#under a read more solely for length!

[starrystevie]

"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.

there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.

eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.

eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.

he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.

he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.

but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.

eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-

"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"

concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.

"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."

steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.

eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.

#under a read more solely for length! #this post is brought to you by me avoiding my work and feeling emotions about steve canonically holding hands when he has sex! #my writing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie hurt/comfort #for some reason i'm currently obsessed with dog imagry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands

[perlelune]

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 

 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours. 

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown. 

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 

“P-President…” 

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong. 

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[trillyke]

Ditto Legwarmers

I wanted to do more legwarmers since my Michiko Collection and my patrons reminded me to do so! These are a cute pair of knee-length ribbed legwarmers which are designed to work with platform shoes (so they might look weird and funny with normal sole shoes), and are located under socks. 🧦 (Inspired by)

custom thumbnail

25 swatches

base game compatible

edited EA mesh by me

please read and respect my TOU

you can buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi if you want

➤ DOWNLOAD HERE (Patreon, Free)

Public release: 5th February, 2023

#ts4 #ts4cc #ts4 cc #s4 #s4cc #s4 cc #ts4accessory #ts4socks

[coldfanbou]

Crowded

We continue on with the Mommy series, for which I have yet to decide a name. What was going to be a simple lunch date got interrupted by a load of guests.

Length 3.4K

Mina x Momo x m reader

Previous Part

Next Part

You wake up in bed, stretching your body after a good night's sleep. Today was Saturday, meaning that you could spend the day relaxing. You turn onto your side and grab your phone from the nightstand. You see a few message notifications from Jihyo as well as Dahyun. Dahyun’s message read, “Thank you for last night. It was great; I’d love it if you could pick me up every day, and I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. I’d like to make it up for you sometime.” You smile at her message, writing back that you don’t mind using your time with her and when you’ll pick her up. 

Looking at Jihyo’s message, it was more of an invitation. “Hey, I’m free today if you want to hang out. Maybe do something naughty? Text me back if you’re interested.” A winking face to end the message tells you everything you need to know. You sit up in bed and consider your options. While you wanted to see Jihyo, you also wanted to rest after a week's work. You decide to answer later. You leave bed and cook breakfast before deciding to head out.

Pulling out your phone as you walk around the block, you text Jihyo back. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Oh, you’re interested?” Jihyo responded; you could imagine the smirk on Jihyo’s face as she typed that message. “Consider it a business date; we’ll go out and have lunch together. It’ll be nice to just talk to each other. Or would you rather take me back to your place to treat me to something better? Maybe something long and hard?”

You chuckle and shake your head at her text before agreeing to meet her. You had nothing else to do, so it would help fill the time. Jihyo tells you where to meet and sends you a picture. It was one of her tits. Jihyo had her arm under them, pushing them up and making them seem bigger. You quickly get back to the home screen and continue your walk. Once you return home, you prepare for your date and relax until it’s time.

Jeongyeon, around this time, was out shopping. Her mind was filled with thoughts, the revelation of Dahyun and Jihyo spending time with you getting on her nerves. She pushes her baby along in her stroller, looking down at her child’s sleeping form. She gives them a soft smile. Jeongyeon runs her hand along her baby’s chubby cheeks. Her smile turns to a frown as she’s reminded of her husband. “Maybe I should di…” Jeongyeon stops herself from completing that sentence. She shakes her head and continues going around the stores, eventually bumping into you as you head to your date. “It’s you.” She says softly, her hands rising to her chest as she gives you a bright smile. 

“It’s nice to see you, Jeongyeon. What are you doing around here?” You ask.

“I was just out shopping with Jieun.” She says, pointing to her sleeping baby. You take a look at Jieun and smile. 

“She’s cute. Looks a lot like you.”

“Thanks. What are you doing around here?”

“Oh, Jihyo invited me to lunch.” You tell her, just as you hear someone call your name. You both turn your head toward the voice, seeing Jihyo walking over. Jihyo and Jeongyeon make eye contact.

“Jeongyeon! It’s been a while.” Jihyo says as she hugs her friend. “I didn’t expect you to be here. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine. I was just taking Jieun out for a walk and happened to bump into him. I hear that you’re eating together.” Jeongyeon replies. There’s a slight pause as Jihyo thinks about what to say.

“Yes, we ran into each other a little while ago. You didn’t tell me he moved into the city; were you trying to keep him for yourself?”

Jeongyeon is taken aback by the question. She knew Jihyo knew that the question was meant to get information out of her. “I-I”

“I got transferred over here and happened to work next to her. I didn’t know you lived here, too.” You interrupted solely because you didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. 

“Between us, when was the last time you two had sex?” Jihyo says, a mischievous smile on her face.

“It wasn’t that long ago, a few days ago with Sana. Right, Jeongyeon?” Jihyo looks surprised by your answer.

“With Sana? She knows about how naughty you’ve been?” Jeongyeon looks a little more uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it was a threesome. She just ran into us when we went out for ice cream.” Jeongyeon grows quieter. She feels defeated giving away all the information, knowing the last time she was together with you was a threesome; she feels lesser. Jeongyeon figured that Jihyo had you for herself not too long ago. 

“Hey! Is that really you two?” The conversation is again broken as you see Sana running toward your group. It wasn’t just her; in tow were two other women. Jeongyeon and Jihyo look a little less than pleased. In Jeongyeon's mind, the last thing she needed was for Sana to see her with you, especially after everything she had just said. For Jihyo, it meant more competition as she saw the two women with her, Momo and Mina. “It really is you two. We almost have the whole group together again. We’re just missing Nayeon.” Sana sees the three of you together and pauses for a moment. “Did I walk in on something?” she says, trying to hide that she doesn’t like Jeongyeon being with you.

Jihyo takes the time to explain things to you. “Ah, I don’t think you’ve met them. This is Momo, and that’s Mina.” She says, motioning to each woman. “All of us and Nayeon went to college together. I haven’t seen these three in a long time. I usually only see Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Nayeon hasn’t popped up in a while, though.” You give her a nod of understanding before bowing at Momo and Mina.

“Ooh, you’re pretty handsome. Are you single?” Momo immediately asks, leaning in to show you her cleavage. Mina smacks Momo’s shoulder out of embarrassment. “What was that for!? You think he’s cute too, don’t you?” Mina’s face turned red, and she looked away. “Anyway, what are we doing? How about we eat? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” 

“Oh, well, he and I were about to have lunch toge-” Jihyo’s cut off.

“Perfect, we’ll join you,” Momo responds, forcing herself into the date along with the others. Momo walks between you two, hooking your arms and dragging you along to a restaurant. With the entire group in tow, you’re introduced well to Momo and Mina. Momo was much more outgoing and outspoken, while Mina was the exact opposite. You watched the group talk mostly, listening in on what they did in their time at college. Jeongyeon and Jihyo sit on either side of you. Jeongyeon snakes her hand onto yours, getting you to hold her hand as she bounces her baby on her lap. You glance at her; she smiles at you for a brief second. You felt a hand on your lap and looked over at Jihyo. She has a sly smirk and types a message with her free hand. “This isn’t what I had in mind.” You see in a text from her. The lunch goes along with the ladies drinking. If you learned anything, it was that Jihyo had a high tolerance for alcohol. Jeongyeon was the first to leave, needed to get home. Sana was the next one, having had more than enough to drink. That left Jihyo, Momo, and Mina. While Jihyo and Momo had a lot to drink, Mina kept herself relatively sober. She was tipsy but not drunk. 

“I should take you all home. You’re in no condition to leave on your own.” You tell them. You help Jihyo up first, then Momo and Mina. Momo and Jihyo lean against your body as you pay their portions of the bill. Mina holds onto the back of your shirt and waddles along with you, struggling to keep up. You stumble your way to your car, Momo, and Jihyo’s weight making it hard to walk straight. Jihyo gives you directions to her home; her head sways as it seems to you she had too much to drink. She was falling asleep. After dropping her off, Momo and Mina tell you where they live. “So you two live together?”

“Yes, we thought it would be better to live together,” Mina replies as she looks out the window. “Thank you for driving us home.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’d be worried if something happened on your way home.” 

“Right, we get that.” You get to their home, parking in front.

“Thank you for driving us,” Momo says in slurred speech. She pokes her head between the front seats and kisses you suddenly. “I knew you would taste good.”

Mina pulls Momo back, “Momo, what are you doing?”

“You know you want to have a taste of him, too,” Momo says before planting her lips on Mina. “What if we fucked him?” Momo says as she moves her hand between Mina’s legs. “Does that sound good to you?” She says, her question directed at you. The action in the backseats turns you on; you nod your head. “See, he’s interested. He wants to see the real you.” Momo says as she kisses Mina again. You can hear Mina’s whines now, and they’re making you hard. You step out of the car and help them out.

Momo grabs at your pants, leading you to her home. Mina closes the door as Momo takes you to the bedroom. Momo strips off your clothes as you do the same to her. Her bountiful bust was revealed to you as you slipped the dress she was wearing off her shoulders. Momo wore no bra, instead having pasties on her nipples, and she wore a pair of black panties. She throws her underwear away quickly and pushes you back onto the bed. Momo grins as she sees your hard cock. She grabs the tip and runs her tongue along the underside; it sends shivers down your spine. She flicks the head with her tongue before taking it into her warm mouth. She drools over it; her saliva runs down your shaft as she strokes it, spreading her saliva around. Her tongue swirls around the tip of your cock. Mina walks in to see Momo already getting to work. She slips off her dress, letting it fall to the floor, and gets beside Momo. You feel Mina’s lips on your balls, her small tongue moving around them.

Momo’s lips disappear from your cock as she crawls up to you. “I want you to see just who Mina is.” She whispers into your ear. Mina, seeing that your cock was now free, rubbed it against her face, covering herself in Momo’s spit. Momo runs her fingertip along your nipple as she watches. “See, Mina’s a real slut. Just one little taste, and you can have her wrapped around your finger.” You look down to see Mina’s face against your crotch, your cock in the back of her throat. Her tongue is lapping at your balls. She pulls back slowly and begins to bob her head. Mina’s small mouth was stretched to its limits; you could feel how tight they were pulled over your cock. “It’ll get much better once you see how she rides you. I’ll get my turn after.” Momo says as she gets onto her knees and moves by your head. “I might as well get something while I wait.” She says before planting herself on your face. Momo grinds against your face, thinking you wouldn't put in any work. When your tongue slips inside her, she jumps a little. You grab onto Momo’s waist and pull her back down. “Shit.” Momo moans as she places her hands on your chest to hold herself up. Your tongue pushes past her lips, rubbing against her walls as you try to find her G-spot. Momo’s thick thighs squeeze your head as she struggles to control her body. Her moans fill the room as she rocks back and forth on your face.

Mina continues to bob her head, her tongue running across the tip as she licks up your precum. She strokes your cock quickly, hoping to make you cum quickly. You were close to cumming a few moments later your cock began to throb. Mina reacted quickly, rubbing her face against your crotch as she deepthroated you. You buck your hips, hitting the back of her throat as you cum. Mina’s mouth filled with cum, more than she ever had, forcing her to back up and get a facial. Mina coughs as your cum rains down on her. Mina’s face is completely ruined, with saliva dripping down her chin and cum covering most of her face. Mina mounts you, placing your cock between her folds as she grabs Momo by her hair and pulls her into a kiss. Momo scoops your cum out of Mina’s mouth as they kiss. Momo moans into it; she tries to hold her climax but can’t. She breaks away, moaning loudly as your tongue finds her G-spot. Momo’s legs squeeze down on you, and she grits her teeth, whining.

Momo falls off to the side, her chest heaving as she recovers. She gets to watch Mina go crazy. Mina grabs your cock and points it at her cunt before dropping herself on it. She hums, feeling your cock splits her in two. “Oh god.” She cries as she begins bouncing on your cock without a second thought. “Shit, you’re so big.” She moans as she holds your thighs in order to help herself bounce. You grab Mina’s waist and slam her down on your cock, matching her energy. You buck your hips, going deeper into her pussy. Mina bites her lip and gives you a sly look. “I love a man who can fuck me like a whore.” She says, biting her lip. Holding Mina’s waist, you turn her onto her back. You grab her legs and put them over her head. Mina gives you a gummy smile before moans come flowing out of her as you pound her into the mattress. Momo snakes her way into the fold, attaching herself to Mina’s small tits and using her tongue on them. 

Mina threw her head back, her senses becoming overwhelmed by the pleasure. “Deeper, deeper!” She cries out. You impale her with every thrust, giving Mina every inch of your cock. Momo has fun playing with Mina’s nipple, going as far as giving them small bites to make her squeal. Mina whimpers as she nears her orgasm, “I’m going to cum.” She moans, her walls clamping down around your cock. You speed up your thrusts, filling the room with the sounds of your bodies clapping against each other. Mina’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she cums, You let go of her legs, and she immediately wraps them around you. “Cum inside me.” She repeats over and over again. Your throbbing cock has Mina pushing you in deeper. “Cum inside my slutty pussy.” Mina shouts. You bury your cock, giving in to her demands as your cum floods her pussy.

You pull out once you’re finished and lay down on the open space of the bed. Your cock is soft as you try to recover, only to feel Momo rub your cock with her tits. “You’re lucky Mina was tipsy; alcohol tends to take away her energy. She’d be all over you normally.” Momo traps your cock between her large mounds, pumping your shaft with them. “I like to call that version of Mina, Sharon. It’s her English name. Now it’s just you and me.” 

“Yeah, I guess so. She’s a real wild one.” You groan. Momo’s tits were soft; they cushioned your cock, it nearly felt like a fleshlight. You start getting hard, the tip poking through Momo’s tits. Momo wraps her lips around it, sucking on it as she individually moves her tits around your shaft. “Damn, you’re good.”

“Of course I am. You should hear all the stories about our little friend group.” Momo says, alluding to their time in college. Momo releases a light moan as she pops your cock out of her mouth. “You’re cum tastes good, but I don’t want to waste it on this mouth. I want it here.” Momo straddles you and spreads her lips, her pink pussy on full display. She keeps her lips spread as she presses the tip of your cock against her. “Mina was right. You are big. I hope you don’t break me.” She says, teasing you. Momo’s pussy swallows the head as she sinks down. Momo has a smile on her face as you begin to fill her cunt. “Fuck, I feel so full.” Momo groans as she finishes taking you inside. You reach up and pull on one of her nipples, making her moan. “You would like these; Jihyo was all over you during lunch.” Momo grinds against your cock as she adjusts to your size. You squeeze and grab at her soft tits in the meantime. 

When Momo begins to move, you move your hands down to her hips, helping her bounce on your cock. Momo leans down, kissing you as she pushes your cock into her. You feel her hard nipples run across your chest as she moves. You glance at her cleavage, enjoying the way her tits swayed. You kissed Momo again, her soft lips melting into yours as she got closer to cumming. Your hands wander her body, moving from her toned back to her ass. You run your hands across her cheeks before giving them a light slap. Momo coos and tells you to do it again. You put more strength into your strike, making it sting for Momo. Her walls begin to tighten around your cock; you feel her squeeze down on the tip of your cock.

“You’re getting tighter.” You grunt as Momo comes back down on your cock.

“Let’s cum together.” Momo moans. You agree and spank Momo one more time before grabbing her waist and using her like a toy. Momo hums as she takes every inch inside her. “I want you to cum inside. It wouldn’t be fair if Mina got a creampie and I didn’t.”  You chuckle at her words and promise to give her a big one. Momo pulls away from you, sitting up as she nears her climax. She grabs at her tits, squeezing them as she revels in her coming orgasm. You continue to drive your cock deep into Momo, impaling her on it as you blow your load inside her. Momo has a wide grin on her face as she feels your warm cum pour into her cunt. She grinds against your cock, getting every drop she can before getting off and laying beside Mina. 

You say your goodbyes and get dressed to rest in your own home when Momo stops you, calling you over to her. “Here’s my number, handsome. Call me so we can have some fun again. I might as well give you Mina’s number, too. She’ll be cock hungry for a little while, so she might call you up.” You chuckle, wishing her a good night and heading home. 

On your way home, you get a call from Jihyo and answer it. “Hey, sorry today didn’t go the way we planned it. I didn’t think everyone would be there.”

“Neither did I. Things just turned out that way.” 

“Give me your address; I’ll just visit you if I have to.” You laugh in response, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“We can have a chat later. I’m driving home, so I gotta focus on driving.”

