this happened…
You felt Miguel’s crotch press up against yours, his lips kissed down to your neck, placing light kisses before biting down.
Your hands come up to his hair, pulling him away from your neck. You watch him as he smirks, licking the blood off his lips.
“What did I say before?” He murmurs.
“Miguel.” You huffed, “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please-“ His watch rang, making his hiss.
He grabs it, pressing a few buttons. A screen pops up, it’s Gwen, “Yes?”
“Um, how bad would it be if about a dozen villains escaped?”
“Gwen, you do not need me there.”
“Normally, yes. But if it’s all of them…”
“All of them?! How?!”
“I just got here!”
“I’m on my way.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, cariño, it’s-“
“Don’t apologize.” You sit up, “Go, I can take care of this.” Gesturing to the still-bleeding wound.
“I love you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you too, Miguel.”
It wasn’t just frustrating for him, it was you as well.
You wanted to beg him to stay a little longer, but at the same time, it felt selfish. The HQ would’ve fallen to pieces if Miguel wasn’t there to control the situation.
And now, you laid back on the bed. Usually, you’d keep yourself busy with your work but the ache between your legs was getting unbearable by the second.
You huffed and opened the bedside table, last drawer, and hidden under a blanket was your vibrator. It’s been a while since you last used it, it was before Miguel became slammed with work. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
You took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing. With it up against your clit, you pressed the button. The vibrations made you jolt and your breath hitched. You closed your eyes and let yourself fall into your imagination while pleasure flows throughout your body.
You missed his touch. The way he made you feel. How careful he was with you like you were made of glass. But once he was sure of himself, he’d let himself go.
The way his hands come to your throat, squeezing it before his hands traveled down. But your favorite part is when he finally got to bite your neck. You knew it was his favorite and he wasn’t going to admit it.
Those nights that were pure bliss always heeded carefully, he wanted to be sure that you were okay and-
“Didn’t think you’d miss me this much.” Miguel leans on the door frame. Watching you cover yourself you, “No, no, don’t stop on my account.”
“I-I thought-“
“Yeah, the others had it handled. Came back home once I learned.” Miguel closes the door as he enters the shared bedroom, “So, what’s this?” Snatching the now turned-off toy, “How long have you been using this?”
“Just now.” You tell him.
He climbs onto the bed, “Am I really that disappointing in bed?” Miguel forces your legs open and pulls you closer to him, “Is that the only thing that can get you off?” He starts stripping himself.
“No! You’re more than enough.” You try to sit up but he pushes you back down.
“Then tell me why do you still have these?”
“B-Because you’re so busy, I didn’t want to bother you.”
As if his smirk couldn’t get anymore wider, “All you had to do was use your words.” Miguel holds your hands up against the headboard, using his webbing to keep them secure, “So, tell me. ¿Qué quieres?” (What do you want?)
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Please, fuck me, Miguel.”
“See, was that so hard?” He chuckles.
He doesn’t bother wasting time preparing, he shoved himself in a single thrust. His hand comes to your throat, apply pressure.
Your legs tightly wrap around him, if he wasn’t already close to you, he is now.
“I’ve got a lot of making up to you.” He growls, “We have all day for it, keep your eyes on me and I’ll give you want you want.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
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washeduphazbin · 3 months
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Adam NSFW Alphabet
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Here ya go, ya filthy simps.
First time doing a nsfw alphabet so if it’s … bad I’m sorry. Lmk how to improve tho
--Minors DNI--
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
At the beginning of the relationship, I don't think this man knew what aftercare was; I mean, there's a reason Lilith left him. Let's be honest. It would take a learning curve and a lot of explaining from you about your needs after sex until he'd realize how important it really was.
Once he got the idea down, he'd be religious with it every time after sex, he'd ask, "What the fuck you needed to feel extra sexy."
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
What isn't his favorite body part? Toss up between Boobs, Ass, and Thighs, he loves them all. If you held a gun to his head, he'd say your boobs, big or small, he would NOT CARE. He wants them in his mouth.
Small boobie queens, he'd squeeze them like little stress balls when he's annoyed or anxious.
Big boobie queens, pillows. Need I say more. Calls them bazoingas unironically.
Type of guy to stand next to you talking to Lute and reach out and just squeeze your tits, letting out a HONK. Lute would roll her eyes with a snicker as you flushed, while Adam would look at you with the biggest shit-eating grin.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This guy's cum is thick. milky and warm.
Beads at the tip when you turn him on and likes to cum deep inside you, filling you entirely or on your tits or ass.
Will stare hotly as both your cum spills out of you, as you whimper and whine, usually making him ready for round two.
When you suck him off, he enjoys watching it spill from your lips instead of you swallowing.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Adam has one main secret (idk if it qualifies as dirty) but enjoys genuine praise for things he feels proud of accomplishing. It's not like you praising him for exterminating sinners; it's just simple, innocent praise when he does something particularly sweet for you.
