#Latest Lingerie Sets for Women
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Explore our exquisite collection of stylish loungewear sets for women at Candour London. Stay comfortable and fashionable with our curated selection of lounge sets designed to elevate your relaxation experience. Discover the perfect blend of style and comfort with our trendy loungewear sets for women.
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mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP
Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘
As always, enjoy 🩷
snap.
<Choi san x fem!reader>
Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.
Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies
“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.
“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.
You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.
Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.
“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”
You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.
You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.
San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.
Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.
His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.
An appointment via referral.
He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.
[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]
He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.
[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!
Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.
I don’t bite, I promise!]
He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.
You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.
You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.
“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.
Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.
“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.
The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.
He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.
And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.
His hand is placed over his heart.
San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.
San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.
“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.
San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.
You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.
When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.
“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.
“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.
“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.
Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.
“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.
“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.
That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.
“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.
The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”
By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”
San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.
San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.
He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.
You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.
“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.
San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.
He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.
“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.
“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.
The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.
San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.
“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”
It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.
Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.
What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.
San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.
“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.
Fuck.
San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.
He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.
The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.
San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.
He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.
Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.
Right onto you.
He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.
Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:
One; San is right above you,
Two; his lips are hovering over yours,
Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.
And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.
As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.
“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”
You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.
“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”
Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.
“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.
Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.
San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.
His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.
He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.
And it makes you excited.
San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.
He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.
He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.
“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.
“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.
“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.
San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.
“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”
“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“
Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.
He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.
“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.
“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.
His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.
“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.
Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.
So that’s what he does.
San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.
He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.
“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.
Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.
His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.
“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”
You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.
Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.
“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.
“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.
“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.
It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.
His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.
The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.
San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.
He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.
You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.
San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.
What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.
“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.
“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.
“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.
Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.
And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.
He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.
Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.
“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.
San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#choi san smut#Choi san#San ateez#ateez san#choi san ateez#ateez choi san#choi san x reader#cultofdionysusnet
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Little Pet
Summary: Something nefarious this way comes. Will you run before it's too late?
Pairings: Vampire!Nat x Hunter!Fem!Reader x Heretic!Wanda
Genre: Dark and slightly smutty but no sexy times.
Warnings: Sexual suggestions, blood, fangs, lingerie, dark magic. Minors dni, this is not for you.
A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I gave it a bit of a touch-up. Hope you enjoy!
It was only dusk and you were already regretting taking the job.
You had been hired by the local innkeeper to investigate the mystery around the abandoned manor on the backside of the forest’s mountain. Many adventurers had come in search of the manor, yet none had returned.
The fact that he was paying you three thousand coin per adventurer that you found was… possibly also the deciding factor.
As you stepped onto the surprisingly well-kept lawn of the place, your hunter instincts went off. Something nefarious was here, lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting. You pulled out your sword as you entered through the giant double oak doors.
Immediately, your blade began to burn hotter than a thousand suns, forcing you to drop it. Thankfully, you had your fireproof gloves on from your latest encounter with a feral dragon, and weren’t burnt.
“So sorry, dear.” A voice echoed in the grand pitch-black entryway, high ceiling above decorated with paintings akin to the skills of the Sistine Chapel.
Not even God could save you now.
“Come closer, dear. Let me see you in the light.”
You noticed a speck of moonlight from a small window to the high right, almost casting a spotlight on the tiles in front of you. You cautiously stepped forward into it, unsure why, yet the voice’s chuckle was… unnerving.
“Why, look at you. A female hunter? Shall we call you Huntress?”
Your gaze steeled - there were more of them - before you felt a sharpness on your neck, a blur passing behind you.
“Oh my. How… sweet.”
You put your hand on your neck, your glove in the light showing a thin line of your blood.
“Vampires.” You muttered beneath your breath.
“Oh, not just vampires.” A new voice said, a clear glee entwined in her thick accent. “I do wish you would figure it out already.”
Suddenly, your body was lifted by an invisible force. You couldn’t move, save your eyes, and you were whisked through the house before you came to a throne room. You were practically thrown to the ground in front of it, a pair of sleek boots in your gaze.
“It’s so wonderful to see another human try their luck here, isn’t it love?” The person, woman, in front of you chuckled darkly.
“Let her lift her head, my dear. I want to see the life in this one’s eyes before I take it away.”
The invisible force acting on your body released your head and you immediately lifted it, coming up to see two women. The one on the throne held a classic lop-sided smirk, her ginger-red hair flowing down her shoulders in simple waves. The other, standing beside the throne, was very clearly something else, with her brown locks tied back in neat braids done by a professional.
“A… here… tic…” You strained the devious hybrid species’ name through your lips.
“There we go. She figured it out!” She snarkily laughed, her eyes glowing as crimson as the bloodstains on her sleeves.
“You are clearly a very skilled huntress. What is your name, sugarcube?” The seated vampire asked, her eyes set on yours.
“Y/N.” Your name was pulled from your lungs by the heretic.
“My my… No wonder Wanda liked the feeling from your sword… you are known for such giant feats of destruction in our world, Y/N the Huntress.”
You guessed that Wanda was the heretic, given the grin that came onto her face. “Now now, love, I think you should introduce yourself. Give this huntress a good fright, yes?”
You looked back at the throned woman, noticing a familiarity to a few wanted posters on the borders of the Darklands. “No…”
“Yes…” She grinned, nodding her head as her sharp nails came to grip your cheek. “I am Natasha Romanova, Countess of the Mstiteli Clan. And you, dear huntress… are now mine.”
She pulled you up by your neck and made a neat slit across your skin, sinking her fangs into your vein whilst Wanda ripped your armour from your body with her magic. Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled up your sleeve, making a neat slit perpendicular to your arm and delved into it.
Tingling sensations spread from both areas, sending shivers down your spine. It was fast, and ruthless, as they didn’t stop even to let you breathe. You were trapped in the cycle of stuttered breaths, euphoria, and the effects of blood loss.
When you rose, your body felt exactly how it was - weak, drained of energy, of blood. You felt your ankle had been chained, the cold metal stinging on your skin though it contrasted vastly with the softness of the bed beneath you.