“Yeah, good night.”

“Good night, Jihyo.”  As soon as you hang up the phone, you get another call, this one from Jeongyeon. “Hello, Jeongyeon?”

“Hi, are you free tomorrow?”

“I should be. Why do you ask?” 

“I want to spend the day with you. I don’t want to just go to you for sex…can we talk tomorrow? I don’t feel comfortable doing it over the phone.”

“That’s fine, Jeongyeon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #momo smut #mina smut

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.

In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!

Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.

To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!

All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!

Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.

This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!

ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023

IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5

➣The Perfect One

╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞

➣Get In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞

➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞

➣Here Now

╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞

➣Burst Veins

╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞

IMAGES USED:  Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5

➣Nervous Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞

➣Blood Like Obsidian

╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞

➣Supposed To Happen

╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞

➣Digging Gaze

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

➣Sole Survivor

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7

➣Didn't Mean It

╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞

➣Him, Her, and the Dog

╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞

➣Drunken Sappiness

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞

➣How Do You Listen To That?

╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞

➣Finally Broken

╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞

➣Don't Look At Her

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

➣In His Head

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞

IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7

➣Life Snaps By In Flashes

╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞

➣Heart-Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞

➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond

╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞

➣Find Me

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞

➣Still The Same Fools

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞

➣Is This Why?

╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞

➣Oblivious Pining

╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞

IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6

KEEGAN P. RUSS:

➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

➣Hold Her Close

╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞

➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞

➣Movies and Stale Popcorn

╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞

DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:

➣To The Boy of My Childhood

╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞

➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17

CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:

➣New Paint

╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞

➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞

➣Listen To My Voice

╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞

➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞

➣Alive and Breathing

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞

➣I Can See It In Your Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞

➣A Green-Eyed Monster

╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞

SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:

➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞

➣Raining Cats and Dogs

╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞

OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:

➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson

╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞

COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:

➣Hold Me Longer

╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞

SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:

➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong

╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞

COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:

➣Sleeping On The Porch

╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞

➣Love Echoes In Silence

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:

➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride

╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞

ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):

➣Count The Hours

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞

➣Wide-Eyed Panic

╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞

#halcyone updates #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x female reader #5k celebration #cod masterlist

[therhythmafterthesummer]

A Mutually Beneficial Agreement (M) ~Bang Chan | [1/3]

Pairing: Demon!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Supernatural AU | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: How ironic... to have found yourself entangled with a demon called Christopher, of all things. Some people would’ve made you believe he was taking advantage of you. But you knew better. [Find part 2 here]. Warnings: pet names · there seems to be specks of plot in my corn (pwp) · Chris has horns and a tail (feels like that deserves a warning on its own) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: finally sat down to finish this idea i had ages ago. i’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, so this was certainly a nice warm-up. this is all just filth, and i dedicate it to my fellow monster lovers. especial thanks to @notastraykid & @kisskissbanggang for reading this one and sharing their valuable thoughts with me. it means the world to me💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 2 >

Smut Warnings: literal monster cock · praising · smidge of degradation · unprotected penetration [piv & anal] (the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · the tail goes in places it probably shouldn’t go into · double penetration · minimal nipple action.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“You’re so warm, sweetheart…” Chris mumbled against your cheek, all while he held your jaw in place with his hand.

“So warm and soft…”

With his chest partially against your back, one of your legs over his hip, keeping your legs as spread open as much as this position allowed, Chris kept each thrust controlled, and his rhythm steady.

“So… mortal…”

The feeling of his cock splitting you open repeatedly had your mind disconnected from anything that wasn’t him and you on this bed, and it wasn’t like you wanted it to be any other way.

You weren’t really sure how long you’d been here, much less how many times either of you had reached that perfect peak. Your thoughts were just muddied images, the only thing you could see clearly was Chris.

Chris, and his charming smile, and his ageless eyes, and the horns on his head, and his perfect nose… 

The weight of his arm on your chest and the tight hold on your jaw felt heavenly, just like his length within your walls did. 

“Mortal, but incredibly talented… Perfectly capable of… taking me, of giving me everything. Hm?”

His voice was but a whisper against your cheek. There was no way you wouldn’t have been able to hear him when he was this close, when you both were one and the same with how intertwined you were, when every single one of your senses were solely focused on him…

It wasn’t just his length or what he was saying that had your mind hazy. It was also the pants and groans and grunts he let out, all the kisses he pressed on the side of your face, and the feeling of his thick tail wrapped around your waist.

Chris had a way with words, and whenever he talked like this to you, whenever he let out his thoughts completely unfiltered while you had sex, you couldn’t help but feel tingly all over. Aroused, warmer, wetter…

“Can’t talk, darling?” Chris mumbled, each word made his lips brush against the skin of your cheek. He pressed a lingering kiss on your skin, keeping the pace of his hips just as steady as he had this entire time, unfaltering, somewhat slow, but precise.

You opened your mouth to speak, to confirm what he’d said much earlier. That yes, yes you were more than capable of taking anything he wanted to give you, that you could talk. But, honestly, you couldn’t really confirm that, not when what came out of your mouth instead was a moan.

He chuckled, clearly amused. So amused he quickened his pace, further clouding your reason. Just his mere presence set your insides alight, that, added to his motions, to his words, was just so incredibly dangerous. He had your mind going all fuzzy, drunk on his aura and the feel of him. 

A priest would tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you was manipulating you for his own gain, enhancing your lust and sins so he could ultimately devour you whole for his own pleasure.

But you knew better.

There was no way you wouldn’t have known better, when this arrangement had been going for so long. Chris had always made it very clear that he’d never used any spell or mind control to make you do the things you did, his presence simply enhanced what was already there. 

And you believed him.

‘Sinful little human, aren’t you?’ You could still remember the first time he told you that, back when you found him by a tree in the town’s cemetery. 

You’d given in to him so easily… And, honestly? You had no regrets. Zero regrets.

Especially when he was fucking you this good, when he fucked you this good several nights a week.

‘All these endorphin rushes keep us healthy, hm?’ Chris said sometimes, and you couldn’t help but agree. Sometimes you were groggy and achy the next day, but you were certainly satisfied, even happy… What an odd emotion to feel thanks to a demon.

“Have you gone dumb already?” Chris chuckled. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nodded anyway. Because it was true, you couldn’t even speak at this point. “Aww, pretty little human has gone dumb on my cock, poor thing…”

There was something about his condescending tone that made pleasure pool in the pit of your stomach, that made your lower belly tighten further. Needy, needy, needy, needy… You could almost hear his voice in your mind, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it truly was him speaking to you. It wouldn’t have been the first time his thoughts slipped into yours while you both got lost in each other.

Chris’ hand loosened its grip on your face, while his tail unravelled from around your waist. His fingers ghosted all the way down your torso, between your breasts, over your belly, until they reached that borderline overstimulated nub between your legs. You couldn’t help but mewl, a sound that was almost pathetic to your ears. Not only because of his motions on your clit, but also because his tail had made its way up your body, until it found one of your nipples to rub it gently with its tapered tip.

It was so much. He was so much. And, somehow, you still couldn’t get enough.

“C’mon, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, diligently stimulating those pleasure points of your body in just the exact way you needed him to, in that way you’d shown him how to all those months ago. “Aren’t you gonna bless me with another? I need it, darling. And I know you need it, too”.

His pace picked up, until he was almost brutally ramming into you, stretching you open to your very limits, stimulating your insides in ways only the bumps and ridges of his very supernatural cock could. You were certainly close, and you knew that it wouldn’t take long for you to finally come undone under his enticing motions.

You could barely register the sound of his name coming out of your mouth, not only because of how quiet you’d said it, but also because your mind was going completely numb, hazy as you drew closer and closer to that ledge. With the rough pad of his fingers, with the texture of the tip of his tail, Chris worked you up, and, just like you’d predicted, in a matter of minutes, you fell face first into that pool of burning ecstasy that Chris himself had prepared for you.

The feeling raked throughout your body, extending from your core to every single one of your limbs. You couldn’t tell if you were moaning, or crying, or saying his name. You couldn’t tell what was going on outside of the feeling of Chris’ skin on your own, of his breath against your cheek.

“That’s it, baby. I love it when you tremble for me. You’re so good, doing so well…” Chris whispered the words in your ear. You could barely hear them over the sound of your own heart beating within them.

Gasping for air, you released Chris’ tail from your grip. You honestly hadn’t even realised you’d grabbed it in your orgasm-induced frenzy. The tip of it had finally stopped stimulating your nipples. Instead, it found its way between your legs to replace his fingers on your clit, just to apply pressure on it to prolong the final waves of your climax while he used his now unoccupied hand to turn your head towards him so he could kiss you. 

His thrusts had stopped, his tongue, forked and slightly textured, was gentle when it moved against your own, and his thumb softly caressed your cheek as you were barely conscious enough to kiss him back. The taste of him was addictive, his throbbing length within your warmth made you dizzier, and it was at moments like these that you were reminded of why you always let him into your bed.

Because you just couldn’t get enough.

When you fully came down from your high, you figured he’d start ramming into you once again so he could reach his own relief. Instead, he removed his hand from your face and brought it to your lower abdomen, where it settled to caress the skin. 

“Say…” Chris mumbled, pressing a quick, brief peck on your lips before he pulled out of your walls.

The loss of contact almost made you whine, but when his hand left your lower abdomen, and you started feeling the slick tip of his cock against the sensitive skin of your ass, you looked at him through half lidded eyes, holding your breath in anticipation.

“Would you let me come in your perfect little hole, pet?” Chris’ tail moved away from your core to wrap around your thigh, squeezing the supple flesh as he continued to rub the head of his length over the ridged skin between your buttocks. 

You swallowed, licking your lips while you nodded. You didn’t trust your voice right now, you just knew you were almost trembling with excitement at the thought. It had only been a couple of days, but you certainly missed the stretch, just his fingers earlier in the evening hadn’t been enough.

“Say it”, Chris reached for the bottle of lube that had been discarded next to the pillows, like he was sure you were going to comply.

And he was right. You were going to comply, you wanted to, needed to…

“Please…” Your voice was hoarse, low, tired after all the involuntary noises that had been escaping your mouth, but you did say the one thing you knew he wanted you to. And as soon as you did, you heard his deep intake of breath.

His tail moved your thigh, closing your legs, and your body moved instinctively, laying fully on your side so Chris could press his chest completely against your back. With a hand on your buttock, you helped him keep yourself spread open, exposed so the lubed tip of his cock could start pushing against the ring of muscle between your cheeks.

Breathing deeply, you willed yourself to relax, and after a few moments, he finally breached past the initial resistance, slowly, but steadily filling your ass with his monstrous cock. Chris groaned behind you, nuzzling your shoulder. You just whined, already feeling yourself heating up with the feel of him going into your hole.

As soon as he bottomed out, his hand found its way to your lower belly, gripping your soft flesh tightly while his sharp teeth scraped the skin of your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The feeling of fullness within you was absolutely mouth-watering, but, still, you wanted more.

Reaching for Chris’ tail on your thigh, you ran your fingers through the black snakeskin. The motion had him swearing under his breath, right next to your ear. The skin of his tail was smooth, sensitive, shining under the low lighting provided by the lamp in the corner of your room. The shimmer and iridescence was like nothing you’d ever seen before. Pretty… So, so pretty…

“Chris…” 

“…Hm?” 

“Move”.

Chris inhaled sharply behind you, tightening his grip on your belly, and finally started to move. Slowly at first, to ensure you felt every ridge, every bump of his length, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Oh, what a satisfying stretch…

When you dragged your nails over the texture on his tail, Chris groaned, and his pace picked up considerably. His tail unfurled, releasing your thigh for blood to rush back to the area–you honestly hadn’t even realised how tight he’d been holding onto you. The mild numbness didn’t prevent you from feeling its movement, though. 

Releasing your tummy to instead hook his hand under your knee, Chris pushed your leg towards your chest, giving his tail plenty room to find its way between your legs.

You could feel your legs tremble, your heart almost leaping out of your chest, and, in a poor attempt to ground yourself, you reached back, finding Chris’ soft strands. But, most importantly, finding one of his horns. 

The moment you held onto the keratin covering, Chris swore, borderline moaned under your tightening grip around the base of it. Before you knew it, the tip of his tail was at your entrance, teasing your opening while Chris kept brutally and repeatedly pushing himself into your ass. There was nothing you could coherently say or do. You knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but you just couldn’t speak.

However, you really didn’t need to say anything, as you mindlessly caressed the base of his horn, his tail had finally plunged itself right into your sopping cunt. Full, full, full, oh, so full of Chris… Just how you wanted to be, how he wanted it to be…

Warm, warm, warm, wet, tight… Chris didn’t say any of this, but you could hear him clear as day, even through the fog coating your thoughts. He was losing himself as well, and you could feel yourself gush around his tail with how aroused the thought made you, with how good he was fucking both of your holes.

“How are you… this soft and warm, hm? Warm little human. Lewd, sinful, aren’t you? Giving yourself to a demon so wholly…” Chris mumbled the words against the skin of your shoulder, broken between groans and whines of his own as you kept stroking the horn in your hand, as you kept squeezing him tight. 

You just nodded, incapable of telling him anything else. You could feel the flesh of your bum ripple with each collision of his hips, and it wasn’t long until his thrusts and the movement of his tail became an uncoordinated mess. He was close, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it yourself.

With your fingers on your clit, you rubbed quick circles as best as you could in this position. Uncaring of the desperate moans coming out of your mouth, at your motions, at the stretch of his cock in your ass, and his tail within your walls, nudging your sweet spot. 

“Shit… Fuck, gonna–gonna blow, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, breathless after hours of indulging in you and your body, and you certainly weren’t doing any better. “Stuff you full of me… Want it, pet? Want that?”

You nodded, frantically rubbing your clit as you chased your relief, telling him that yes, yes you wanted it. You wanted anything he was willing to give you.

With a desperate plea of your name, Chris finally came. His tail stopped moving, but his thrusts didn’t, he kept fucking into you as he filled up your ass, whining once your own orgasm washed over you and you started to clamp hard around his appendages. Whines of your own escaped from between your lips, your grip on his horn tightened, eliciting more desperate pleas from the demon behind you.

After one final thrust, keeping his hips as flush as he could with your buttocks, Chris finally stilled. Your throat was dry after doing nothing but moaning and crying for a while, your chest rose and fell with your quick breaths, and you could feel Chris’ doing the same against your back.

When his tail left the comfort of your warmth, it snaked all the way up your body, until the tip pressed against your lips, which you eagerly opened to let it in.

As you swirled your tongue around the textured skin, you could taste yourself on it, something that didn’t displease you in the slightest. If you hadn’t just spent hours here, you were sure just the texture and the taste on your tongue would’ve been enough to heat you up all over again.

Chris pressed tired, lingering kisses on your shoulder, just as he pulled out of your ass. Slowly, his cum spilled out and onto the now more than ruined bedsheets, joining the mix of fluids that had ended up there throughout the evening.

When you finally let go of his horn, when his tail finally popped out of your mouth, you turned around, looking into those dark eyes of his that always made a shiver run up and down your spine. Chris just grinned, a wolfish grin that had you scoffing a small laugh and rolling your eyes.

Your limbs were achy, your eyes could barely stay open, but you still let him pull you into his arms when he stood up from the bed. The sheets behind you started moving on their own as he walked you to your bathroom, where he sat you down on the toilet so he could diligently clean you up. A shower just wouldn’t be possible right now, you could barely stand straight, so he just made do with a jug and a washcloth.

One wouldn’t think a demon would be this gentle, but Chris was probably the oddest demon you’d ever met. ‘If I’m gonna do something, I better do it right’, he often said, and as you came to find out, this was just an integral part of fucking you as the act itself.

When you were finally mostly dry, laying your head on his chest with the now clean bedding under you, you could feel your eyes droop, vaguely even registering the words coming out of Chris’ mouth.

“When you wake up tomorrow, I won’t be here. But, with a bit of luck, I’ll be back in a couple of nights”, he mumbled, quietly as he caressed your hair and your back.

You just hummed to let him know you’d heard him. Not like he needed to tell you that, since it was always like this. He’d appear, feed off of your lust, and disappear for a few nights. That was your arrangement. It wasn’t conventional, nor normal in any way, but it was what you had, and, for now, it was enough. It was just what you needed yourself.