A big softie, but only in private and only to you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He's a fuckboy. Sorry, not sorry, he just is. HOWEVER, it doesn't mean he is a star at sex. He's decent at first, but there's a reason Lucifer stole two of his wives. His biggest gripe was he didn't want to reciprocate head, but you broke him off that relatively quick when you squeezed your thighs around his skull for the first time, practically double-killing him.
It was fuckin' hot.
You both have a lot to learn, but you learn together, and the sex is still angelic.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He has two:
He enjoys cowboy/girl because he's lazy and likes to watch your tits bounce in front of his face.
He also enjoys doggy style, so he can see your ass bounce as he pounds into you, biting your ass cheeks as he goes and slapping.
G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Goofy. He does not shut his mouth; he always has something to say as he's getting intimate with you. It's safe to say he never stops talking, which means he's very vocal about moans, whines, and grunts. It's safe to say he has no filter regarding you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Pretty basic, but the carpet matches the drapes. However, he could be better- groomed. It's safe to say he's definitely hairy, not just there but all over.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
Although Adam is definitely more goofy, as discussed earlier, I think sex is intimate and essential to him. While he can be silly, he works his ass and dick off to make sure it's the best sex you've ever had. Oddly enough, when he's alone with you and in a soft mood, he always romantically initiates sex.
Slow and sensual kisses lead to heated make-outs and biting before turning into more.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I think Adam is on the more hypersexual side of the spectrum if you see sex as a spectrum like I tend to. So, if you're not around for some reason, he will probably be cranking one out sometimes more than once a day. Honestly, even if you are around and you're not feeling sex at the moment, he'll pout, but ultimately, go watch whatever heavens' equivalent to porn.
(or videos he's recorded of the two of you ;) )
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think Adam would have three main kinks:
Breeding - "All of humanity came from this dick."
Mommy Kink - need I explain more? Dominant women are such a significant turn-on for him; one look when you're in Dommy Mommy mode, and he's on his knees.
Role-Play- If you don't think he'd make you cosplay and act like Sinner who is trying to redeem themselves just for him to role play fucking redemption into you, your opinion is just incorrect. Sorry.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere and Everywhere. He doesn't care; if people see good let them know you're both hot as fuck. They're probably green with envy.
His favorite place, though, is on his desk in his office. The thrill of getting caught lights a fire in him that can't be snuffed out without burying himself in your cunt.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I feel like we discussed this one a lot, but I can add a few more. When you're mad at something Hell did or another resident of Heaven. Also, when defending him, think of the "He asked for no pickles" meme, but it's you asking for Adam.
Oh, and of course, you are in any type of lingerie, punk rock, or revealing clothing.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Piss, Poop, ya know the classics. He'd also never want to seriously hurt you, maybe a light slap here and there, maybe a little choking, but if he ever hurts you in the act, he's flaccid so quick and on you like a mother hen.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As stated earlier, his preference is receiving; he loves the way you look between his thighs and his thick cock in your mouth. Drool and pre-cum leaking from your lips.
But he has gotten more open to giving and isn't...great, but you're teaching him how to work his tongue and fingers.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He sets a fast and rough pace, hits you deep in your canal, and kisses your cervix, almost like he's trying to hit your womb. He's a feral beast honestly once he starts fucking you and it'd take an act of God to get him to stop.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
All the time though not super preferred, He likes to tease you as much as he can before letting you cum, but most of the time you have sex, it's out of the house. It's a constant struggle to keep your hands off one another and, more often than not, sneak off for a quick fuck somewhere before rejoining a meeting, hangout or if Adam needs immediate stress relief.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
So long as it's not on his list of hard no's, I feel like Adam will try anything once if you ask. He's for sure a risk taker and wants you to challenge him with something new, but in the end prefers classic sex.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
He can last only two rounds, but they usually last. A very long time because he likes to be a little shit.
T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)
He does not own toys, and if you have them and use them, he will absolutely be jealous of them and attempt to make you trash them. But if you say no, he'll respect it. Just be extremely salty.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh, he's a brat. It is so unfair that it will test you pretty much through the entire process. He enjoys seeing how much he can overstimulate and edge you before he finally fucks you raw.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
So fucking loud. God bless your neighbors if you have any. His groans and moans could shake the entire house, and your whines, whimpers, and pleas for 'harder' aren't any better.
He also laughs a lot.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I think he loves to mark you up to prove to everyone that you are his and his alone. I think it would start with a shit ton of hickies, then a joke from Lute saying he should just collar you until he actually does. It's classy and elegant, matches his angelic robes, and has spikes.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
So I absolutely headcanon him with a dad bod (sorry, not sorry); I think he also has significant arm and chest hair and a particularly drool-worthy happy trail. He's squishy and you love it even though he can be a little insecure about it at times, you just tell him you love him no matter his shape or size.
He is your Teddy Bear.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
HYPERSEXUAL. HIGH. THIS MAN WANTS SOME FUCK.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Passes out quickly afterward and can't go more than two rounds max. Likes to sleep right after but has learned to check on you first before passing out on your tits or chest.
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