“Oh, now that’s a hangover headache for the ages.” You winced, lifting your hand to your head to simultaneously relieve the ache and brush a few strands out of your face.
“Is that what humans feel like when they’re blood is consumed? Intoxicated?”
You jerked your head up - bad idea - to see Countess Natasha lying next to you in nothing but a black nightrobe and dark red lingerie. She gingerly brushed her fingers over your neck, which had small gauze patches on either side.
“You.” You growled before instinctively reaching for your sword, only to feel another hand there.
“You were right to melt her armour and sword, my love - she is such a feisty one.” Wanda giggled, her own nightrobe and lingerie adorned on her body.
Wanda flicked some magic to your hands and they obeyed, pulling up until the wisps of red tied your wrists to the bed frame. “Though you can think of hurting us, now you can’t.” She grinned deviously.
“Now, sugarcube… what to do with you…” Natasha teased before she carefully began to peel off your gauze patches.
“Hey! That hurts!” You huffed before Wanda ripped the one near her fangs off with a sharp tug.
“OW!”
They both chuckled and cooed at you like you were some soft malleable thing.
“Calm down, detka. You’re such an impatient little thing.” Natasha rolled her eyes.
“I’m not your ‘baby’.” You huffed, rolling your eyes before she quickly gripped your jaw.
“Do that again and I’ll take away the pleasure from being fed on.” She whispered darkly into your ear, pressing her thumb and finger into your neck to pinch your airways.
You paused, relinquishing, and she pulled away. “Good. Now, for ground rules: This coven is a respected coven. You are the only human we’ve ever taken in that won’t be turned, no matter how sexy you’d be as a vampire.”
“You see, baby girl… We own you now.” Wanda summarised, putting a small bit of ointment on your healing bite wounds.
“Nobody owns me.” You retorted.
“That ends today. Well, I should say tonight.” Natasha chuckled, tracing the outline of your face.
“Yes, it does. So, we will explain the hierarchy to you: Natasha is Countess, so she will often be busy with coven affairs and our coven’s safety. Then, it’s me, considering I am her wife-”
“Wife?!” You exclaimed before Natasha’s finger pushed down on your sternum, her supernatural strength keeping you down in the bed.
“Yes, my adoring, lovely, brilliant chef of a Sokovian wife. Now listen and be respectful.” The countess warned you.
“As I was saying, I am second in the hierarchy. Then it is James, Steve, Sam and Scott - they are our ‘muscle’, even though some of them look like tanks and others not so much. After them is virtually everyone who is not an unturned child. Those we have accepted and who will be turned upon legal age.”
You listened carefully before you noticed an item in Wanda’s hand - a necklace.
“This is something you will wear at all times unless in the shower. It is imbued with Natasha and mine’s scents and blood, should you ever need to be healed.” She said, clasping it over your neck and not afraid to let her hands wander a bit down.
You turned your head away from hers, feeling some sort of spell over your body like the blood within the red stone was charged.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Natasha smirked from above you, her hair tickling your neck as it hung down. “The power of us, the Mstiteli Clan leaders, though only a single drop of blood each. The power of vampires. You could have never defeated us, Y/N. Not even with your enchanted sword.”
“I did enjoy breaking those enchantments.” Wanda added.
You closed your eyes, trying to take everything in since you were still a bit dazed. “Nobody told me that you were Mstiteli. If I had known that-”
“You wouldn’t have come. We know. But we loved chatting to that innkeeper a few nights ago. He was just divine.” Natasha licked her lips and you understood the double entendre.
“A few little drops of amber ash doesn’t hurt a fella. And without you to return and claim your prizes, we’ll keep getting willing meals right at our doorstep.” Wanda smirked.
“Such delicious, tasty meals… Speaking of, I want to have some more…”
You looked at the two warily. They stopped. What?
Natasha snickered darkly, cupping your cheek. “Oh, you really are as sweet as they come. No, what we did was a dominance show. Now, we go gently.”
Gently wasn’t the right word for her to use as she practically smashed her lips against yours, delving her tongue in to test if even your saliva was as sweet as your blood. Your hands, still chained above your head, were no match for Wanda’s power as she sank to your stomach, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin.
“So divine…” She murmured, a flick of her magic warping your reality.
“Hey! Bring my clothes back!” You yelled, mostly from embarrassment as you now wore the same nightrobe adorned on them but in crimson red… and without lingerie.
“Patience, dear. We want our filling first. We will always come before you.” Natasha said, the words burning in your mind as she locked eyes with you.
Then, she leaned in and reopened the wound with such precision of her fang she could be a surgeon. She sucked at your neck whilst keeping a firm hold of your body, her arm snaking underneath the nightrobe and around your back.
“Come up here, Wanda. You were the one who wanted us to make our marks clear and present.” She chided her wife, who you hadn’t even noticed feeding on your wrist.
“But she’s so beautiful… I want to sink my fangs into every inch of her, litter her body with my bite.” Wanda said and you could tell she was the far more possessive one.
“Neck first.” Natasha said firmly.
You felt like a blood bag. Nothing more than for something they can feed on and toy with, squish around in their hands to bring out every bit of life source.
Then, you felt that tingle again. That rush of endorphins coursing through your veins, making you whimper beneath their touch.
“Hush. Fuck, you’re delicious.” Wanda moaned against your neck, digging her fangs deeper.
You quietened down like a good little pet and let them have their fill once more, your jostles of movement stopping quickly as fatigue set in. They were both grinning as they pulled away from your neck, fangs and lips smeared with your blood.
“Wanda, go get some hot towels.” Natasha muttered, the heretic speeding away to bring a tower of hot towels.
She leaned into your ear, kissing it gently. “Now hush, little pet. Time for you to rest some more…”
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff#black widow x you#black widow x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff
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NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)
Steven Grant + Lingerie: (prompt list here)
- Steven Grant could have gone his whole life never considering women's underwear any further than knowing Bridget Jones's were apparently on the frumpy side (a closet rom-com fan, Steven has seen all the British classic a dozen times over in his so-far-uneventful pursuit of his own dramatic romance.) That is until you came into his life, the first person he had ever had the enormous privilege of falling in love with.