A priest would certainly tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you, cuddling you, was manipulating you for his own gain. But what a priest wouldn’t have known at first glance, was that you had summoned this demon yourself. That the only reason you let him into your bed and feed off of you, was because, in a way, you fed off of him, too.

Part 2 >

Tagging:

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @iadorethemskz · @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin

If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

#neverendingdreams #stray kids supernatural au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #demon bang chan #✨🌙✏

[partycatty]

kenshi > read my mind

sitting across the table from your boyfriend at sun do's royal dinner, filling his mind with terrible images...

warnings: ur a horndog, exhibitionism ig, SWITCH KENSHI NATION RISE UP!

notes: this was inspired by @crimsonbubble 's post about kenshi's telepathy... absolute genius... also please pretend he's got sento here or something idfk just bear with me please i'm in heat LMAO. funny side note i had to rewrite this after finishing it to tweak some details, namely that i forgot kenshi CANNOT FUCKING SEE.

[ masterlist ]

• there was a mutual agreement between you and kenshi, no funny business in outworld lest the entirety of earthrealm be damned to your reputation. this was a doable task, you and kenshi were disciplined and well-mannered, like two cute little peas in a very stoic pod.

• however, when you're sat at the long table, syzoth on your left and johnny on your right as you tear apart a roasted bird, you find yourself salivating at the sight of kenshi swirl a glass of red wine with interest. how is it that everything he does is so effortlessly sexy? your chewing slows and you swallow thickly.

• kenshi must have felt your burning gaze, considering his familiarity with it, and his head flicks up to meet yours.

• you look really hot tonight, you try to think as coherently as you can but your mind wanders faster than you can control, and you're envisioning kenshi throwing that roasted bird and glassware to the floor as he fucks you stupid there and then, using your hole as his personal stress relief as he pins you hard to the table. kenshi chokes on his wine, fists clenching as his head tilts downward to avoid staring at you and spiraling his own mind any further.

• the illuminated figures of his friends surrounding kenshi don't seem to pick up on his flushed state, too entranced in their meals to properly notice anything off.

• what's the matter? you toy with him innocently, leaning over the table to tear the leg from the bird and let your breasts spill out and settle atop the table. how he wishes he could see the flush of your skin, the way your outfit compliments your figure so well. don't get too heated, someone will notice.

• you stick your finger in your mouth, sucking away the flavor of the food as you look directly at him with low lids. you had to commit to this, whatever your goal was it surely couldn't have ended well for you.

• there was so much room under the table, a dark part of you snickers as you envision crawling under the table and freeing his surely solid cock, swirling your tongue around his tip and digging your nails into his thigh, reminding him to keep quiet.

• "stop," kenshi mouths at you, shoulders tense as the spirits probe your mind and fill him with evil thoughts. you reach your foot underneath the tablecloth and confirm what you suspected when your sole pressed into his bulge, making him gasp before covering his mouth.

• seems like you don't want me to, you coo into his mind, applying just enough pressure to make him jump. you're all hard and needy for me, aren't you? wish you could just fuck my pretty pussy until i'm nothing more than a drooling mess?

• syzoth is startled by kenshi's thighs bumping the table, brows knitting as he eyes down kenshi's shivery state. "are you alright?" he inquires, tilting his head.

• "no need to worry, syzoth," you insist, while simultaneously conjuring up images of kenshi stuffing his inked fingers so deep in your cunt you cream over them. "kenshi is just a little under the weather as of late."

• your strained grin seems to convince him well enough to drop the subject, turning back to his plate of bugs. your head turns, now grinning at your extremely flustered boyfriend.

• "stop it," he mouths again, squeezing your foot between his thighs. that does nothing, of course, as he immediately is flooded once again with your thoughts of settling between his thighs, squishing your cheek on one while pumping his length with a hand. his throat clears, maybe a bit louder than intended.

• i want you so bad, your lashes flutter, your food a forgotten part of the process. you make me so wet, kenshi, it's so hard to focus when i just want you to use me.

• you giggle to yourself. kenshi's cock is so strained against his dress pants he wondered if he might just pass out or break his zipper. the thoughts of him splitting you open make your own thighs clench, rubbing together to release any tension you'd built. your panties undoubtedly damp, clit throbbing and needy, all of which you project into his head with a sly grin.

• fuck me open on this table, you halfheartedly propose. split me and make everyone know what a whore i am for that dick, pretty boy. i'll ride you so fucking good you won't even remember your own name, is that what you want? you want my thighs around your head when you eat me out? you make me cum so hard, kenshi, you and only you gets me so horny like this, i can barely contain it.

• simultaneously dirty talking through your minds and creating images and scenes that no doubt will send you to hell was far too much for kenshi, especially in public. he stands harshly, his chair screeching against the floor which thankfully draws enough attention away from him to allow him to adjust himself quickly in his pants, tugging his top down further in hopes that somehow, someway his massive cock could be hidden enough.

• "please excuse me," kenshi mutters, bowing deeply. "i believe i am unwell."

• "could we offer you anything?" kitana stands with him, eyes wide with concern. "tea, perhaps—?"

• kenshi bows his head, shaking it slightly. "that won't be necessary princess, though i appreciate it."

• after everyone finishes exchanging funny looks, nobody seems to really notice the sly glint in your eye as your head follows his movements. he walks around the table, having to pass you in the process. his hands sweep behind your hair and cup the back of your neck gently as he leans down to mumble something in your ear. nobody thinks to question the gesture, as it is common knowledge you two were together. what he says though, is so heinous you hope outworld abilities don't include superhearing.

• "you're fucking done for," he mutters, nails digging into the sides of your neck ever so slightly. "you're paying for making me this hard later."

• he pulls away before you could even consider replying, walking off as the click of his dress shoes lessen in volume. the dinner resumes, though johnny leans into your other ear.

• "what's his problem?" johnny asks obliviously, watching kenshi exit. "he's always got a stick up his ass... no offense."

• "none taken," you reply sweetly, turning to face him. "i believe he's just feeling a little sickly."

• "outworld germs?" johnny chuckles, leaning back in his chair. you shrug, looking at the bird again.

• "maybe it was the food."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takahashi smut #marley writes ☆

[twisted-tales-of-all]

When Insanity Works

Summary: In a world where men have learned not to summon succubi for their own pleasure, Mingi decides to try it anyway. Pairing: Song Mingi x afab!Reader Genre: Smut, Fantasy, Horror(?), One Shot Tropes: sub!idol, succubus!AU Word Count: 1.3K Contains: mention of the existence of sexual assault (no details), mind reading (kinda), demon contracts/summoning, somnophilia, big dick!Mingi, oral (m. receiving), scratching, reference to porn-watching and masturbation, pet names (kitten, pet, sweet angel, toy), unprotected sex, creampie, multiple rounds (not overstim though)

Normally, when your kind is summoned by humans, it's by women trying to get back against their assaulters or men who want to sabotage their crush's current relationship. With the obvious downsides of interacting with succubi, men haven't requested for themselves in decades. So, why have you found yourself summoned by the one man who insists he'll survive despite all the warnings?

"No. Send me to someone else, just like people always do."

The tall man sitting against the bed's headboard insists, "Let me choose for myself. If my life is at risk, that's my call. I'd like for you to bed me."

"Why in Hell's great name would you want to risk your life for some sex? I assure you, it's not special enough to place your life on the line for."

No, wait. Why are you even fighting him on it? He had to do a lot to summon you, so he had plenty of time to change his mind, and yet he's still so adamant about it. Who are you to deny him? Especially when you came here to eat anyway.

Cutting him off midway through his monologue you weren't listening to, you cave, "You know what, fine. I have to start when you're asleep; I'm sure you know that. So fall asleep and I'll do it."

Happily, the lanky man slides under the covers with the biggest smile on his face. Without the context you know, you would've assumed he met the love of his life or scored his dream job based on that smile.

Strangely enough, he falls asleep rather quickly. Hovering over him, you peek into his mind to find some of his desires. In this way, you learn his name, his urge to be used, and some of the names he'd like to be called. Finding more than enough substance to use, you move the covers off of him to find him in nothing but a loose pair of boxers. You rub him through the fabric until a sizeable bulge forms. The scent of his eagerness fills your nose as you lower his underwear and release your meal.

Starting slowly, you leave kitten licks upon his tip while stroking his length. Although you've seen countless appendages - human and otherwise - this one has a length you only find on creatures who had to adapt after struggles to mate, surely not in humans. You enjoy his small whines and twitches as he reacts to your tender touches in his sleep. Dragging your hand down his thigh, you find muscles perfect to grab hold of. When you move that hand back up to his waist, you begin to understand his desires more. With each simple touch, his body reacts in multiple ways - tensing, twitching, whining, and even flailing around at times. It almost feels like he's meant to be used for others' enjoyment.

Learning enough about him, you increase the intensity. As you suck on his tip, you drag your fingertips around his waist, your nails scratching him enough to mark but not quite enough to tear the skin. With these increased sensations, his whimpering gets louder, even so much as mumbling incoherently in his sleep.

You move up to look at his face, checking to make sure he still hasn't woken up, and ask him, "A deep sleeper? Is this how you want to be used?"

Upon kissing his temple, you gain the answer for yourself as you witness him watching somnophiliac porn to pleasure himself. With a giggle, you find the new information as delectable as his massive size. You return to his crotch with a newfound mission. Sloppily, you continue giving him oral with the sole intention to prepare him for your pussy.

As your saliva glistens on his length, you position yourself above him. With your hands resting on his chest for balance, you lower yourself onto him, feeling the addictive stretch as you take all of him in. Settling onto his lap, you watch his face contort from the sensations. You stay still as he twitches inside of you.

"Shh... don't worry, kitten. You'll get what you want." You cup his face and lean in to kiss his nose before adding in a whisper, "Just be a good little pet and be patient."

After repositioning yourself upright again, you allow your natural urges to win. You grind yourself on him, thinking only of your own pleasure, exactly like he wants you to do regardless. As his whines grow to a higher pitch, you work yourself faster, enjoying the sexuality you're gaining from the insane man who requested you for himself despite all the warnings from his ancestors.

Suddenly, his hands wrap around your butt, his fingertips molding the soft plushness. Looking down, you see him looking lovingly up at you with barely-awake eyes. Averting your gaze, you lift your chin to the ceiling and focus on feeling him inside of you. With him now awake, you flex your muscles to tighten around him, wanting to play with him more. In stark contrast to the high-pitched whines from his sleeping form, he releases a deep, throaty growl as he feels you grip him tighter.

"Oh, sweet angel, that sound is music to my ears. Keep it up and I'll suck your soul out with your juices. Be careful, now."

Through gritted teeth and a fuzzy mind, he muses, "Take it. It's already yours."

Fueled by his lust, you focus on his enjoyment for a moment to continue hearing his magical noises. You adjust your movements to be better for him and work him to his first high. As his seed shoots up into you, his fingernails dig into your flesh and his back arches from the pleasure. Curses mix into the devilishly good noises erupting from his throat.

You lean forward and lock lips with him as you return to moving in ways that'll pleasure you. You dip your tongue into his mouth to occupy his mind, trying to remove his focus from his sensitive dick still getting attention despite the violent orgasm moments ago. You hear him beg in between your lips, unsure whether he wants you to stop or give him more. When he glides his hands up your back, you understand that he wants to make things more intimate, so you console him.

"My lovely toy, you asked me to play with you. Are you already done playing? Should we stop?"

"Not stop. Just a break. Please, let me recover for a few minutes. That was the hardest orgasm I've ever had; it was almost painful."

"Almost? You weren't in pain, kitten?" Shocked, as you often leave your victims in tears with their first orgasm, you halt all movement to look at him.

"N-no. It only stung for maybe a second. I'll be ready again in a few minutes. I'm sorry I need to recover."

Running a hand through his hair and removing the strands that stick to his forehead from the sweat, you admit, "Don't apologize, Mingi. You're stronger than I expected. Most men are in tears already. I'm amazed, not upset."

Sure enough, his grip loosens after only four minutes of waiting, and he asks you to move again. Despite the intensity of his previous orgasm, he still wants more. With a smirk, you understand why he called you for himself, even if he didn't quite know himself.

As the night continues, you earn three more orgasms from the beast of a human, following the same cycle of rest between them. Not a single tear falls from his eye, and you find yourself full before you can completely exhaust him. Due to this, you aren't allowed to return to hell to seek out another victim, so you decide to help each other out by continuing your service with him as a demon contract rather than your typical succubus call.

Now tethered to him until he wishes to release you, you find yourself itching in anticipation for the nights to come - something you've never expected to do with a simple human. But, he's clearly not just a simple human, not with that libido and stamina combination.

#cultofdionysusnet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi smut #song mingi smut #sub!ateez #sub!kpop #sub!idol #sub!mingi

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (25)

Beach House Shenanigans

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 25- W/c 5.1k- This chapter contains 18+ Smut

Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @aliherreraaa @aru-son (Comment if you want to be added)

Beach House Shenanigans

Keeping to your promise to Wanda, you quickly and thoroughly coated your body in sun cream, ready to spend a length of time in the blaring heat. Your feet sank slightly into the soft sand, the small grains moving under you as you walked towards the sea where the others were. When you could feel the sand become wet, your face scrunched up a little at the weird sensation of it on the soles of your feet, swiftly making your way into the water, a sharp intake of breath leaving you as the water was a lot colder than you expected.

"Y/n's here!" Tommy shouted, swimming over to you while you slowly walked towards where he was, his arm going to your shoulders as he held onto you for support, the water not relatively deep yet.

"I am," you chuckle out at his enthusiasm, "And I'm ready to play," your tone was excited, matching his overwhelming amount of energy, another exclamatory leaving him as he gains his mother, brother, and uncle's attention. Your gaze meets Wanda's, the striking green softening when you swim with her son towards them, her lig tugging into a smile at the joyful expression on your face.

It was a lot harder than you anticipated to keep your gaze on her face, the exposed skin on display enticing you to look, her swimsuit not too revealing but leaving enough to the imagination and oh you were imagining many things. She seems to catch how your gaze drifts down to her neck, watching the water droplets slowly trickling down the slightly tanned skin, following them as they trail lower, across her collarbones, almost at her-

"Let's play a game," Billy cheers eagerly after Pietro mutters something in his ear, his eyes turning to you, mischief etched onto his face as he raises his brow at you in a knowing way. It's quickly decided from there on, Wanda going on Pietro's shoulders as the twin's take turns on yours, trying to push their mother off Pietro but not doing too well at succeeding. You chuckle when it's Billy's turn, the twin significantly less emphatic than his brother as he shyly climbs onto your shoulders, holding on with a death grip as he seems to be nervous. You hold his hands, now in the shallower water, not too shallow that if anyone fell they'd hit the floor, but not as deep as where you were swimming, Pietro having to crouch to allow Wanda to meet Billy's height.

"Come on Dorogoy," Wanda encourages, Pietro walking them closer as she softly pushes the twin on your shoulders, your body keeping you both upright. She senses his nerves and goes to grab his hands, gently playing with him that way, a timid smile on his face before he asks to come down, Tommy extremely excited to have another turn.

He practically climbs onto you to get onto your shoulders, his legs loosely pressed against you compared to Billy's secure grip, his arms already reaching for his mother, a competitive glint washing over in her eyes as Tommy tries to win. Despite being the caring and loving mother, Wanda doesn't let him win, far too competitive to do that on this occasion, Tommy's face scrunching up into concentration as he uses all his strength to try and push Wanda off Pietro's shoulders. You can tell Wanda still goes a little easy on him though, her pushes soft and careful until she decides it's time to win, her push taking you by surprise, both you and Tommy falling back into the water, a loud splash indicating the older twin's victory.

The angelic laugh of Wanda reached your ears as you reemerged to the surface, Tommy groaning in defeat, a massive smile still engraved onto his and Billy's, who was with his grandfather sat in the shallow bit, face at the fun they were having. The gentle sound you loved so much soon turned to a surprised yelp, Pietro standing up suddenly, a low and taunting chuckle escaping him as he walked further into the water.

"Don't you dare Pietro," she semi shouts, holding onto him as he shakes his shoulders, trying to knock her off balance.

"Don't what Sestra?" he says innocently, wrapping his arms around her legs and securing a grip on her.

"nay bud mudakom (Don't be an asshole)," she grits out, not wanting to be a part of whatever her brother was scheming.

Before she could utter another irritated phrase at him, he dropped down into the water, taking Wanda with him, and held her under for a bit before emerging from the water, both gasping for breath, her hand slapping him at his annoying, but amusing to you, actions.

"Cyka," She huffed out, catching her breath and pushing back the soaking strands of hair in her face, glaring down at her brother who just looked at her with a triumphant smile that soon turned mischievous again. Out of nowhere, Pietro practically threw her off his shoulders into the water, a loud, unapproving noise escaping her before she splashed into the cool sea, her appearing at the surface again with a dangerous look aimed at her brother. The look quickly softened at the sound of the twins in a fit of laughter, an amused chuckle escaping you helping calm her nerves as she swam past her brother, purposely kicking her leg out at him before coming up to you, her arms wrapping around your waist.

"He's so lucky the twin's are here," she mutters before pressing a kiss to your lips, the twins busy playing with him now, giggling about what their uncle just did, Wanda now entirely yours.

"Don't kill your brother please," you murmur softly, her arms snaking further around your waist as she pulls you closer, guiding you both towards the deeper part of the water to be alone. You have to control yourself as you feel her hands against your bare back, your eyes flickering back down to her neck as a few more drops of water trickle down her skin, glistening in the sunlight.

"My eyes are up here Detka," she teases, lifting your chin with her finger, pressing her lips against yours once more, pulling back with an indecipherable expression, her annoyance quickly fading in your presence. "What were you and Pietro up to earlier?" she asks, her hands drifting a little lower, knowing no one could see you both. You swallow nervously, her eyes peering through her lashes into your own, her eyes flickering between your lips and eyes.

"What?" you manage out, guilt written all across your face as Wanda pulls you even closer, her breasts pressed up against yours as she smirks at you, her tongue swiping over her bottom lip to wet it.

"Detka," she sighs out, purposely lowering her voice, "I know you are both up to something, so you might as well just tell me," her mouth gently bites down on your ear lobe when she finishes speaking, her lips then pressing against your neck ever so softly, before trailing across your jaw, lips then ghosting yours. "Come on Detka, be a good girl for me," she chuckles at the small, needy groan that leaves you, your eyes significantly darker at her teasing.

"Wanda," you murmur out, losing yourself in the various shades of green that were swirling with lust. "We're not-I'm not," you stutter out, unsure of how to form words at the way she was staring into your eyes, your body practically burning as her hands drift even lower, cupping your ass and pressing you against her body.

"Are you sure Dorogaya?" she rasps out and it's sinful that she's teasing you like this. "Think about it, Moya Lyubov, you don't want me to punish you again, do you?" her tone borders a mocking and condescending one, further causing arousal to pool between your legs at her dominance.

"I..." your mouth parts but no more words form, lost in thought when you focus on her fingers drawing random patterns onto the skin of your inner thighs, her smirking sultrily at you as she awaits a response, "Pietro wants me to be a distraction so he can dunk you again." The words are blurted out when Wanda's mouth hovers mere millimetres away from yours, her smirk turning into a teasing smile as you gave into her wishes, her eyebrow raising at her brother involving you in his plans.

"Oh did he now?" she mutters out, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, letting her tongue swipe your lips teasingly to earn another desperate noise before pulling back, revelling in working you up. "Such a good girl for me Detka," she praises, your cheeks instantly turning red at the husky voice, "I think you deserve something later, don't you?" The suggestiveness isn't missed by you, wild and lustful thoughts flickering through your mind at her promise.

"Yes," you sigh out and it's needy, the tone making Wanda smile as well as the way you were currently staring at her like she was the only thing in the world you needed to live.

"I thought you'd agree," she chuckles out, making you smile shyly as her hands return to your waist, actions now innocent as you bury your face at the crook of her neck, trying to keep your thoughts pure to ease the throbbing heat between your thighs. "What's wrong?" she asks teasingly, knowing full well why you were hiding your face.

"Stop it," you grumble, her hands sliding up and down your sides softly while she presses a kiss to your wet hair.

"Come on, we need to get Pietro back." You laugh against her skin, the older twins never passing up on an opportunity to mess with the other.

***

"When do you want me to distract her?" you ask while swimming up to Pietro in a hushed voice, Wanda subtly watching your movements for the signal. You swim up behind the man, forcing him to turn around and face you, his smile widening at your words.

"Now would be a good time," his tone excited, his gaze remaining on you as you push your arms out, seemingly trying to keep afloat to the man, Wanda making her way over quietly at the signal. "I think she's gotten over my earlier dunk," he snickers out, laughing to himself at his antics, an amused smile sneaking onto your face when you can see Wanda getting closer, her body slipping deeper into the water, ready to terrify her brother.

"What's the signal going to be?" you ask, his brows furrowing a little, "So you know when to come over."

"Well, you could-" A scream interrupts his words as he's pulled under the water, Wanda splashing out of the water, laughing to herself once she's let go of her brothers leg, the silver haired man glaring at his sister who swims over to you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"You cyka," he mutters towards you both, Wanda smirking from over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he pushes back his wet hair from out of his eyes. "This starts war," he grumbles, furthering Wanda's fit of laughter, Natalya's voice interrupting the moment,

"What shenanigans are you up to?" she asks her children from the beach as they swim back, your brows raising at her pronunciation of the word. To say she butchered it would have been too kind, an endearing smile on your face though at her attempt, her accent making it difficult to say.

"Shenanigans, Mama," Wanda corrects softly, thinking back to how they would watch sitcoms in Sokovia to learn English, her mother rolling her eyes before saying something in Sokovian, shutting up the teasing comments that were about to leave Pietro's mouth, his father unable to stop his laughter at his wife's words, the twins and you looking at each other in confusion.

You catch Wanda's stare as she tries not to laugh at her mother's rambling, her playfully pinching her son's ear making him groan at her, Wanda explaining to you and the boys vaguely, "Mama said a bad word," the twins laugh at that, going to save Pietro while you simply smile at Wanda, her arm wrapping around your waist as everyone leaves the water, ready to shower and get clean for dinner, the plan being to go to the local restaurant soon.

You were currently laying on the bed, waiting for Wanda to finish showering, your fingers playing with the stray threads at the end of your shorts while you day dreamed, unaware of the ensuite door opening.

"Where did you put my stuff Detka?" she asks, your body jumping slightly at being knocked out of your pointless thoughts, your head lifting to look at her, going blank at the sight of her. 

The towel was haphazardly thrown over her body to cover herself, the top of it slowly creeping down as she tried to shuffle her arms to keep it in place, the movement causing her breasts to be pushed up, your gaze remaining on the enticing skin exposed. Your mouth merely parted, no words leaving your lips as your eyes blatantly raked over her body, unable to hide the enamoured and awed glint in them, the lust and desire soon swirling in them as you finally met her gaze.

"Stuff?" you ask, not entirely sure what was going on, your mind completely out of order at the moment. She chuckles a little at your state, walking closer to the bed, towering above your body, your eyes peering up at her, submission written across your face.

"My suitcase Detka," she explains, your cheeks blushing at the obvious answer to the question. When you don't respond, still struggling with the gay panic, she continues, "I can't exactly go to the restaurant like this Dorogaya," she smirks before adding the last part, "I'm sure you wouldn't want people staring at me." 

A wave of jealousy hit you square in the face, the thought of others gazing lustfully at her not something you would want, your mind getting its act together before getting up from the bed and retrieving her case, her quickly taking out some clothes before returning to the bathroom, winking at you playfully before shutting the door, a groan leaving you at the heat that had built between your thighs once again.

Eventually, everyone was ready to leave, the entire family soon seated in the restaurant, Billy and Tommy being entertained by you while the others talk, mainly Natalya gushing over how her children were both going to be thirty tomorrow, unable to stop herself from telling more embarrassing stories from throughout their lives. Pietro mentioned the table story, trying to bring it up, catching your attention, but it was quickly shot down by Wanda, her going up to order more drinks for the adults, dragging Pietro with her, not trusting him with you.

You were talking to Tommy when you looked up, seeing that Pietro had returned with most of the drinks balanced in his grasp somehow, a small impressed expression taking over your face before it turned to confusion, looking behind him to still see Wanda at the bar with the drinks for you and her. There was a tall man with her, his hand slicking back his brown hair while he leaned against the bar, a charming smirk engraved on his face as he spoke to Wanda, a polite smile on her face as he continued to talk to her.

Pietro caught your stare, making a teasing comment that only you could hear about being jealous, your gaze immediately flickering away from the captivating woman, dismissing his comments and focussing back on the twins. After a considerable amount of time had passed, the minute lasting a lifetime, your gaze went back to her, Wanda seemingly interested in the man's words as she laughed at something he said, jealousy coursing through you.

You ignored the feeling, knowing that Wanda wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but it still gnawed at you while she was over there, the man blatantly looking at her in a lustful way when she'd turn her face away.

Soon, she returned with the drinks, your gaze remaining on the twins as her body slid next to yours on the end of the booth seats you were in, her arm wrapping around your waist.

"I could feel you staring, Detka," she whispers teasingly in your ear, her lips softly pressing against your cheek, her arm pulling your body closer to yours, a shy smile on your face as she caught you. "I'm yours, there's no need to be jealous," she mutters gently, your shoulders shrugging against her.

"I wasn't jealous," you reply back, the twins and other family members engrossed in conversation while she hums teasingly in response, pretending to agree.

"Of course you weren't," she laughs out, going to press a kiss against your lips when Pietro and the twins make a disgusted noise, you and Wanda rolling your eyes at their immature antics.

"I was just thirsty," you say, as if it were obvious, before taking a sip of the drink she brought you, her laughing at your excuse before placing a kiss to your forehead to avoid any more disgusted noises erupting from the three childish figures.

Before you knew it, you were stuffed to the brim, your body leaning against Wanda's as you all digested the delicious food served in the restaurant, Tommy and Pietro looking as if they were about to pass out from how much they managed to eat. Billy teased his brother, the other twin groaning, complaining how his stomach felt like it was going to explode making you all laugh, Pietro muttering in agreement and refusing to move for as long as possible.

Despite their current state, the two trouble makers were the first to suggest dessert, Wanda and Natalya rolling their eyes at their children's behaviour, you smiling at Billy who was also interested in having some dessert, asking if you wanted to share something with him. You and Billy shared some ice cream, wanting something cool in the still warm air, the other adults deciding against it besides Pietro, who ordered two sugar filled treats to share with Tommy, the smaller twin definitely going to have a sugar rush soon.

As predicted, Tommy suddenly buzzed with excitement on the way back to the house, Billy the complete opposite as he tried to keep up with his brother's energy, clearly not succeeding. You knew how the boy found going out exhausting, sensing he had some sort of anxiety as he tried to stay as close as he could to you, Wanda and yourself finding the action endearing as he grew attached to you.

You helped the tired boy out of the car, Tommy jumping out before running upstairs to change into his pyjamas, wanting to join the adults on the deck for the 'adult talk' as he was still experiencing the sugar high. You smirked when you made it into the twins' room with Billy, him deciding he was going to sleep instead, Tommy seemingly starting to deflate as he slowly pulled on his shirt, fatigue suddenly kicking in. Wanda soon joined you upstairs in their room to say goodnight to Billy, watching in amusement as Tommy trudged downstairs, wrapping himself in a blanket as the air was much cooler now outside, flopping dramatically onto the chair next to his grandmother who wrapped her arm around him, her free hand holding onto her drink that was almost knocked over by the boy's actions.

You didn't even bother sitting down, instead helping the boy back upstairs into bed, telling Wanda to stay with her family while you helped him get into bed. It only took a few minutes to get the boy to brush his teeth and get into bed, his brother flat out in the other one, small, quiet snores already leaving him making you smile while tucking the other boy in.

"Goodnight Y/n," he tiredly murmurs, whispering back to him the same before silently leaving the room, making your way back to the deck to enjoy some time with Wanda.

She opened her arms and the blanket she stole from Tommy up, letting you slip in front of her body as you shared a seat, your back flush against her front as she wrapped her arms around your body from behind, your head leaning back against her shoulders as you relaxed into the embrace.

You watched with a smile on your face as Natalya moved closer to her husband, leaning her head against his shoulder as casual conversation mixed with the quiet sounds of nature nearby, the sea just about audible as small waves gently crashed over one another. Pietro seemed to be more relaxed and less mischievous now, seemingly reaching the end of his own sugar high as he relaxed into his chair, putting his feet up onto the small table nearby to get comfy.

The conversation was pleasant as the time passed, Natalya asking you about Natasha and Yelena once finding out you knew Melina, also asking how her old friend was and amazed at how small the world seemed to be. The talk then turned to your exams that were going to be soon, then your university choices, Wanda saving you as she knew you were stressing over the amount of pressure you were going to be under soon, you thanking her by squeezing your interlocked fingers under the blanket, her head resting against yours as the conversation soon moved elsewhere.

Around half an hour later, Pietro called it quits, deciding to go to bed which then inspired his parents to follow suit, you and Wanda deciding to stay out a little longer, enjoying the view of the night sky. Everyone bidded each other goodnight, Erik reminding Wanda to lock the door before coming up, leaving you and the older woman alone, your head tilting back to gaze into her eyes.

Her lips softly pressed down against yours, her hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer, a smile sneaking onto both of your faces as you parted from the innocent kiss.

"I think I promised someone something earlier," she rasps out, gazing into your eyes while a smirk replaces the pure smile, her hands slipping under your shirt, warm fingers meeting your skin.

"Oh, did you?" you sigh out, trying to act nonchalant as her nails scratch against your abdomen softly, her fingers trailing lower until they reach the end of your shorts, tracing random patterns against the exposed skin of your thighs, the blanket covering all of her movements.

"I did," she hums out, pressing a sensual kiss to your neck, a low groan escaping you when her hands inch high up your inner thighs, caressing the skin she could get to with your shorts still on. "You were such a good girl for me Detka," she purrs into your ear, a small whimper escaping you at her words, the praise causing arousal to pool between your thighs, her touch burning into your skin as her lips meet your neck to litter it in hot, open-mouthed kisses. "Always so good for me," she lets her fingers move to the button of your shorts, her fingers toying with the waistband to tease you before deftly unfastening the item, a ragged breath escaping you. "Do you want me to take care of you Detka?"

"Here?" you whisper out, tilting your head back to meet her eyes, groaning quietly at how her eyes were completely darkened with lust and desire, nothing but hunger evident across her features. You weren't sure whether you would get caught here, not wanting for anyone to catch you both.

"Don't worry Dorogaya, no ones going to see us," she whispers, easing your nerves, allowing the thrill of the situation to kick in, the heat between your thighs incessant. "Is this ok?" she murmurs softly, ensuring that you were alright with the situation, her lips still pressing against your neck in a manner that was driving you insane.

"Yes," you sigh out, her tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat, feeling you groan at the sensation and smirking into the warm skin of your throat.

Her fingers slip back under the waistband of the fabric, pushing the item down your legs so you could part them for her, her words further causing you to throb and clench around nothing.

"That's it Detka, spread your legs for me," you groan once more at her words, doing as she asks and spreading them, her finger brushing over the wet patch of your panites, a low moan escaping you. "Fuck Detka, you're so wet," she husks out, mouth at the shell of your ear, a slightly louder moan escaping you. Her hand slides up your neck, her hand covering your mouth and guiding your head backwards to lean against her body, her eyes meeting yours. "As much as I love your pretty moans Dorogaya, we have to be quiet," she whispers, you nodding in agreement but moving your hand to keep hers pressed against your mouth, enjoying the idea of her keeping you quiet.

Her fingers go back to teasing you through the soaked fabric, her index finger circling your clit slowly through the material, your hips trying to grind against her while her hand muffles the lewd noises that escape you, your eyes admiring her as she gazes at your submissive state, dominance radiating off of her.

"I love you," she rasps out, another noise being ripped out of your throat because fuck that was hot. Normally when she'd say the words, your heart would melt a little, warmth filling you but as her fingers slid your panties down, her voice low and raspy, you couldn't stop the gush of arousal that settled between your thighs, desperate for her touch. "I love you so much," she purrs out, her fingers swiping through your folds, gathering the abundance of arousal there and coating her digits in it, slowly sliding them up and down your entrance to tease you. "I love this body so much," she moves her mouth to your ear, whispering in a sultry tone directly into your ear, your mind fogged with the thought of her.

"Please," the plea is muffled by her hand, the older woman still hearing it and smirking to herself at how needy you were for her, your hips trying to move up in search of more friction.