- It may have taken longer than you were expecting from a man you found endlessly handsome and charming, but after a run of almost perfect dates, Steven's nervous clumsiness aside, you were finally straddling his lap on the middle of his plush couch, guiding his hands the buttons of your dress so you could finally show him what you hand on underneath. Fumbling with each and every movement of his hands, and trying desperately to focus on your buttons as his head swam with the intoxicating taste of your lips on his, eventually he undid the final clasp allowing you to shrug off the velvety fabric and reveal the dark red, lacy, matching lingerie set you'd picked out hoping you'd end your night in this position.
- Steven's eyes would be wider than the moon taking in your exquisite beauty, the way the dark colours held your curves, the shimmering flesh peaking through the gaps in the lace, the slight outline of your nipples hardening against the fabric. He was in heaven. He didn't even realise people could look this beautiful, this otherworldly, this completely stunning, and in even more disbelief, that someone this gorgeous would be perched excitedly on his lap, leaving a trail of eager kisses down his neck that almost threatened to have his eyes flutter shut, if he wasn't so afraid to miss a second of this view.
- His hands skim over your thighs, toying with the frilled edges of the lace, a strangled moan erupting from his as you buck your hips against his, bringing his attention to the uncomfortable throbbing between in his legs as his manhood pushes against the tight fabric of his corduroys. It isn't hard to tell that Steven is a huge fan of you wearing a little less, but you start to get the picture as you experiment with different pretty little sets you own, figuring out exactly which ones drive Steven to the edge the quickest. The day you wore a sheer light pink set, complete with suspenders, Steven spent the whole night with his head buried between your thighs, too embarrassed to admit he'd cum in his boxers the moment you kissed him.
- Steven would want to get you some nice lingerie as a gift, but the moment he walked into a London lingerie store he got so flustered he walked into a scantily clad mannequin, knocked it over, apologised, and then sprinted out of the shop and straight home. Thankfully there are more than a few places online to order such a gift, and in fact browsing the range of options available opens up a whole new world for Steven. He never knew bras could come without straps, picturing how much easier it would be to slip his hands inside and let your boobs spill over the top where he could press his lips against them. But why stop there when he could buy you a pretty little bralet with two slits in the fabric exactly where your nipples would sit, meaning Steven could slip his fingers under your shirt and start teasing your sensitive tits, picturing all the fun he'd have getting you worked up as you tried to watch a movie resting against his chest.
- This would lead him to the holy grail of his latest obsession; crotchless panties. When he didn't think there could be any better feeling than slipping your wet lacy thong to the side as he worked his fingers into your greedy entrance, here was the perfect solution. He found himself scrolling through the whole collection, picturing you coming to visit him at work in one of your pretty summer dresses with a pair of these underneath, letting him pull you onto his lap while he stretches you with his hard length, watching you squirm as his colleagues walked by and commented on what a cute pair you were and how much happier Steven seemed these days. Before he's managed to place an order his trousers are down and his hand is wrapped around his aching cock, picturing you in the matching set on the screen, beautifully adorned in lace but with all your most sensitive areas exposed for Steven to play with. His hand starts to move faster as pictures you panting and moaning as he plays with your pretty little clit, chest bouncing as your nipples spill out of your bra, no choice but to let him touch every single part of you. He's picturing the sticky mess he'd leave dripping down the front of your panties when he can't hold back his release any more, the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs with no fabric to stop it sending him over the edge. By the time he goes to bed he's paid for next day delivery and invited you over for 'movie night' tomorrow.
#writing#fanfiction#one shot#requests#steven grant fluff#steven grant smut#steven grant x reader#steven grant imagines#steven grant#moon knight imagines#moon knight x reader#moon knight imagine#moon knight headcanon#moon knight smut
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my celebrity crush
minatozaki sana x fem!reader // fluff, smut
you are so gay.
as if there has ever been any doubt about that.
the photo on the screen of your phone is just further unnecessary proof of that fact. you try telling yourself that you’re just appreciative of an expensive matching lingerie set but the truth is that you’re halfway in love with the gorgeous model and the voluptuous curves that the lace frames.
besides, you might as well appreciate the latest photograph that underwear model minatozaki sana has posted to her instagram account — it’s been shared to be looked at, though perhaps not with the kind of meticulous attention that you use to admire every pixel of the frame.
there’s no question about it, minatozaki sana is gorgeous. anybody with a working pair of eyes can see that. that she was placed upon this earth specifically to model underwear, you have no doubt. but sometimes you wonder whether sana’s existence has a secondary purpose — to torture you with those pretty brown eyes and her smiling lips and each flash of delicious skin.
“you’re so gay.”
tzuyu’s comment, while undeniably true, is the unwelcome gravity that sends your thoughts plummeting back to reality.
“she’s so pretty,” you whine, staring mournfully at the picture for a few seconds, before you continue scrolling down your instagram feed.
“yeah, because you were definitely admiring her face,” tzuyu comments drily, giving you a knowing stare. she nudges you with her elbow, then gestures at the drinking game that you’ve been ignoring in favor of drooling over an unattainable model. “come on, it’s your turn.”
you reach into the center of the circle and flip over a playing card, before pointing across at dahyun and gesturing for her to take a drink.
“trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous,” tzuyu says, when the game has moved onto your other side.
“i haven’t fallen for her,” you pout. “i’m just appreciative of her work.”
“you get a notification whenever she posts a new photo,” tzuyu reminds you. “i don’t even do that for the people that i’m dating. you’ve got it bad.”
you scroll back up to look at sana’s picture once more, and your heart twists painfully in your chest at the smoldering gaze that sana gives the camera. finally deciding to stop torturing yourself with daydreams about what will never be, you lock your phone and slide it into your pocket, then gesture to the half-empty bottle of vodka on the floor between yourself and tzuyu.
“i need a stronger drink.”