"I love how it reacts to my touch," she continues her torment, you groaning against her hand as she brushes the pad of her finger over your clit, your hips bucking up suddenly, emphasising her point. "How it gets so desperate for me," she moans lowly against the shell of your ear when she slides a finger inside you, the warm and wet feeling surrounding her digits so hot to her. You moan against her palm at the feeling of her long, slender digit filling you up, teasingly pulling it back out at a leisurely pace before thrusting it back in and curling it against your g-spot, Wanda being patient with you and trying to drive your body mad with her slow, deliberate pace. "How you get so desperate for me," she can feel your hand pressing against her side, holding onto her as if your life depended on it.

She lowers her mouth to kiss your neck again, her sucking gently on the skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to have you whimpering at the feeling of her mouth on you, another finger effortlessly sliding into your soaking core.

The feeling of her fingers stretching you, pumping into you a little faster caused pleasure to wash throughout your body, a desperate noise leaving you when she curled them both beautifully inside you, hitting a spot you didn't even know existed.

"Fuck, you like that Dekta?" she sighs out sinfully, her tone low and raspy, accent lacing her words in the best way possible and fuck you were lost in the thought of her, nothing but the feeling of her inside you floating around in your mind. "You take my fingers so well," Wanda murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before moving her mouth back to your ear, knowing how much it turns you on, taking a risk with her next words. "I can't wait to fill you up with a strap on one day."

A broken moan escapes you at her filthy words, the idea of her fucking into you flashing across your mind, clenching down hard and desperately around her fingers, back arching against her body.

"To take you from behind, have you begging me to come," she can tell how much you like the idea by the way your hips move frantically against her hand, her palm brushing your clit with each buck of your hips, driving you closer towards your powerful release. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" she teased and its condescending but you love it, nodding against her body as her dirty talks continues, both of you enjoying this new dynamic "You want me to treat you like my little slut," A loud moan is ripped from the back of your throat, Wanda's hand only just muffling the lewd sound, her fingers mercilessly thrusting into you as she can feel you're teetering on the edge of pleasure. "Come on Detka, come all over my fingers, make a mess on them," on command, your body tenses against her, a string of moans muffled by her palm as your legs tremble against her hands, thighs closing around it as you ride out of your aftershocks, body still shaking a little at how powerful the release was, pleasure and euphoria coursing through your veins, body slumping against hers.

She carefully moves her hand, pressing her lips to yours softly, your body still trying to recover as it still trembles ever so slightly. The older woman murmurs sweet, soft words to coax you back to reality as your head rests at the crook of her neck, panting against the warm skin before pulling back, meeting her softened gaze and claiming her lips passionately but gently. Your hand cups her cheek, deepening the kiss to make it even more intimate, the moment becoming tender and slower.

"Wanda," you sigh out and it's just about audible, your eyes fluttering open as you pull back from the kiss, gazing lovingly into her eyes, the pools of green overflowing with care. You hesitate a little on your words, building up the courage to say what you've been wanting to for ages while admiring her. The moonlight gently illuminates her skin, her green eyes watching with a tenderness as her fingers caress your cheeks, her lips tugging up into a soft smile that adorns her features perfectly. "I love you," you whisper, honesty and passion lacing the words, her smile widening before she leans forwards to claim your lips.

It's soft, it's passionate, it's intimate, it's different from every other kiss you've had and it's addictive. When she pulls back, you surge forwards to claim her lips again, needing to feel them pressed against you, your body turning so that you were straddling her lap, making it easier to claim her lips over and over again. Only when air becomes necessary do you both reluctantly part, both of your chests rising and falling with ragged breaths as you lean your forehead against hers, eyes fluttering shut.

"I love you Detka," she whispers in response, a smile engraved on her face at hearing you say the words, knowing that you were ready and comfortable enough to say them, making her heart melt even more. "Say it again," she whispers playfully, a small laugh escaping you, lips pressing against her briefly.

"I love you," you murmur, her lips stretching into an even bigger smile, "I love you so much Wanda Maximoff, you're all I ever want." She presses her lips back to yours, smiling into the kiss which causes you to as well, the both of you just smiling against each other, your face moving to the crook of her neck, her arms snaking around your waist to pull you closer, savouring the soft embrace.

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #mommy wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda fanfiction #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda smut #wanda maximoff fan fiction #wanda fluff #wanda maximoff fav #dom wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel fanfic series #The Babysitter #Babysitter AU #FLUFF AND SMUT #fluff and romance #fluff and humor #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #Vision #peitro maximoff #natasha romanoff #Angst with a happy ending

[starrystevie]

based on this headcanon i posted previously!

"what do you mean you've never had a valentine?"

eddie rolls his eyes and swings his arms across his front as if to gesture to his entire being at steve's question.

"consider me flattered that you think all this," he gestures again, "would land me a date at all, but it's not like i even want a valentine in the first place."

they glare at each other as steve picks at his cold diner fries and eddie finishes off his strawberry milkshake. they've landed at a stand still, steve trying to figure out how eddie can experience a real valentine's day, and eddie trying to figure out how to talk steve out of whatever sympathy thing he's planning. he opens his mouth to say something, and before he can get a word out, eddie cuts him off.

"whatever you've got cookin' up in that pretty little head of yours, i want you to stop. i don't want a bullshit pity date on a fake holiday that only puts more money in the hallmark ceo's pockets. forget it."

eddie watches as a grin spreads across steve's face and he knows then and there that there's no way in hell steve will forget it.

it's four days later that eddie is packing what is bound to be the best bowl of his life, feet up on the coffee table and the wizard of oz playing faintly in the background, when he hears a knock at the trailer door. he ignores it with a huff and shakes his curls out of his face, bringing the bowl up to his lips only to be cut off by the knocking once more.

"what?!" eddie yells out. he doesn't want to get up and see who it is. he wants to wallow in the weird liminal space of self-pity and anger about capitalism and smoke weed until the flying monkeys in the movie seem even scarier than they already are. he doesn't want to deal with someone when he feels so crushingly lonely-

"it's me!" steve's voice is muffled through the door. "let me in, munson!"

something vaguely hope-shaped catches in eddie's chest before he pushes it away with a deep breath and a shake to clear his head. "open the door yourself, lazy. it's unlocked."

he hears something hit the door, a loud thump that he thinks might be steve kicking the door, and then hears the door handle rattle for a few seconds before steve clearly gives up with a groan.

"come on, a little help here?"

"this better be fucking worth it," he grumbles under his breath. eddie rolls his eyes and set the pipe down on the coffee table next to his pbr with a huff. "fine, fine, i'm coming hold your horses."

he doesn't really know what he is expecting, but steve with his arms wrapped around a bouquet of daisies, a too-big heart shaped box of chocolates, a stuffed bear and a card is at the bottom of the list. he's smiling that smile, the one that eddie takes a mental picture of and files into the steve-shaped folder in his memory every time he sees it, and he has on a stupidly charming button up shirt to go along with it all.

"what." eddie says blankly, the cold february air making him shiver as it hits his bare arms. steve thrusts the gifts towards him with an even brighter smile that has his eyes crinkling and eddie's heart thumping painfully in his chest.

"be my valentine?" steve breathes out and eddie has half a mind to pinch himself.

"steve, i don't-"

"nope," steve responds and pushes past eddie to get into the warmth of the trailer. "you don't get to say no or tell me it's stupid or that today's only a money grab for the corporate elite or whatever-"

eddie balks as steve beelines to the kitchenette to pull out a large glass to put the flowers in. "it is, though."

"-we're going to sit and order a pizza and eat these stupid, over-priced chocolates for dessert, and you're going to like it."

there's butterflies and knots and something that's too close to love fluttering around in his stomach, so eddie sits down on the edge of the arm of the couch and watches as steve finishes adjusting the bouquet.

"daisies?" eddie asks after a beat of silence.

steve beams. "they're your birth flower so i thought..."

dorothy's in the background saying something about not being in kansas and eddie feels the same.

this is all as foreign to him as tin men and scarecrows and wicked witches would be. he's never had anyone, let alone someone like steve fucking harrington, barge into his house and demand a date. he's never wanted anyone to demand a date out of him, especially on valentine's day of all days. he sees steve reach for a phone book and start searching for a pizza delivery number to call and it all feels right in a way that it probably shouldn't.

"are you fucking with me?" eddie asks. his voice feels small.

steve looks up, face smoothing out from determination to something softer, and puts the phone back in the cradle. he hesitates before grabbing the card and teddy bear, this fuzzy brown thing that's holding a heart that says 'i love you beary much', and hands them to eddie.

"not in the slightest," he tells eddie. with a wave of his hand, steve motions for eddie to open the card before pulling his hand up to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail.

the front of the card is simple, just some hearts with a 'be mine' in a fancy script, but it has eddie's breath catching anyway. it's a real card with real stupid hearts and real meaning behind it and it forces him to pause before he can open the rest. he's too cowardly to admit that he's afraid of whatever it could say.

"open it," steve says like it's the easiest thing in the world and eddie pulls his eyes away from the front of the card to see how steve is staring at the paper like it's going to burst into flames. "but don't read it out loud. please."

it's an easy request to follow. with the card open, eddie glances down to see only a few short sentences written and yet it still hits him like an arrow through his goddamn heart.

you're going to think this is a joke, the card starts, but i promise it's not. it's not pity, either. it's just some crazy little thing called love. be my valentine? xo, steve.

eddie can feel how big his eyes are, wide as dinner plates, as he looks between the card and steve who probably won't be hungry for pizza after he finishes chewing off his thumb out of nerves. a laugh sneaks out in a gust of wind through his nose and it has steve wincing despite himself, which has eddie rushing into action.

"you mean it?" he asks, wrapping his hands around steve's shoulders. their eyes meet and steve looks as scared as eddie feels as he nods with a watery laugh of his own.

"yeah, i mean it. you haven't had a valentine and what better way to start than with a harrington that is absolutely nutty over you?"

the tin man is the background singing something about having a heart while eddie's beats out of his chest as steve connects their lips in a soft kiss. and eddie might be against valentine's day, against capitalism and the mass-produced niceties that it brings to the everyday consumer, but if steve keeps pressing into him like this, it might just become his favorite holiday yet.

#under a read more solely for length! #daisies for april cause eddie is an april aries okay #steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #1k

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒.

DAY TWELVE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader, max phillips x oberyn, max phillips x reader x oberyn

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, enemies to lovers

summary: after you left the court and hence Oberyn, no one is eager to forgive you for your betrayal. Especially those closest to you.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: everyone's a vampire including reader, orgies, voyeurism, mlm, threesome, sub!max, switch!reader, dom!oberyn, this is hella explicit btw so read accordingly, rimming, ass play, anal sex (oberyn x max), piv (max x reader), biting, mild mention of blood because vampires

a/n: and this concludes the last day of haunted hoedown! thank you for joining in everyone, I appreciate it! (also this was normally just supposed to be oberyn and reader but oh well, gotta go big am I right?)

Your steps echo down the hall, the ends of your dress trailing behind you, swiping against shiny marble. You’ve hated coming back here. Hated seeing the pity and the mockery in the eyes of the rest of the court. But you had no choice. You knew Oberyn would take you back, in a sick twist of faith, you did belong to him after all. He was a part of you as much as you were a part of him. He had looked at you with anger, betrayal. In a similar fashion, he too had thought you’d left for selfish purposes but it was so much more than that. 

So much more. 

Now you’re basically the errand girl despite your status. You were made to be a guardian. A protector. Lords began to turn humans for this sole purpose. When a human is turned, they are more loyal to the vampire that turned them. The bond would be strong which made most of them lay down their lives for the one who turned them, the one that gave them eternal life. However, like many things, there was a catch: the vampire had to save the human before turning them. It could be from something minimal or something grand, the grander the threat, the more passionate the new vampire would be to protect. 

Of course higher vampires didn’t really care, they just wanted guardians. With time they began to cause the threats that would require the human to be saved themselves. It was a scummy thing to do, but there were no rules dictating otherwise. 

Oberyn was different. You would know, he was the one that had turned you. 

He actually saved his humans, be it from psychological harm or physical, he saved them and gave them a choice. They could live out their lives however they pleased, they didn’t have to be guardians. And despite the choice, they all stayed. Oberyn provided protection, pleasure, and eternal life. 

So everyone stayed. 

Everyone except for you. 

You stand still at the lord’s quarters. You don’t need to see to know what’s happening on the other side. Lustful moans, the sound of skin smacking against skin—sinful sounds that set a wildfire between your legs. You haven’t been touched since you left, your body remembers his touch, how he would linger and taste. . . 

You inhale a sharp breath and knock—loudly. 

“The door is open.” 

Oberyn. He sounds disinterested already. 

You push the large doors open and the sight before you is exactly what you expected. 

Men and women kissing, sucking, fucking. They’re all lost in the pleasure, their moans mixing and becoming a beautiful melody. Your nipple grows tight at the sight, your legs slightly buckling under your weight. 

Oberyn, of course, is playing with his favorite toy. Max Phillips. The younger vampire is sitting between Oberyn’s spread legs, his cock wrapped with the lord’s fingers. They both gaze upon you at the same time, one cold and one heated—though the warmth of that gaze has nothing to do with you and has everything to do with the fist around his length.

Max smiles crookedly, a puff of air escaping his lips as his hips thrust into Oberyn’s fists. The lord’s eyes drop to his lover’s, lips curling with amusement, “Needy.”  

His eyes harden when you clear your throat, “What do you want?” he asks, tone dripping venom. “I am busy, as you can probably tell.” 

“I’ve been informed to tell you the meeting for tonight is rescheduled for tomorrow.” he shoots you a glare and you add. “My lord.” 

You hate calling him that. He never made you call that before, Max also didn’t call him that. It just proved to everyone that you were now nothing but an outsider within your home. Your heart drops. You always hated being an outcast. 

Oberyn’s hand stills on Max’s cock and the latter whines pathetically into the air, a bead of precome trickling down his length and over Oberyn’s knuckles. You meet his gaze. He gazes at you for a second later before commanding the rest to leave. If they’re startled, they don’t show it—they just move the party elsewhere, leaving only you, Oberyn, and Max. 

The younger vampire makes way to leave but Oberyn stops him, “Stay,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down his neck. Max shudders, his cock twitching eagerly. 

You swallow as Oberyn approaches you, his body bare and cock jutting darkly between his legs. You focus your gaze on his face and find it hard not to look down. His smile is mischievous, “You look troubled,” he says. 

“I’m not, my lord,” you add a bit more attitude this time, prompting the raise of his brows. You notice Mac looking towards you curiously, his back against the headboard of the rather large bed. 

“You do understand you brought this upon yourself, do you not?” he says. “I do not enjoy punishing my subjects unless it is for pleasure. You were free and you chose to betray me instead.” 

In your defense, you wouldn’t exactly call what you did a betrayal. 

“I understand.” 

He’s irritated. You can tell by the way his jaw twitches, “Forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you,” he spits out, angry. This time you do look away, feeling too much all at once. “Not only did you leave after your oath, you left to join another court,” he seers. “And then when they throw you to the street what do you do? Come crawling back with your tail between your legs. You took advantage of my kindness and the peace of this court. Pathetic.” 

It all happens in the blink of an eye. Your anger flares, overtakes every fiber of your being, and before you know it the flat of your palm connects with his cheek. The sound of it echoes through the chamber. From the corner of your eyes, you see Max’s eyes going wide, his body going tense as he straightens up to subdue you if need be.  

Your slap hadn’t done much to Oberyn. It had simply resulted in a slight turn of his head, the lack of effect you have on him angers you further, and you attempt to smack him again—

However, as unaffected as he might be, he doesn’t allow it. 

You grit your teeth at the way he holds your wrist, his fingers too tight around your bone. You attempt to snatch your arm back but he doesn’t allow that either, he flashes you his fangs, eyes momentarily turning purple before resuming their warm brown color. 

“Careful there little fox, you don’t want to be angering my favorite guardian now, would you?” 

Your eyes snap to Max who is now standing, a sheet loosely wrapped between his waist. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t look angry only worried. 

Once more you pull your hand to break free of your hold but the effort only makes him smile, showing your fangs, you hiss. “Let go of me, Oberyn.” 

He lets go of the fact that you used his name. 

“Why so angry all of a sudden?” he rolls his tongue over every syllable. “Did you not leave? Did you not go and work for the court who murdered my sister? Do not expect forgiveness.” the pink of his tongue moves over his bottom lip. “I was sad when you left. And when I grow sad. . . I grow angry.” 

“I did not have a choice!” your voice booms against the walls, startling both him and Oberyn, taking advantage of it, you snatch your hand away. “You do not know what’s it like to have a bond you cannot control, to be tethered to you in a way that I would lay down my life for you. He does,” you point at Max, his lips are tight, his gaze hard. You look back to Oberyn. “But you do not. It overwhelmed me Oberyn. I was scared of it. I was scared of feeling so much so suddenly and left because of it. They were the only court that would take me in. No one else dared.” you hiss out. “I did not enjoy it. I did not revel in the fact of being away from my home—from you. I was thrown away because they noticed I purposefully caused more harm than good.” 

His lips part but you don’t allow him to say anything, “You do not get to call me pathetic. Especially since you do not know how it feels to be us.” 

Your heart rams against your chest, your breath coming in short, quick pants. You have no idea what comes after this. Do you leave? Do you say something else? Do you apologize? Your thoughts are a hurricane, scattered and constantly spinning. 

Oberyn’s gaze lingers a second longer before turning around and heading to the bed, “Very well,” he says, pulling Max back between his legs. “Come and join us, little fox. You want to, I saw it in your eyes when you first came in.” 

Your mouth opens, closes, and then opens back up again, “Is that all you have to say?” 

Oberyn’s hands move down the inside of Max’s thighs, he still seems on edge but melts when he squeezes his plump flesh. A fresh wave of arousal dampens the fabric of your underwear. 

“You should have told me before you left,” he says and kisses Max’s neck before he continues. “I would have tended to you, make the process easier. I would have looked after you. I know how hard your. . . previous life was. However, I still can not fully forgive you for leaving to work with them. No matter how much chaos you might have caused there. That will take time. But. . . in the meanwhile,” Oberyn suddenly grips Max is jaw, forcing the other’s gaze onto you. He slips two fingers into his mouth and Max sucks greedily, the sheets falling away from his waist. “You may resume being my guard again. This one. . . this one has missed you greatly.” 

Heat blossoms all over the expanse of your skin, your arousal growing as Max averts his eyes, “Has he now?” you mutter, knowing that they both heard you cristal clearly. Oberyn’s grin is predatory. 

“He has,” Oberyn roughly jerks Max’s cock and he moans around the thick fingers in his mouth. “Look how aroused he gets with you watching, such a good boy.” 

Max’s hips jerk and a loud whine rattle in his throat, Oberyn only cackles, “Tell her.” he commands as he pulls out his fingers. 

“I am not telling her that,” Max says, the first words you’ve heard him speak of since you entered the chamber. “Just because you are eager to forgive and forget doesn’t mean I have to.” 

“Such a brat,” Oberyn hisses, eyes finding yours. “Well, I guess you need to make him forgive you,” he teases. “I would start by sucking his cock.” 

Max’s lips split into a wide smile, “That might work.” 

You fight against the urge to roll your eyes, your lips tug in a half smile, your heart feeling light and playful. Both of their eyes eat you up as you drop your charcoal dress to the floor. Max’s cock twitches repeatedly within Oberyn’s palm, eager to feel your lips. You share his enthusiasm as you climb the bed. The sheets soft like velvet under your knees. 

“You want me to suck your cock?” you tease and pry away Oberyn’s fingers. Max doesn’t say a word, lips shut tight as he pushes himself back further into Oberyn’s chest. The lord grins. He teases the sensitive skin between Max’s ear with his fangs. “If you don’t tell me I can’t give you what you want.” 

He snarls, “Yes, I want you to suck my cock,” then he adds with a smug grin. “I’ve missed seeing you gag around it princess.” 

You try very hard to hide how his words affect you but it’s for naught. His grin only widens at the sight of your very visible shudder. When you drop your gaze to his torso, he quickly forces your gaze back up by sneaking two fingers under your chin. He holds your gaze only for a moment before sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pushing you down. 

You slide your tongue underneath as you take him into your mouth. You’ve forgotten how much you had to part your lips to wrap your lips around him. Max groans loudly, thrusting shallowly between your lips. 

“Does that feel good, pet?” Oberyn asks Max. “You’ve missed that eager mouth a lot, huh?” 

Max makes an affirmative sound and presses his lips against Oberyn’s, you hear both their moans as they devour each other, tongues lacing together in a messy claim of mouths. 

You take him further down your throat and pull back, Max breaks the kiss with a gasp and looks down. He watches you with blown eyes, his brows furrowing with pleasure as you allow a sting of spit to fall to the slit. Oberyn continuously decorates the other’s neck with fleeting kisses, soothing his nerves. Your eyes fluttering but not closing, you push his cock to his pelvis and lick the skin that leads to his hole. A choked moan rips from his throat and you head Oberyn shushing him immediately after. 

Stroking his cock, you press your lips against his cute little hole and trace the rim with the tip of your tongue. He follows the movements of your tongue, inching closer, whimpers of your name fall one by one, you fight the urge to touch yourself and instead, you push your tongue inside. 

“F—Fuck,” he gasps. “Shit shit— that feels so good, don’t stop—” 

You smile as you force your tongue deeper, Oberyn chuckles, “You never get this desperate with me,” he says sounding almost jealous. His next words are directed at you. “Get him wet and ready for me.” 

You hum with approval, spitting again before pressing your mouth. Max ruts into your tight fist, whining and groaning as you prepare him for Oberyn. You feel his hand in your hair, his needy tugs while he attempts to both push you away and pull you closer. You squeeze his thighs, thrust your tongue deeper into him. 

His back arches and his body shakes, parting away, you look at him through heavy lashes. Max looks at you with a hooded gaze, swimming in lust, he only understands the look you’re giving him when you slowly open your mouth and show your fangs, “I missed the taste of you on my tongue,” you say, breath hitching. 

Oberyn looks at you with interest and amusement, his gaze quickly moves to Max. 

He blinks heavily, lips parting, he spreads his legs further, giving you a delicious view of his flesh, “Go ahead,” he murmurs. 

You accept the invitation gleefully. You kiss the inside of his thigh before grazing the sharp edges of your teeth against it. Only those who truly care to sink their teeth into one another because it is done out of choice, not hunger. You lick the salt of his skin before biting in, you feel the puncture of skin and flesh against your teeth, the flood of warm blood trickling down your throat. Max shudders, with the corner of your eyes you see him burrowing into Oberyn’s neck who is holding him tightly as you swallow. 

Max tastes sweet. He always has, despite his sometimes unagreeable personality. Warm blood trickles from the corner of your lips, down your throat, he kisses and nips at Oberyn’s strong neck. 

When you part, you’re whole again. 

“Come here,” Oberyn mutters and without waiting, he grabs you by the neck and crashes your lips together. He slides his tongue over yours, tasting Max, he swallows the moans you make. Meanwhile, Max’s fingers trace between your wet folds, swirl around your clit. He bites the top swell of your breast and you flinch, yet leans into the sharp pain at the same time. 

“I want you so bad,” Max groans between swallows. “You taste so sweet.” 

“Do you want him to fuck you?” Oberyn asks against your lips. He already knows the answer but you nod helplessly. “Let us switch places then.” 

You lay down where the two were sitting not moments ago. Max settles between your legs and as he does you still feel the throb caused by his fangs above your breast. He leans in quickly, as if you might vanish into the night, and claims your lips, tasting himself, you, and Oberyn on your tongue. 

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he says with a slurred speech. “Gonna fuck you so good that you’re never gonna leave again.” 

Your heart sinks a little further down your chest, beating painfully at his words. You nod because you don’t know what else to say or do. The heft of his cock lays heavy over the softness of your stomach. You arch your back gently, wishing to see his face twisting with pleasure instead of bitterness. It works, it must have because, at the graze of your skin, his lips part with a gasp. 

“She won’t,” Oberyn answers instead. “I think our little fox learned her lesson about leaving.” 

You swallow thickly and nod. You fear that maybe forgiveness is most certainly out of reach—that Oberyn could never forgive you, not truly. He drags you away from your thoughts with a touch to your lips, your eyes flutter as he slightly parts your lips and feels your fang under his finger. 

He doesn’t say anything but the gesture is enough to relax your guilt-ridden heart. Oberyn’s gaze shifts to Max’s back. He makes a show of spitting into his hand and jerking himself, a fresh wave of arousal wets your thighs at the sight. 

“Do you think you will be able to take me?” 

Max nods and pushes himself back to grind against his lord’s cock, “Yes,” he breathes out. 

“Good. I am feeling impatient today.” 

You watch breathlessly as Max’s face morphs into one of absolute pleasure. His brows furrow and jaw drops, face growing slack. He moans loudly only an inch away from your face, his breath fanning your heated skin. You cradle his face and pull him to your lips. You two meet in a sloppy kiss as Oberyn buries himself to the hilt. The other man shudders and gasps into your mouth, he falls into your neck. Your lips snug against his forehead, you reach between your sweaty bodies and wrap your fingers around his weeping cock, you guide it to your core, urging him to bury his cock deep into you. 

“I thought you were going to fuck me so good that I would never want to leave again, Maxy. Show me what I missed.” 

He whimpers but manages to push himself up, Oberyn keeps still as Max thrusts forward, sliding into you with ease. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. He always stretches you so thoroughly, filling you up perfectly. Max adorns your neck with kisses and soon Oberyn pulls back and pushes forward, the movement forcing Max to fuck you even deeper. 

You thread your fingers through Max’s hair and pull him closer, making sure he can kiss and suck on your neck as he thrusts into you. His hips move sloppily thanks to Oberyn pistoning from behind, the heat building quickly between your bodies as he fucks further and further into the other. Oberyn’s hands are all over Max, gripping his hips and guiding his motions as he fucks him hard. Oberyn grunts and drops down to sink his teeth into there Max’s neck meets his shoulder. Max’s hips stutter with a pitiful whine tearing from his throat. Oberyn feasts on his blood, moaning into his veins as his hips hammer into him. You can feel the sheer strength in Oberyn’s thrusts, and it only adds to the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through you.

A sudden pulse of pleasure washes over you as you clench around him, Max moans out loud. 

“Fuck baby, are you gonna come?” he nuzzles your neck and you let out an equally pitiful whine, your entire body burning, trembling, with him filling you over and over again. “Please come,” he says in a daze. “Come for me, baby, please. I want it so bad, come on my cock and I’ll fill you up so good—please please please—” 

“F—Fuck, Max—” You feel the familiar heat pooling in your stomach, your body only needed that final nudge to tumble off the edge. But Max is lost in the pleasure, only taking what he’s given. You beg for him to fuck you harder and he hears none of it, his lips pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent. Oberyn, however, knows what you need. He always does. His hands move to grip your hips as well, pulling you back against Max with each thrust.

Your skin goes taut over muscle. The sensations overwhelm you as you come with a loud cry, clenching around Max’s cock as he surprisingly follows suit, his own cries mixing with yours. 

“Look at my sweet pets,” Oberyn breathes, burying himself even deeper, pushing both you and Max together. Max chokes on a cry, his hard cock still throbbing as he spills himself into you. Your lips part wide and Oberyn sneaks two fingers between your lips, pressing them into your tongue. “Look at me as I come,” he growls as Max whines for more, his body pliant and willing. 

Oberyn groans and stills, buried deep inside Max, he finds his own release. He doesn’t break his gaze from you as he fills and fills and fills the other man. You feel him leaking as his spend trickles down and moves down your spread cunt. Your lids flutter yet, you still manage not to look away, wanting desperately to please your lord. 

“Good little fox,” he teases, pressing further one last time before pulling away. His fingers leave your mouth and Max collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he continues to breathe heavily in post-coital bliss. 

You quickly wrap your arms around him, his cock softening inside of you, “Good boy,” you mutter. “You felt so fucking good Max, I’ve missed your cock.” 

His cock twitches with interest and he smiles, “If you continue with the dirty talk I might have to fuck you again.” 

Oberyn lays beside you and pulls you both towards his sweaty chest. Your bodies are a tangle of limbs and sweat as you all catch your breath, slowly coming down from the intense high. Max rolls off of you, sliding between you and Oberyn, but you don’t mind the loss of his warmth as Oberyn kisses you, holding you close to them both, not allowing you to pull away. 

“If you ever leave there won’t be a third time,” he says against your lips, your breath catches in his throat upon hearing the silent threat in his tone. Max presses his lips right above Oberyn’s sternum, kissing him slowly as if to calm him. Oberyn pays no mind. “Tell me you understand what I am telling you.” 

“I understand, my lord.” 

Both of them stiffen for a second before loosening up, Oberyn smiles. 

“Good.” 

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #oberyn martell x reader x max phillips #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell x fem!reader #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x fem!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[konigsblog]

captain's punishment .

summary; you're lost in a mission, price is angry and frustrated when you finally arrive back to base, teaching you a proper lesson the right way, and punishing you for being immature.

trigger warnings; degrading, rough sex, price is mean, exhibitionism (slightly), blowjobs, gagging, hair pulling, spanking, shit writing (message me if i missed anything) mean!price x f!reader, female anatomy (afab)

read more?

to say price was upset is an understatement. he expect better, especially from you. you'd been in the tasks force for years, you were a sergeant, someone who knew better than to get lost in the middle of a mission.

he'd thought you'd died, finally hearing your voice after a few days, getting your radio to work. “this is dove, come in.” you tried, muttering out your callsign.

price was in the middle of a rescue mission, searching for you, your voice ringing in his ears. “dove? where are you?” his voice was stern and cold, you could sense the anger behind the façade of being calm. “safehouse, i'll send my location.”

you were happy to be found. living off a couple things you'd found in the safehouse, the windows smashed in and allowing octobers harsh and unforgiving wind to breeze by.

the sound of the snow crushing against his crimson stained boots, the soles engraved with blood. as soon as he was on the concrete, his footsteps became louder, alerting you of his arrival. “you here, kid?” he'd call out, his gun pointed up as he scanned the area before his gaze landed on you.

no one else was behind him, it was a solo rescue, knowing he'd find you and come back in one shape, with you clinging to his arm. his gaze hardened, gritting his teeth as he put his gun down. “fuck, dove.” he cursed lowly, under his breath, smoke coming from his mouth, unsure of whether that was the smoke from his cigar or the affects from the cold weather.

“'m sorry, price..” you averted your eyes from him, avoiding eye contact before his glover hand grasped at your jaw, forcing you to look into his eyes. “you stupid? never remembered you to be this immature. should've told us immediately.” price towered above you, you were safe against a couch, old and tattered.

big doe eyes stared up at him, clearly guilty. “my radio, didn't work.” you looked into his eyes, seeing you all vulnerable beneath him was something he'd never experienced. you were a strong soldier, unable of making mistakes, something he'd never expected from you until now. it made him feel something; it made his cock twitch and throb, sighing lowly.

“wanna make it up to me?” suddenly the atmosphere changed. his bulge became more visible, more prominent. you nodded shyly, his hand still lingering of your jaw til it moved to his fly. unzipping it, maintaining eye contact, seeing the desire inside your pretty and adoring eyes.

his cock springed from his boxers, half hard, slightly dripping with precum. he nudged it against your soft lips, pushing inside, groaning when you wrapped those lips around him. john's hand immediately grasped at your hair, pushing you further onto his length til you hit his base, letting out a gag, your nose tickling his pubes.

dragging you off his size, tongue flat against his shaft, head thrown back. he let go of your skull, letting you set the pace. your fingers wrapped around his girth, not meeting due to how wide he is. swirling your tongue around the tip and sucking on his generously, taking his precum and tasting it on your pink tongue.

“fuck..- girl, that's it, you slut.” he grunted loudly, gazing down at you and admiring you, the way you dragged your tongue along each vein, moans muffled, hypnotised to the metallic and bitter taste of his semen. you whined, feeling as he pulled your hair, yanking you off his dick and forcing you back down. using your throat like a fleshlight, addicted to the sounds of your struggle.