///
you’ve got a nice o’clock class in the morning, yet you still allow tzuyu to ply you with a generous amount of vodka, still allow yourself to be drawn in by the increasingly raucous drinking games, still allow yourself to be dragged out into town to continue your night at a club when you promised yourself earlier that you would only have two drinks and then be in bed by eleven.
it’s a dangerous game to play, but once you become aware that you’re way drunker than you planned to be, you decide to embrace it and order the next round of shots — tequila this time —much to the delight of your friends.
your mind’s fuzzy as you stumble away from the dance floor and down a dark hallway with unpleasantly sticky floors towards the women’s bathroom. there’s a queue lining up outside, a string of drunk girls complimenting each other’s dresses and catching loudly over the thump of music as they wait for one of the stalls to free up and you join the back of it, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your pants to pass the time.
when you unlock your screen, it’s still open on the instagram post from earlier, and your eyes pop out of your head once more as they’re greeted by the sight of minatozaki sana’s lace-clad body. the sight knocks the air out of your lungs, and you feel giddy. (it might be the alcohol, but you’re pretty sure that this photo really isn't helping the matter.) you feel as though you could stare at this photo all week, that sana’s sultry brown eyes and the expanse of creamy skin on display could keep you sustained better than the food and oxygen that science says your body needs to survive.
tzuyu’s words from earlier ring in your mind. trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous. end despite your earlier denial, you know now that it’s true. you’ve never been this addicted to a girl in real life, never felt like your life would be incomplete without somebody. and its fucking ridiculous because minatozaki sana’s a famous model, and you’re just an insignificant speck in sana’s extensive follower list. you might dream of an alternate universe in which a chance encounter with the model leads to a fulfilling relationship and a fairytale happy ending, but the reality means that this will never actually happen.
which is why what you do next is so easy.
it’s almost certainly the alcohol that pushes you to start typing out a comment on sana’s photo, fueling the resentful part of your mind that’s reminding you that sana’s not the only incontestably gorgeous, but that as a famous model she would never even glance twice at somebody like you, pushing your thumbs to tap away at the keyboard on the screen of your phone before your brain has the chance to catch up.
“nice underwear, bet it would look better on my bedroom floor...”
the line moves forward just as you tap send, and you slip your phone back into your pocket and forget about the comment entirely.
///
when you’re finished in the bathroom, you return to the dancefloor with a clear conscience and a renewed enthusiasm for having a good time. you dance with tzuyu, shimmying your hips and waving your arms around above your head in ways that would bring you great shame if you weren’t impaired by the buzz of too many units of alcohol. as it is, you dance like you don’t give a fuck — and you don't.
that is, until your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out while continuing a half-dance kind of thing, startling yourself with the bright glare of the screen as you unlock it in the darkened nightclub. you turn down the brightness, then look for the cause of the vibration — an instagram notification telling you that somebody has sent you a private message — and read the words on the screen.
“nice face, bet it would look better between my legs...”
you read the sender’s name once, twice, three times before it registers that it reads minatozaki sana — your celebrity crush minatozaki sana — and it is only after that the contents of message itself hits you.
and you nearly drop your phone.
no way.
no fucking way.
you read it all again, read your own shame-inducing comment that you barely remember typing earlier in the night and then read sana's private response. and it just doesn't make any sense. sana’s making fun of you, she has to be. you’ve made an unwanted and inappropriate sexual comment on a stranger's photo and sana’s calling you out for it.
you have to believe that’s true because the alternative is that sana’s message is genuine, and that is far too much for your alcohol-fogged brain to handle.
there is no way that sana would be interested in somebody like you.
you’re a firm believer that the multiverse theory is entirely plausible, but you cannot comprehend that there could be a single universe in which you get hit on by somebody as completely out of your league as minatozaki sana.
especially not in this universe.
especially not after the awful comment that you sent.
you wish that you could rewind time. it's stupid, to be completely honest, because you've spent months dreaming up impossible scenarios in which sana notices you amongst the thousands of fans, but now that the day has finally arrived, you don't think you've ever been this mortified in your life.
you need to be sober. you also need to rectify this situation as soon as possible, and because sobriety seems to be several hours and a few pints of cold water away, you settle for working on the latter.
"i'm so sorry! i've been drinking and i don't know what i was thinking when i wrote that! i promise i'm not a creep!"
it's word vomit in written form, but you aren't capable of typing out anything more articulate in your current state and you're at least grateful that the message contains no spelling errors. you hit send and push the phone back into your pocket, as if putting the whole thing out of sight will wipe it from your mind.
if only the world worked in that way.
“what’s wrong?” tzuyu bellows into your ear from just a few inches away, and despite the proximity, her words are still almost drowned out by the thump of the bass.
you try to act normal, realizing quickly that ‘normal’ behavior is a lot harder to pull off when you’re thinking about it, and just shrug, before answering, “just not feeling it anymore. i’ve drunk too much.”
“we can go if you like,” tzuyu replies. “i’m pretty much done for the night too.”
your phone goes off again in your pocket, and you try not to be too eager in taking it out, just in case tzuyu notices your strange behavior and probes further.
“why don’t you enjoy the rest of your night, and we’ll see if you’re still interested when you’re sober tomorrow?”
you frown down at the screen, because the words don't entirely make sense and you don't know if that's your fault or sana's fault or the alcohol's or some fiendish combination of all three.
“interested in what?”
you press send and sana’s next message comes back almost immediately, and you can’t help but picture sana somewhere with her phone in her hand, waiting for your message so that she can reply straight away. (sana’s scantily clad in this scenario, and draped across a bed, because apparently your mind enjoys straying to inappropriate places after too many shots, and oh boy, if your mouth wasn’t dry before then it certainly is now.)
“in seeing my underwear on your bedroom floor.”
you lock the screen of your phone in panic, lest anybody around you happen to see the conversation with sana and put it away as you lean towards tzuyu and say, “yeah, let’s get of here.”