“want your cum, sir..” you coughed, whining. “mm', bet you want it inside that pretty pussy, don't you?” a whimper left your lips, nodding your head eagerly, rubbing your thighs together. “spread those legs then, butterfly.”

you leaned back against the couch, shuffling your pants off and spreading your legs. you bit your lip, hiding the sounds you wanted to let out, feeling as he traced your slit over the material of your panties, soaked and ruined. “all wet f'me.” a chuckle escaped his throat, ripping your panties off in one swift movement, causing you to squirm and squeal.

he didn't even prepare you, slowly easing into your pussy, pulling your shirt up as he bottomed out inside you. grasping at your tits and squeezing them, fully revealing your tits, his tongue encircling your hardened nipples.

full and thick balls slapped against your tight ass, which each thrust making you clench around him, unable to think of anything other than your mean captain. “had my eyes on you for a while, soldier..” he breathed out, beginning to slam into your wet pussy as his pace increased.

you mewled for him to slow down. hairy ballsack knocking against your ass, girthy and meaty cock stretching out your pussy. it was painful, yet the pleasure took your mind off it, taking over any concerns about the pain. the sensation burned in your stomach, arching your back further into him.

“such a naughty girl, aren't you? not listening to your superior, huh?!” price became more upset, grabbing you by the scalp and forcing your head down again the comfort of the couch. he started to pound into you painfully, making you choke on a sob, eyes glistening slightly.

feeling so fucked-out already, the texture of each vein lugging against your gummy and soft walls was pleasurable. his radio began making sounds, the voice familar, gaz. “y'alright, sir? haven't heard from you.” and to make it worse, he didn't stop. “yeah, at the safehouse, sending my location for helo” he spoke, the sounds of skin slapping and moans loud, definitely heard by kyle.

“s-sir-” he put a finger to his mouth, silencing you. you couldn't stop moaning and they only grew louder as you grew more needy. knowing that helo would be here soon, you knew you would have to get this over with quickly. throwing the radio onto the coffee table, starting to ram into your swollen and sore cunt harder, faster, meaner.

“fuckin' be quiet, such a loud girl, aren't you? you want them to hear you? whore.” you gasped out, his thumb stimulating your clit, rubbing it over and over again yet pulling away everytime he thought you were coming closer to your orgasm. he wanted to drag it out, make you weep and beg him, pleading for your release.

his broad hips smacked into you again, repetitive skin slapping sounds filling the rooms silence, your noises probably heard from outside the building. his grip on your head tighten, other hand running up your waist to your breasts, running back down to your hip and squeezing. his grip tightened as he held you like a ragdoll, using you like a fleshlight, his pace coming to a stop. “if you're so desperate, fuck yourself back on my cock, dove.”

you cried out, bouncing yourself back onto his weeping length, his grasp tightening more as your walls pulsed around him. “n-need you” your pretty eyes that he loved to look at rolled to the back of your head, shut tight as you clenched around him. his tip grew red and angry, signalling that he was about to come.

panties were stuffed into your mouth, the taste of your arousal quietening your whining. you could taste the sweetness on your tongue, his thumb rubbing your clit again, causing you to squirt all over him. you came around him, milking him for all his thick cum.

it oozed from your precious hole, tight and spilling potent semen from it. your chest rised and fell as you caught your breath, pulling out your cunny and grabbing his belt, spanking your painful pussy, the cries you let out making him chuckle. the material of the belt causing a ‘thwap’ sound to echo throughout the four walls, continuing to abuse your cunt, still annoyed after that mission.

“m' sorry, sir!! please-, sir-!” he spanked your thighs a few more times, slapping your clit once before pushing you up. “hm', think i've taught you a lesson, dove?” you nodded, wanting a long and cold shower to wash of the dirt sweat and grime from your skin. he pulled you up, grabbing your pants and telling you to put them on, having to wear your soaked panties beneath them.

your belt looped through the loops, tightening it before the you heard the helo. the loud sounds of it approaching alerted you two, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out with him.

sighing as you sat down, smiling at soap who looked st you confused. it was pretty obvious what happened; your hair a mess, clothes messily and sloppily put on, clearly in a rush. and your mascara was smeared, you swear you could see ghost smirking, a low laugh leaving him quietly.

“lass, your fly's undone.” johnny had a huge grin on his face, smirking at you with a look that told you ‘i know what you did’ “o-oh, i didn't notice." wincing as you felt your cunt ache and throb, fixing your pants, embarrassed as everyone knew what you and price were up to, minutes prior.

#orla speaks #price smut #john price x female reader #captain price x you #captain price x y/n #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #cod price #cod smut #call of duty smut #modern warefare 2

[digitalagepulao]

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King: my design notes [!! click here for the full line-up !!] [click here for just the goodies on tumblr]

also titled, "I underestimated my file sizes" TAT Separate images and info below the read more, beware this is LONG <3

Stone Monkey: himbs baby, that is all <3 he's mostly based off the François Langur, but some of his anatomy and proportions lean more on the Gray Langur and Macaque side of things. His facial fur sort of forms a pentagon shape for the five elements, and I gave him ginger fur cus it's a common depiction for him but also baby langurs are very bright orange, and him not growing dark feels like an apt display of his more childish side, both good and bad. His nails are golden for a bit of a "hidden gem" from a stone egg. Also keeping the tail either in a spiral of C-curve when "engaged", and when droopy it has a feel of a heavy rope. Old World monkeys don't have prehensile tails, he can use it for balance and basic mobility but it's not a third hand for the sake of keeping his monkey-ness.

Handsome Monkey King: in one of the poems the monkeys are said to weave grass for mattresses, so I can see them coming up with a crown of woven grass and never-fading leaves and flowers for their king at the very least. His face skin is darker as an adult, but not much else changes overall. The fuzzy upper lips and sideburns are a feature of the species I'm basing him on and it felt like a good fit to add. I also love the forest langurs are so long-furred, makes for a good way to give him dimension but also, the linework style reminds me of old woodcut shorthands for fur. Added a jade coin for the symbolism, and it feels fitting that the king of such a miraculous mountain would have a treasure like that on him. Placcid chill eyes are imperative, dude's not had an existential crisis yet, he's straight up vibing.

Sun Wukong: during his odd-ten years away from home, he learned human manners so he can stand but, I can see him still needing to lean on his tail to keep up his balance here and there. As he reaches the Western Continent (India) and learns the Way under Patriarch Subodhi, he adopts proper clothes for an apprentice and eventually becomes a Rishi. He dons his facial paint from then on, and after he masters the Way, there's a brightness in his pupils to show his cultivated immortality. The beads are purple solely to stand out over the deluge of oranges that is his design.

Great Sage Equal to Heaven: really went all out on this one orz this is Wukong at his most egotistical and ambitious, and I wanted his fit to truly embody that. Took bits from Peking Opera costumes and common depiction elements of him, with some bit of extra for appropriate levels of flair, like the phoenix feather design. I wanted to go for a mountain pattern mail but I couldn't figure out how to draw it, so I winged a pattern. I,,, doubt I'll ever draw this armor as detailed as here, but I wanted it to feel a bit overwhelming to look at, while also seeming like it doesn't quite fit him perfectly like it's swallowing him. Bit of a "baby wearing their parent's shoes" kind of vibe; he's stupidly powerful but he doesn't have what it takes to sit on the throne of Heaven. Also I leaned his expression to how he might appear during the Havoc in Heaven and then his bet with the Buddha. Full unbrindled rage murder monkey <3

-- Ruyi Jingu Bang: can't quite move on without my notes on the golden-hooped cudgel, now can I? The secondary hoops are there for further design appeal and for my own visualization of how the staff changes size (the hoops move over the staff's length as if to push it outward or inward). The metal is dark damascus alloy, though the pattern can be omitted for ease of drawing. One hoop end depicts a dragon, the other a phoenix, and in the middle of the staff is the canon inscription as described in the books, in seal script. Glow is optional and mostly for aesthetics.

Sun Pilgrim: out of his stolen armor, Wukong seems to swim in his robes but in a less overwhelming way. Went for the simple fillet headband cus his face is busy enough as it is. I know he's skilled enough to skin a tiger into pretty decent squares, but after one too many battles, anything would get tattered. He wears red, teal, black and yellow, four of the five cardinal colors, while white (the West) is still missing. His red and black half-robe doesn't fully cover the yellow underneath, a call back to his golden armor; he tries to use his wisdom and teachings to fight back the impulses of his past, but they still shine through at times. I kept only the leg bangs for dynamic elements to better show movement, but also one could say he's got.... golden hoops (haha get it, like his cudgel?? :oD)

Victorious Fighting Buddha: leaned hard on the actual portrayals of the Buddha. Seeing that he's depicted with dark/blue skin, it felt appropriate to let the guy grow out of his baby ginger fur and into adult black, but a patch remains where the golden headband used to be. I didn't want to give him long hair so no bun, but instead, his fur has a sorta lotus-petals shape now rather than his single point. His face paint changes into a more domino-mask style, and his brow white line resembles a teardrop urna. I made the mail piece he holds longer to keep the flowy bits of his previous outfits, and I turned Ruyi Jingu Bang into the sword he wields.

Hello hi, this robbed me of three days of my life and I'd like to receive compensation x.x Anyway hope you enjoy this lad, I know I do! Also if you wanna send me asks about him pls feel welcome to, I'd love to chat about this bastard monkey (affectionate) (loving) (i`d die for him)

#jttw #journey to the west #xiyouji #jttw sun wukong #sun wukong #jttw fanart #monkey king #stone monkey #victorious fighting buddha #buddha victorious in strife #sun pilgrim #bell dragon art #expedition to the west au

[no-saints-around-here]

I read Quiet Afternoon and I got to thinking, it says “tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.” Does this mean this is the first time Rindo has slept with bestie? If not, what was the first time/incident that caused Rindo to sleep with airhead best friend?

Masterlist | Quiet Afternoon

ahhh this became a lot longer then I anticipated - wrote a short fic at the bottom cause I thought it would explain what happened much better than just word vomit!

‎‎

To answer the question first: no. Its not Rindo's first time, not by a long shot.

That line is more so that Rindo is a delusional and unreliable narrator when it comes to his bestie: that is delusional and unreliable on a good day, and straight up in denial on having even held hands with you, let alone touched you, on a bad one. And this is also when this boy is at his most dangerous, willing to do anything to anyone, Ran included, to prove to himself that he was your best friend and nothing more, that you were still his sweet, naive, innocent airhead who he found especially annoying.

If you squint really hard at the implications of Rindo installing a soundproof door on his first day of moving into Bonten HQ, together with how well this boy already knows your body and your patterns by the time of the events of Quiet Afternoon, you may be able to infer that its definitely not your first tango, even if Rindo insists it is (no sweat if you didn't though, it was really very, very subtle on purpose).

And no one knows this fact better than Ran, given the older Haitani was the precise reason your purple-haired Bonten friend first broke rank against his better sense.

Rindo’s breaking point came sometime during your stardom period. All started going downhill when he reluctantly allowed you to continue to perform as an idol against his judgement on the basis of just how happy it made you - it had always been hard for this baby boy to deny you anything you wanted, and fresh out of another stint in jail, the delinquent-turn-yakuza was eager to make up for his time away from you. And this was on top of the weak spot he always had for your pouting, so no surprise that he caves as soon as you started to look the slightest bit down about having to leave your little gig so quickly after starting.

One of the caveats he does put in place in exchange for indulging you is that he is now personally in charge of your security, and that the rest of your bodyguards were from Bonten. No exceptions. Absolutely does not trust your ‘agency’ or whatever other maggots that you choose to surround yourself with, and so will take it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, to stand guard outside your changing room when he absolutely couldn’t be inside with you, fly with you everywhere you go. But of course this also means that he has to take time off work to do so, and that meant convincing Mikey to let him do so. Ran finds it amusing to what length his younger brother will go to keep you by his side (cough begging and grovelling in front of Mikey), promising that you could help to launder their money and what not. Mikey honestly couldn’t care even a lick, as long as Rindo takes the work in whatever country he ends up in.

Yet for all that he has done for you, the honeymoon period lasts only a good 6 months before everything fell apart. Rindo thought he had a good handle on things, but never has he been so under-prepared when it finally strikes your best friend just how massively popular you had become in such a short period. Everywhere you went, no matter where you toured, your concerts were all full, stuffed to the brim with fans. And oh how he detested that word.

Fans. Rabid, like mad dogs. Decked out in merchandise bearing your face and name, screaming at the stage hoping for even a smudge of your attention. even coming to the concert venue early hoping to get a glimpse of you.

Scum of the earth, how dare they ask for more than getting to breathe the same air as you?

How dare they demand more?!

The resentment of your adoring masses only built up more and more in Rindo, having to watch from the sidelines as you enthusiastically shook hands and thanked your fans for your support, dancing for them and winking at them. Like you were some sort of whore putting yourself on show for the world. Rindo would never stand for this, not for his best friend, yet he still gritted his teeth; for reasons beyond him, you were enjoying this, enjoying shaking your ass and chest at the unwashed insects.

And then all hell finally broke loose upon one of your returns to Japan after another of your tours.

‎‎

‎‎

All Downhill from Here

"Let. Me. Go," Rindo hissed as he was manhandled away from the still buzzing arrival hall by a rather amused Ran, his twisting and struggling to break free from the other’s grasp to no avail. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him, and then I'll kill you."

The older Haitani sighed as he continued to force his younger brother along the otherwise empty corridor. "And that is precisely why we are in this situation."

And as usual, to none of their surprise, you were at the center of it all, though your airheaded presence that Rindo’s world revolved around was nowhere in sight, having already been sent ahead to the meeting point without your best friend’s knowledge. The hallway echoed with the clicks of their shoes, joined occasionally by the buzz of machinery as they passed and the hum of air-conditioning overhead. If he had known what the day was going to bring, Ran mused, he would have proposed doing this from the start; after all, airport staff were easier to disperse and keep away compared to the hordes of fans that you attract everywhere you go, and these staff corridors were rather convenient, snaking throughout the airport and away from the public eye. 

Rindo’s cursing and swearing went in one ear and out the other as Ran continued to daydream, though the man couldn’t quite blame his unusually hot-tempered younger brother either. After all, it had been the continuous build up of months of stress, having to deal with you and your little idol gig that you insisted you wanted to keep, and this latest incident was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A huff as Rindo finally gave up on his failed escape, his shoulders relaxing in the armlock he had been held in for the past fifteen minutes.

Ran raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

”Yeah. Let me go.”

“You sure?”

”Fuck you, I’ll get that shitstain later.”

Which was exactly what the older of the brothers wanted to hear, Ran nodding as he released Rindo without another word. Shitstain was putting it lightly in his opinion, considering how much trouble he had caused in the span of a single minute - but it wasn’t his problem to solve. As long as Rindo wasn’t attempting to pull a gun in front of the police and the public to settle his little lover’s quarrel, Ran couldn’t quite care what happened to another nobody.

Ran jerked his chin down the corridor. “She’s two doors down to the right. Security escorted her there earlier.” The room was already demarcated as yours, what with two Bonten grunts flanking each side, but he thought it would be better to make it clear, given Rindo’s state of mind. 

His younger brother was already gone before he could finish his sentence, and all Ran received as a thank you for his hard work was the slam of the door.

Ah, siblings.

‎‎

‎‎

Rindo didn’t quite see it as lightly as Ran did. 

This past day had already been particularly hellish for him by any standard measurement. It all started with the last concert of your first tour two nights ago - he had been watching from backstage, as he always did, when your skirt had ripped during your second song. The sound of cloth tearing reached his ears even over the sound of the throbbing music. He had confirmed as much when you finally returned to him waiting for you in the dressing room during the intermission, which only sealed the suspicions that churned in his sinking gut: at just the right angle, you would have flashed the fans in the first few rows, his wretched older brother seated in the VIP box included. Even if he had made you put on a new, longer skirt, it was already too late. 

And then when he had tried to drill into you about the importance of keeping your distance from those lowlives least you catch something nasty, you hadn’t taken his concerns quite as seriously as he had hoped, laughing and beaming back at him, patting his hand reassuringly and trying to convince him that they were harmless. Strike 1.

He didn’t know what he expected, Rindo had to admit to himself; you had always been such an airhead, even since childhood when he first met you. You probably wouldn’t even have survived for so long if the younger Haitani hadn’t take you under his wing as his best friend, and the least you could do to pay him back was to listen to him. All he asked was for you to stay close to him and far away from everyone else, especially Ran.