///
when you wake up, the only thing to hit you before the hangover is the shame.
you remember everything. well, there are clear gaps in your memory — you don’t remember the journey to the nightclub, nor getting food on the way back home even though there’s an open pizza box with two and a half uneaten slices lying in plain sight on your bedroom floor, nor the exact set of circumstances that led you going out on a night that you’d promise yourself you would stay in. but you remember everything about minatozaki sana, about the obscene comment you posted on sana’s photo, about the inexplicably propositional message that you received in response.
and you’re mortified.
you unlock your phone with the greatest reluctance, because you're hoping that there’s a tiny chance you drank so much last night that the entire thing was merely a dreamed-up product of your own alcohol-addled mind but nope, the messages from sana are most definitely glaring up at you, which means that you did the unspeakable and pretty much sexually-assaulted a stranger via an instragram comment.
the third thing that hits you, once you’ve confirmed that last night’s events really did happen, is the realization that you should’ve been in class twenty minutes ago.
you drag yourself out of bed, grateful that you at least had enough sense to change into pajamas when you got home in the early hours of the morning, rather than passing out fully nude, as you’ve done before, and take your phone with you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen where tzuyu sits at the table, chewing on a slice of toast.
“tzuyu, we have a big problem,” you announce.
tzuyu glances up from her plate, an expression of mild surprise on her face before she swallows her mouthful of food and replies, “for the last time, y/n, skipping class because you’re hungover is not the end of the world.”
you feel a bang of sadness for the loss of your unblemished attendance record this year, but then shake yourself out if it when you remember that there are far worse things that you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours than forgetting to set an alarm.
“no, something happened last night,” you explain. when panic flashes across tzuyu’s face, you hold out your phone, which is open on the comment you made on sana's photo last night, and quickly say, “no, nothing like that. look at this.”
tzuyu squints at the screen, mouthing the words of your comment silently as she reads it, before her mouth drops open and she stares up at you with shock in her eyes.
“jesus christ, y/n. that’s not like you at all.”
“i know!” you whine, taking back your phone so that you can open up the message conversation that follows on from your comment. “i’m mortified.”
“i mean,” tzuyu says, taking another bite from her toast and continuing in a muffled voice, “that photo has hundreds of comments. i’m sure she hasn’t seen it.”
“hold on,” you tell her. “i’m not finished.”
you show tzuyu your phone once more, this time open on the surreal conversation with sana, the one that you wouldn’t believe actually happened if you didn’t have the hard physical evidence of it in front of you.
tzuyu’s reaction is predictably astounded.
“what the actual fuck?”
“so, you see it too?” you ask, just to confirm, as tzuyu takes the phone from you to look at the conversation in more detail. “i haven’t just fantasized the entire thing?”
tzuyu frowns down at the screen with an expression of disbelief that matches how you feel, and then answers, “it would appear not.”
the phone in tzuyu’s hands vibrates with a new message, and you lunge forward to snatch it from your best friend, only for tzuyu to use her height advantage against you to keep you the phone to yourself.
“it’s from her!” tzuyu announces gleefully, before she reads out, “‘morning cutie!’ — oh my god, i’m going to be sick already — ‘hope you aren’t too hungover. the offer still stands. i’m in dc for a shoot next week if you’d like to go for a drink?’ holy shit, y/n. she’s serious.”
you finally triumph in taking your phone back, reading over sana’s newest message to find that tzuyu didn't make a word of it up. minatozaki sana, a famous model so gorgeous that you’re certain she could date anybody she wanted, has actually asked you out.
“it’s a joke,” you say aloud, for your own benefit more than for tzuyu. “it has to be. retaliation for the gross comment that i left her. she has to be making fun of me, trying to see if she can trick me into saying yes, before she jumps out and tells me that of course somebody like her would never be interested in somebody like me.”
“okay y/n, this may be news to you — and don’t you dare repeat this conversation to anybody because you know i hate it when people think i can be sincere — but you’re actually kind of hot." when you open your mouth to protest, tzuyu shuts you up with a dismissive wave of your hand and continue, “and i know that girls could be flinging their panties at you and you’d still come up with a completely illogical explanation for why they might still not be interested in you, but it’s not completely unreasonable that minatozaki sana has checked out your instagram account, decided that you’re a hot piece of ass and wants to screw you.”
you chew on your lower lip, because that’s an unlikely story, even though the messages that stare up at you from the screen of your phone seem to support a similar idea.
“look,” tzuyu says, reaching out to rest one hand on your arm, “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to. but just remember that most people would give anything to be asked out by their celebrity crush.”
it hits you then. this is your celebrity crush, the woman that only ever appears in your fantasies. an opportunity like this would never present itself again.
“okay,” you finally concede. “but if i turn up to meet her and find that she’s there with a half dozen police officers waiting to arrest me for sexually harassing her online, then you are paying for my legal fees.”
///
you’re terrified. you’ve been a jittery ball of nerves all afternoon, and now that the minutes until you meet sana are down to the single digits, the pounding of your heart is deafening.
“y/n?”
you’re so nervous that you startle when you hear a voice saying your name, and you jump to your feet when you see sana standing in front of you.
sana is… she’s shorter than you imagined her to be. she’s only fractionally shorter than you, but it still surprises you that this figure you’ve built up in your head to be such a monumental idol in your life doesn’t actually tower over you in reality.
sana seems completely normal too, as if she’s just a regular person, rather than a famous model with hundreds of thousands of online followers. and yeah, of course you knew sana wasn’t going to show up in just a fancy set of lingerie, or wearing a glamorous ball gown, or anything like that, but there’s something about seeing sana wearing a pair of turned up jeans with rips in both knees, a leather jacket, a plaid scarf bundled around her neck, that just grounds the entire situation.
she’s still gorgeous though. you think that sana could have turned up in a pair of sweatpants and with unwashed hair and you would still momentarily forget how to breathe in her presence.
sana’s eyes are browner in real life, and her smile even prettier, and if you weren’t at least fifty percent in love with the model before this moment, then you definitely are now.
“sana?” you choke past the dryness in your throat to finally stop gaping like an idiot and say something. “hi! um, can i get you a drink?”