Sure, there were times like this where Rindo would be forced to allow Ran to inhabit the same space as you - seeing as his older brother had attended your concert and similarly happened to be heading back to Bonten HQ, the three of you had to share the jet - but of all the people to turn up cheekly waving merchandise with your face and name plastered all over? Well, he did say that you were one of the best he’s seen in a while, but still. The man with the short purple hair did it on purpose, Rindo was certain, and definitely to trigger an outburst from him; if you hadn’t been present, he would have strangled Ran himself for bringing up how good you looked on stage (now he was certain Ran saw your panty flashing). Strike 2.

‎

It was without a doubt that your best friend was already rather on edge as the jet finally landed back in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a secret when you would arrive, which meant that there were fans behind barricades eagerly awaiting your appearance outside the airport. Sure, fine. You were famous, whatever, Rindo could hardly bother. But what broke his dam was a single unruly fan. One man, decked out from head to toe in merchandise spouting your name and face, who had decided for very clear, unacceptable reasons to jump the fence in an attempt to ambush you. And the vein that had been throbbing on Rindo’s forehead all day finally burst. Strike 3.

If Ran hadn’t been a second faster to grip and restrain his hand, Rindo would have shot him dead before security could grab the assailant. 

And the missed opportunity continued to haunt him despite thirty minutes having already passed and nothing having happened to you, the sheer anger he had felt in that moment surging through his veins once more as Rindo stalked down the corridor, leaving Ran to talk at his back. Sure, he was going to arrange to have that scum erased, yet the upcoming torture wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. Because how dare he? How dare that unworthy insect you called a fan even think of laying a finger on you? 

And then the heartstopping fear that chilled him to his bones that followed - what about you?

Throwing open the door and seeing your back turned to him only reinforced his sudden onset of fear, the closing of the door behind him reverberating in his ears. You were too naive, too stupid to think beyond your next meal, but what if there was someone else in the picture? Could it be that you had laughed away his concerns earlier because someone else told you so? Could it be that you continued to indulge others because you were being influenced? Could it be?

It had to be, Rindo gulped, as you finally acknowledged him, standing from your small seat and waving eagerly. Someone must have gotten to you while he was locked away in prison, brainwashing you into abandoning him and running off with them. Or worse, with Ran.

He couldn’t hear any of the words you were speaking at him, trapped in the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, his body numb as you tugged him over to the small comfy corner that the airport staff had set up for you. 

Nothing went in, Rindo staring blankly at you, though you seemed to have failed to notice your friend’s inaction until you tried to get his attention. 

”-n! Rin-rin!! Hello?”

The Bonten executive blinked, awakening to your curious face taking up his entire view. 

“Rin-rinnnnn.”

Rindo simply stood suddenly, forcing you to back away, though a beam quickly replaced your surprised expression. A quick glance around the room told him that it was empty of cameras, and he was certain enough that the grunts outside had ensured as much - they were, after all, the ones who would pay with their lives should the police ever become involved. “Bend over the table and pull down your skirt,” he ordered, though he didn’t wait for you to register his instruction, instead already moving to gently guide you.

He had to make sure that you knew who you belonged to, and no matter how much your best friend dreaded what he was going to do to you next, it was necessary. You couldn’t be trusted to know up from down, let alone keep yourself safe and away from those who wanted to do your harm. From those who wanted to see you separated from him.

“Okay!” You cheerfully agreed. “What are we doing?”

Needless to say, this fateful day was the start of the end of your career as an idol. You had a good run while it lasted.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #rindo haitani #yandere rindo haitani #haitani brothers #rindo haitani x reader #haitani x reader #tokyorev #tokyo rev x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindo #haitani smut #rindou smut #ran smut #rindo smut #tokyo revengers smut #bonten #cheesus answers

[cheollipop]

I have a drabble request for the sleepover, if I may?👀

I literally cannot stop thinking about dom mommy!seonghwa. It's consuming me I wish I was joking. Like the thought of him finding it so amusing how you are immediately putty in his hands as soon as the word mommy slips from his lips uGH. And don't even get me started on reader being in a poly relationship with seonghwa and hongjoong like oK PARENTSSS (apologies, my bias line is showing lmao)

Truly the mother and father of kpop😔

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

why hello there~ I'm not gonna lie, I'm actually not the biggest fan of mommy!idol, but it's you. and it's seonghwa. so of course a scenario popped into my head as soon as I read your ask skjrgsk the nickname is used sparingly, and more of a tool reader uses to get her way, but hopefully it'll have the same effect on whoever's reading lmao. hope you enjoy~

pairing: park seonghwa x fem!reader x kim hongjoong

w.c.: 1.2k

tags: smut, mommy kink, unprotected sex (👎), mentioned edging, creampie kink, hongjoong likes to watch ^^, and instruct ^^, and is a pervert!!!, seonghwa's whipped, fr can't resist reader so... hehe

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

“Fuck, Hwa. I’m so close,” you dug your chin into the duvet under you, fingers wrapping around the edge of the bed where Seonghwa kept jolting you towards. But then the cock pounding into you slipped out, leaving you empty and leaking once again, bucking your hips back into open air. “No. No, Hwa, please-”

“You know the rules, princess,” the deep baritone rumbled in your ear, plush lips leaving a trail of kisses from your cheekbone to your temples. “Not until he tells you to.”

Grabbing your jaw, Seonghwa angled your head towards the man sitting on the cushioned armchair across from you, his crossed legs failing at concealing the prominent bulge at his crotch. Hongjoong peered back at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched your face fall, another orgasm dwindling away and leaving your pussy throbbing with need. The way in which he cast his eyes over you—lidded and brimming with desire—made you realize that no begging would allow you the reprieve you desperately sought out, that he was in the mood to watch you reach the brink of delirium before any instruction favourable to you would leave his parted lips.

So you turned to the person who would, craning your neck to search his face for any minor twitch indicating his surrender, but he remained stern, watching you lose hope and wondering how much longer it’ll take you to succumb to their wicked form of torture.

“Please fuck me,” you whispered, pushing your ass back onto his crotch and watching his eyelids flutter at the friction. “I’ve been good, mommy.”

You stopped the corners of your lips from curling at the obvious signs of victory. Hongjoong flinched in your peripherals, your eyes and his fixed on the man behind you, the heavy, slick length of his cock throbbing eminently where it sat snug between your cheeks. A single nickname rendering Seonghwa speechless, consuming him with burning want, erasing the dominant figure trying to catch his attention from the other side of the room and focusing solely on you.

Blown-out pupils and a line of drool drying over your skin, Seonghwa counted three stunted inhales before sinking back into your welcoming heat, watching you flop back onto the bed before digging his nails into your hips. Flicking his eyes upwards, he met with dark irises staring right back at him, as though in some kind of warning.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong cautioned.

“She’s right, Joong. She’s been good,” leaning over your body, Seonghwa pressed his cheek to your temple, sliding his hand under your chin to hold your face up for the younger man, squishing your cheeks together to muffle your pathetic moans. “So fucking good for mommy,” he nuzzled his nose into your heated skin, “mommy wants to give his pretty girl a reward for being so patient.”

“Is that all it takes? She calls you mommy once and you lose all composure?” He taunted, propping an elbow onto the armrest to tap his forehead with his pointer. “So desperate to have her come on your cock already?”

Seonghwa’s eyebrow flinched, a snarky retort about to roll off his tongue, but a whimpered “mommy, please” sounded from below, and it blew away the very last fuck he gave about Hongjoong’s little game.

Straightening up and rolling his head back, he drove his cock into you, the sound of skin-on-skin reverberating between the four walls, and the dense scent of sex bordered on suffocating. Realising that Seonghwa would no longer listen to him, Hongjoong’s eyes locked on yours, not breaking contact even while he undid his belt, and unbuttoned the luxury pants. He made sure you watched his every move as he slowly began fucking up into his fist, leaking cock making a mess of his clothes, translucent drops of precum painting the expensive Balmain, and you took in the pretty shade of rose spreading down his neck to the sliver of chest peeking at you through the undone buttons of his blouse. Even when pleasure pulled your eyelids shut, high-pitched moans dampened by the drool-soaked duvet, Hongjoong’s eyes never moved off you, taking in how your body convulsed when skilled fingers found your clit, Seonghwa’s body enveloping yours once again.

“My good girl, c’mon, say it. Ask mommy nicely,” he panted, cock twitching uncontrollably while he fucked into you, angling his thrusts towards your g-spot and groaning into your ear whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Please, please, mommy, ‘wanna come so bad,” you begged, rutting back to meet his thrusts halfway.

You glanced over at the man running his fingers over his cock to the scene unfolding before him—his two partners fucking like animals in heat, disregarding his presence while they panted and groaned, leaking slick and precum all over the expensive sheets. But you noticed the way his cock jumped at your words, the way the red tinting his skin deepened, and his breath shallowed. Because underneath the designer clothing and high-end makeup, Kim Hongjoong was a pervert. A man who loved filth.

As you neared the edge of your orgasm, Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered, growing sloppy as your heat overwhelmed him and drove him to the brink of madness. And despite the pleasure burning through your veins, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man getting off on the vulgar show you were acting out for him. Sweat-coated skin reflecting the warm light filtering through the lampshades, Seonghwa’s airy moans masking over the lewd squelch of your used pussy, a stream of your arousal and the cum he began pumping into you beginning to ooze out, further drenching the linen under you. Even while Seonghwa slobbered all over your neck, mumbling raspy words of praise into your damp skin, your attention fixed on the man sat across from you, now covered in ropes of his own cum. His hand continued to squeeze around his softening base, and you could see the subtle twitches in his defined thighs as he overstimulated himself.

Slowly, you sat yourself up with shaky thighs, possessive arms wrapping around your middle to support you. Noting how Hongjoong’s eyes glided down your body to watch the thick surge of cum cascading down your inner thighs, your cunt still squeezing around Seonghwa’s thick cock, you relaxed back against the firm chest behind you. It took the other man a few seconds to snap his eyes back to your face, relaxing his grip around his twitching length when he noticed the two pairs of eyes following the movement. You giggled breathily, amused by his sudden change in demeanour, knowing just how much he enjoyed observing Seonghwa while he stuffed you full, following the stream of hot cum seeping out of you before fucking it back into your stretched hole, raw and dirty, until your belly bulged with their combined seed.

Strong hands grabbed the backs of your knees, sliding you legs out from under you until you laid bare and open in front of Hongjoong. Your head rested on Seonghwa’s thigh, legs on either side of you body, and your cunt—gaping and spitting out dribbles of his cum—presented in front of the seated man. You wondered why he was the one who seemed to be timid in this situation, but it brought a smile to your face, your voice honeyed and playful when you spoke as next words,

“Does Joongie ‘wanna make a mess out of his good girl too?”

#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #park seonghwa scenarios #ateez scenarios

[posletsvet]

Satoru Gojo and the Infinity That Sets Him Apart

Throught the flashback arc that opens JJK'S second season, the story goes to great lengths to make us sympathize with Geto. We are privy to the inner workings of his mind when he faces personal catastrophes of his youth, and it grants us a profound insight into how his mental/emotional state deteriorates in response to a painful realization that later comes to define his entire life. Gege found a way to turn Geto's tendency to internalize his experiences into a narrative tool, the mechanics of his Cursed Technique becoming an apt metaphor for it, and that's one truly astonishing writing.

But what about Gojo? After all, it's his memories that play out before our eye as he daydreams, and Geto is no longer an active force in the narrative, so the arc should be introduced in the first place to shed some light on Satoru's character and highlight certain aspects of it. However, while the narrative goes out of its way to humanize Geto by exposing his interiority to the audience, it seems to bit by bit deny readers access to Gojo's mind until Satoru is entirely closed off emotionally at the end of Hidden Inventory Arc. From that point on, any reading of his words and actions can be as good as the other since personal interpretation is all that is left to us to try and understand what lies behind the appearances (I guess that's precisely why there are so many widely different, conflicting interpretations of Gojo out there). What process Gojo's character undergoes throughout his past arc is, essentially, dehumanization.

Let's take a look at Gojo as he is in the main, present timeline. Pretty much as any other person in Gojo's vicinity, the audience can only observe him from the outside, always held at an arm's length away from his interior thoughts and emotions. Whenever we do get an insight into his mind, it's mostly for a solely practical purpose of keeping the readers informed about the direction which the fight is about to take, with Satoru's internal monologues consisting almost completely of him dryly strategizing against his opponents.

Even Gojo's design is set to dehumanize him, teasing the audience with how much it conceals and how little it allows us to derive from what we see. Plain black clothes, long sleeves, long trousers, high collar. Barely any skin exposed, scarce detail, completely colourless expression. To crown it all, his blindfold -- we do not get to see his eyes. Eyes mirror the soul, they communicate emotion which our words fail to. Eye contact is a primal tool of non-verbal communication because of how much our eyes alone can give away about our feelings. With Gojo's eyes perpetually hidden under his ever-present blindfold, there's an additional layer of protection, another hindrance to our understanding of his state of mind. A simple piece of cloth adds to the distance preventing access to Gojo's direct perspective, as impenetrable as trying to look through a blindfold would be for anyone but Gojo himself. The same could be applied even to his height: people around him are required to reach up with their gaze in order to look him in the face. Once again, this choice in his design strives to communicate one thing: you cannot meet him at his level, there is a palpable distance between where he stands and where you are. Everything about Gojo feels almost impersonal, evasive, further increasing the extent of his alienation.

There's an interesting connection found between Gojo's technique, his need to cover his eyes and the narrative distance that does not allow us to get any closer to his character. It's precisely when Gojo puts his mind to perfecting his usage of the Limitless that an unbreachable impediment settles between him and the people around, resulting in him and Geto from that point on being forever unable to get through to each other. With his technique taking a toll on his body by becoming more overwhelming to use after such a rapid increase in power, it's also when Gojo starts to wear his shades all the time. And whereas before we were allowed to look past the tanned spectacles and see his eyes, read the emotion in them, now we're denied even that much. It's probably a short after Geto's defection when Satoru switches to a blindfold, indicating how he completely shuts off emotionally. Just as Geto's Curse Manipulation stands as a metaphor for him repressing his feelings till the breaking point, Gojo's mental state is reflected through the physical appearance, too. Him physically distancing himself from everything within the world around him with his Limitless technique sustaining an uncrossable invisible barrier around him and his blindfold hiding his eyes from the viewer is also how his emotional detachment is established on the meta level of the narrative.

Since Geto's defection, Gojo's defenses are breached in the main timeline just once, and that is during Shibuya Incident Arc. It's barely a coincidence that, as the Limitless falls short and the ever-present physical distance is crossed sharply with the Prison Realm reaching Gojo, the emotional distance is immeadiately eliminated, too.

All defenses down and the memories of his youth flooding through the cracks, Gojo suddenly isn't numb to all the hurt of his past mistakes and what it cost him and the people around him; all the ache of losing his best friend not once but twice and being utterly unable to do anything about it still weighs on him. Neither is numb to all of it the reader, not anymore. The narrative 'catches up' to Gojo at this moment. It was an alienating, almost inhumane experience to never get a sight of Gojo's emotions when it mattered the most, at the pivotal events of his life which come to shape him as a character and as a person. We were simply denied that intimacy. But with Satoru's physical body made within reach and his mind suddenly transparent, laid bare, the delayed heartbreak is alive and present as ever. The weakness of his human heart is exposed, but it required crossing the Infinity to get to his heart.

The physical distance is only breached because the emotional one is eliminated beforehand. However, we finally get to catch a glimpse of Gojo's true feelings because something within the world was able to reach him physically, penetrating through his Limitless technique. The two are the sides of the one coin, they go hand in hand within the narrative, ultimately rendered inseperable by it. At the end of the day, the body is the soul and the soul is the body.

I've started writing all this well before the spoilers for the last chapter came out, but what we see in it, at least how I personally take it, speaks in favour of pretty much everything I've been talking about above. It's somewhat notorious how little emotional impact Gojo's fight against Sukuna lands. Until now. Until Gojo's Infinity utterly fails to prevent his body from taking the damage. Once again we gain insight into his interiority the instance he's physically exposed to the world. With Gojo's invulnerability ultimately overcome, the narrative grants us access to his inner feelings and thoughts one last time. Satoru's heart is an aching wound split open one last time.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk analysis #jjk meta #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #alright i'm posting it just to get it over with #i'm so exhausted and overwhelmed with what we saw in the spoilers this week #emotionally stunted head in my hands you know the drill #god i wish i never got into this manga #not when something like this makes so much sense narrative-wise #it's unbearable #the implications i was trying to pull off here is probably incomprehensible #but i don't have it in me right now to care