“sure!” sana answers, unraveling her scarf from around your neck and taking off your jacket, folding both over one arm as you lean on the bar and flag down a bartender. “i’ll have a white wine, please.”
“a white wine and a vodka lime soda, please,” you tell the server behind the bar, reaching into your purse for some change to pay for the drinks.
“you look great, by the way,” sana says, nudging herself into your side as she leans on the bar beside you.
“so, do you,” you say. “i mean, wow.”
you turn to look at sana with the intention of physically acknowledging how good sana looks but find brown eyes much closer than you expect. you falter, intimidated by sana's proximity, and have to look away for your own sanity.
“don’t be ridiculous,” sana dismisses your comment with a wave of the hand, as if she hasn’t just dazzled you with a simple gaze. “i came straight from a shoot so i didn’t even have time to properly get ready.”
the bartender places your drinks on the bar, and you take the opportunity to distract yourself from the heat rising to your cheeks in sana’s presence by reaching out for your purse and counting out the correct change to pay for your drinks. passing the glass of wine over to sana, you pick up your own drink and lead the way over to a small table for two not far from the bar.
“i want to apologize for the comment that i left on your picture,” you say, almost as soon as you both have each taken a seat, desperate to get your apology in early so that you have a chance to redeem yourself and prove to sana that you can be so much more than just a creep from the internet. “i was drunk, and i know that doesn’t excuse anything...”
“don’t worry about it,” sana says, taking a sip from her wine and then placing the glass on the table. “it’s not the first time i’ve seen a comment like that. admittedly, they’re usually from gross teenage boys or pervy old men...”
“i’m incredibly sorry,” you repeat, mortified at being placed in such a category.
“look, i can tell that it’s out of character for you,” sana reassures you. a sly smile quirks her lips, and she adds in a lower voice, “besides, i like a girl who isn’t afraid to say that she wants.”
your mouth goes incredibly dry from the combination of sana’s words and the look that sana gives you in that moment, like she wants to launch herself across the table and do unspeakable things to you regardless of the bar’s other patrons, and you have to reach for your drink to cool yourself down.
“do you do this often?” you dare to ask, almost scared to hear of all the other people sana must’ve invited out for drinks, just like this.
“do what?” sana frowns.
“go out for drinks with fans.”
sana shakes her heads and answers, “actually, this is the first time.”
you almost choke on your drink. you had been expecting sana to say that she does this all the time — she must do this all the time if she's doing it with you — but the reality is a complete surprise.
"then... why me?"
it doesn’t make sense. sana has over ten million followers on instagram, and out of them all, she has chosen you.
“i don’t know,” sana shrugs. “something about you intrigued me. when i saw your comment, i was curious because it came from a woman. and then i looked at your photos and i liked what i saw.”
you feel your cheeks flush when sana confessed to browsing your own instagram account. you use it to post pictures of sunsets and hand-picked flowers and the cat that followed you home from the library last week. nothing that would make a lingerie model swoon.
and yet sana’s still there, sitting in front of you with a drink in her hand that you bought for her.
“what about now?” you dare to ask. “do you still like what you see?”
sana’s gaze slowly lowers, staring at your eyes and then dropping to your lips, where she lingers before her stare slides down the rest of your body, as if she’s checking you out through the table that sits between you both. when sana’s eyes flicker upwards once more to meet yours, she doesn’t answer your question verbally. instead, the way she raises her eyebrows at you, along with the renewed hunger in her eyes, is more than enough of an indication of her thoughts.
“so,” sana eventually drawls, “it took you a great deal of alcohol for you to post that comment, right?” when you nod an affirmative, sana continues, “and how many drinks before you’ll let me take you back to my hotel?”
you glance across at your drink, already half empty from the way that you’ve been sipping at it regularly as a distraction from the mounting arousal that has you clenching your thighs together. your decision is instant, and you reach for the glass, knocking back your head to pour the remainder down your throat.
wincing at the taste of the vodka, slightly stronger at the bottom of the glass than it had been at the top, you put the glass down with a thud and reply, “one’s more than enough.”
sana’s eyes light up in delight and she finishes her own drink in one gulp, before collecting her purse and jacket as she pushes back her chair.
“then let’s get out of here.”
///
if somebody were to ask you at a later date to recount the journey back to sana’s hotel, you would only be able to do it in the vaguest terms. it’s a blur of sana’s hand in yours, and sana’s hand on your waist, and sana’s hands drifting lower so that it's not quite grazing the curve of your denim-clad butt when you both have the privacy of the elevator up to sana’s room.
the two of you talk about... about something. the two of you must do, because the journey isn’t an awkward one, not entirely anyway. you think that you both talk about sana’s current shoot, and your college classes, and other such idle chitchat that happens entirely on autopilot. none of it really registers in your brain, because you’re still completely overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve met your celebrity crush, let alone the fact that said celebrity crush has invited you back to her hotel room for what promises to be the most mind-blowing evening of your entire life to date.
you’re still half-convinced that this whole thing is just a hoax, that sana’s hand seeking out whichever part of your body it can find to hold as you both make your way up to sana’s room is only there to stop you from running, that you both’ll step inside sana’s room to find a television crew armed with cameras and a half dozen confetti cannons ready to jump out and tell you that you’ve been pranked.
because there’s no way that sana actually wants to have sex with you.
but the two of you make it up to the hotel room, and when sana unlocks the door with her key card and ushers you inside, there’s nothing waiting for the two of you except a king size bed that’s equal parts inviting and intimidating.
“can i get you another drink?” sana asks, dropping her purse and jacket onto the floor beside the dresser and opening the door to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room to inspect its contents.
“no,” you answer, deciding that although a little liquid courage would be more than welcome right now, you want to be sound of mind to experience this for whatever it turns out to be. “i...”
“oh,” sana says, shutting the fridge door again and crossing the room to you, her hands seeking out your waist and slowly guiding you back against the wall next to the door. “is there something else you'd rather be doing?”
“i...” you stammer, your throat almost painfully dry, “i have a couple of ideas.”
“yeah?”
you hesitate before you act, searching sana’s face for any possible sign that she doesn’t want you to kiss her, but when you find none, and when sana’s hands tighten on your waist in encouragement, you lift one of your hands to cup sana’s cheek and pull her in for a hot kiss.
despite waiting for you to initiate the kiss, sana takes control as soon as your mouth meets hers. she keep you anchored against the wall with her hands, while her mouth opens and her tongue swipes against the crease of your lips, requesting access that you’re only too happy to give. and you’re grateful that sana’s taking the lead. the entire situation still drips with surrealism, and your brain can’t keep up with the fast pace of the evening's developments.
you’re kissing minatozaki sana. you’re in sana’s hotel room, with sana’s hands low on your hips, and sana’s tongue sweeping into your mouth, and there’s no fucking way that this isn’t just a hyper-realistic dream. except that you’re too aware of each tiny detail for this to be a dream, too aware of the thudding in your ears with each pump of the blood through your veins, too aware of the way that sana’s hands burn through the material of your top, too aware of the ache between your legs as you subconsciously push your hips forward into sana’s as if seeking contact where you so desperately need it.
it has to be real.
almost as if she senses that you need a respite to let your brain catch up with your body, sana pulls back from the kiss, far enough for you to see that sana’s brown irises have almost shrunk entirely behind the black of her blown pupils, before sana’s parted lips descend on your neck, tracing dangerous paths over tendons and fluttering pulses.
it’s still very distracting, the way that sana’s teeth and tongue work at the skin of your neck with no real predictability in their movements, but without the intoxication of sana’s lips on your own, you do manage to remember that there are things you planned to say to sana before things could get to this stage and with your mouth free to speak, you choose now to attempt to vocalize them, if only to give you something else to try and focus on instead of succumbing entirely to your desire.
“i just want to say,” you manage to husk out, impressed with your own ability to string words together in the face of sana’s valiant efforts at making you lose your mind entirely, “i think you’re… you’re a great rolemodel to young girls, a real icon. the campaigning you do for body positivity… and, uh...” you let out a little grunt as sana’s teeth close around a sensitive spot on your neck, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to regain the composure needed to finish your sentence, “and the lgbt community. you know, bisexual represen—”
“y/n,” sana says, lifting her mouth from your neck and cutting your words off with a disarming arch of her eyebrow, “i would love to hear all this later, but right now i can think of much better things that your mouth could be doing.”
you let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan at the implication of sana’s words, but you get a sudden surge of confidence, sliding your hands under the hem of sana’s top and bunching the fabric upwards.
“can i take this off?”
sana smiles as she detaches her own hands from your hips, allowing just enough space between your bodies for you to lift sana’s top up and over her head.
you don’t know how to cope now that sana isn’t wearing a shirt. it seems silly, because you've seen this sight before — sana’s breasts covered in satin or lace — but before it’s always been part of a carefully constructed photoshoot intended to be shared with millions of other people. this is completely different because it’s a private showing. nobody else but you get to see this view, and knowing that sana wants it to be you and only you seeing her body tonight, is more of a turn on than anything that you’ve ever encountered in your life before.
“shit,” you groan, closing your eyes as arousal throb in your veins.
“your turn,” sana husks. “i want to see you too.”
sana’s hands tug at the hem of your top and you raise your arms above your head, allowing sana to pull the garment up and off, before she drops it on the floor beside her own.
you almost want to fold your arms across your chest, feeling incredibly self-conscious about standing there in your bra in front of a woman who gets paid to be photographed wearing the same amount of clothing on her upper half. you decided earlier today to put on your nicest bra, just in case things escalated this far, but you’re still just a poor college student, and your nicest bra cost about thirty-five dollars, compared to be obviously far more expensive that sana wears.
“fuck, you’re beautiful,” sana exhales appreciatively, stroking the fingers of one hand across your cheek, then down the column of your neck and over your collarbone before her palm comes to rest over your lace-covered breast. “i can’t wait to get you naked.”
you surge forward, pressing your lips against sana’s, and the force of the movement causes sana to stumble backwards, one hand anchoring itself on your waist while the other palms your breast generously.
“bed,” you mumble, between hot kisses full of tongue that swipe messily at each other and teeth that nip at swollen lips, as you attempt to steer sana backwards towards the bed in the middle of the room, something that only becomes more difficult as sana’s thumb and forefinger pinch at an already puckered nipple through the fabric of your bra.
the two of you make it to the bed, somehow, by which time your jeans are caught around your knees and your fumbling hands have propped open the button on the front of sana’s. you kick your jeans off, tossing them on the floor somewhere behind you as you climb on top of sana, disconnecting your lips long enough to help sana tug denim down her own legs.
“come here, gorgeous,” sana says, smirking at you as she lies back on the bed, propped up on her elbows.
you follow sana’s request, crawling up sana’s body with your legs on either side of sana’s hips, your aching center hovering just inches above sana’s lacy panties as you lean down for another kiss. your long hair tumbles over your face, and you have to take a moment to flick it all over one shoulder, before you connect your lips once more and let your hand slide up the smooth skin of sana’s side until it’s resting on the other curve of sana’s lace-clad breast.
“can i?” you mumble against sana’s lips.
“take it off,” sana says, arching her back off the bed so that you can reach your hand underneath sana and unsnap the clasp. “i want your mouth on my breasts.”
you’re only too happy to oblige, undoing the bra with a shaky hand before throwing it to the floor. you don't allow yourself time to think — or time to realize that sana’s now lying topless before you, because that would almost certainly be too much for you to handle — before you descend on sana’s breast, wrapping your lips around a rosy nipple while you send one of your hands up to give sana’s other breast a generous squeeze. you swipe your tongue over the nipple as it puckers and sana’s hand finds the back of your head, tangling into brunette curls to keep your mouth against her breast.
you’re not satisfied with just this though. now that you have a taste of sana’s skin, you want more, you want to put your mouth on every tantalizing inch of sana’s body. you replace your mouth with your other hand, giving attention to the hardened bud with your fingers, while your tongue traces a path down the valley between sana’s breasts and down sana’s stomach.
sana’s body is even more perfect in person than in her pictures, and you get more and more proof of that with each second that you spend worshipping it. sana’s belly has a slight curve to it, unlike the stereotypical stick-thin model, and you make sure to lavish the soft skin with attention. you trace mindless patterns over sana’s stomach with your lips, stopping every so often to place kisses or draw pictures with your tongue. you seek out sensitive spots, reveling each time sana lets out a gasp or arches away when your lips brush over a ticklish area, making sure to return to these places until sana’s a writhing mess beneath you.
the hand on the back of your head grips tighter, then try to push your mouth down further. you smirk against the warm skin of sana’s stomach, knowing exactly where she wants your next destination to be.
but you won’t give in that easily. you lift your mouth from sana’s stomach and settle on your knees between sana’s legs. sana lets out a groan of frustration, but it’s one that dies in her throat when she realizes that your hands have gone to her hips, seeking out the elastic of her underwear to pull the lace down her legs and discard it on the floor.
you’ve been in this situation with girls before, but you don't think you’ve ever wanted it this much. and it’s not just because sana’s famous, or somebody that you’ve been harboring an unrequited crush on for way longer than the other girl has even known of your existence. there’s just something about sana, about the way that her kisses taste like perfection, about the way that you seem to know exactly what to do to elicit each gasp of pleasure from sana despite being a thrumming ball of nerves, that gives you the inexplicable sensation that your life was always supposed to end up in the moment, whether you like it or not.
you definitely like it. there isn’t a question about that. and, judging by the smear of sana’s arousal that coats your stomach when you settle back between sana’s legs, sana likes it too.
minatozaki sana is into you. which is just way too strange for you get your mind around. sana’s so beautiful, both in looks and personality, that she might as well be from another universe, while you’re just... well, you’re just you. you’re nothing special. completely ordinary.
“i need your mouth,” sana begs.
you’re only too happy to oblige. you trail another path down sana’s body, similar to before but with more purpose now. without the scrap of lace covering sana’s center, your destination is in sight, and you waste very little time getting there, only stopping briefly over sana’s breasts and her navel and that sensitive spot just above sana’s left hipbone that you discovered during your earlier exploration, in attempts to drive sana wild.
everything about this situation is incredibly surreal, but you decide the moment that trumps it all is the one when you slide your tongue through sana’s wetness for the first time. you can’t believe you’re here in sana’s hotel room, let alone going down on the woman you admire, but the heady taste of sana’s arousal on your tongue is eerily familiar, yet also different to anything you’ve ever tasted before.
instinct kicks in. no longer is this you and your celebrity crush, this is you and a girl who wants you, a girl who needs you, if the way that sana’s hips cant up into your mouth is anything to go by. sana sends a hand down and tangles it into the hair on the back of your head, keeping your mouth against her while she bucks her hips and gyrates against your mouth.
it’s really fucking hot, is the first thing that crosses your mind. and there’s no second thing, because you lose yourself in it all. sana’s enthusiasm is smearing her arousal all over your chin but you fucking love it, love the way that sana just can’t seem to get enough of your mouth.
“yes, baby,” sana mounts out encouragements between whimpers. “yes!”
you’ve never been called baby before, but you decide that you like it coming from sana’s lips. you double your efforts in response, wrapping your lips around sana’s aching slit and lashing your tongue against it. sana bucks her hips again when you do that, lets out a few more murmured encouragements and a gasped ‘fuck’, and you hum against sana’s center in approval.
you realize that sana’s going to come really fucking soon if you keep this up, and while the thought is an encouraging one, you aren’t quite ready to be done yet. you slow down the ministrations of your tongue, moving away from sana’s sensitive clit to drag lazy paths up and down sana’s folds, while bringing up a hand to spread sana open for you.
“do you want...?” you ask, lifting your mouth from sana’s center as you dip the tip of an exploratory finger into sana’s opening.
“god, yes,” sana groans, lifting her hips off the bed in an attempt to get your mouth back on her. “do what you want, y/n. fuck me. i need... yeah, just like that.”
you go straight in with two fingers, knowing that sana's more than ready for both, and you let out another hum of delight at the sensation of sana clenching deliciously around your digits. you curl your fingers against sana’s front wall, seeking out the erogenous area that you know will drive sana crazy, and you know you're successful when sana’s back arches off the bed and a husky groan erupts from her throat.
“fuck. y/n, just like that.”
you speed up your motions, thrusting two fingers in and out, and lean down against to put your mouth against sana’s center. there’s no pretense anymore, no need for further delay. you need to see sana come for you and you need to see it soon. you swipe your tongue against sana’s folds once, twice, then dive right in, giving sana’s clit the unwavering attention of your lips and tongue while your fingers slowly work sana higher and higher.
“shit, baby. i’m gonna…”
no amount of warning could prepare you for sana’s orgasm. you know it’s been building but it still takes you by surprise, from the way sana’s hips lift off the bed, to the shout of pleasure that escapes her lips. you use your free hand and splay it over sana’s hips, keeping them anchored to the bed, while you use your fingers of the other, still buried in velvety warmth, to coax yet more sounds from sana’s mouth.
sana’s body stutters through the climax, trembling beneath you with unpredictable jerks, and even when you think you’ve drawn the last of sana’s pleasure from her, sana’s body still twitches once more, before she collapses onto the bed with a contended sigh.
you withdraw your fingers and wipe them on your thigh, not minding the sticky mess they leave behind, then crawl up sana’s body.
“did i do okay?” you ask, because even though sana obviously just came for you, you need to know if it was good enough, need to know if you’ve done enough for sana to stick around long enough to return the favor.
sana’s hands pull your head down for a kiss. there’s almost too much tongue, but when you realize that sana is merely tasting herself on your lips, you decide that there can be no such thing as too much tongue, and you let sana’s filthy kiss take control.
“you’re so cute,” sana mumbles against your lips, her mouth turning up into a smile. “way more than okay.”
in a sudden move that takes you by surprise, sana flips you both over and hovers above your body with a predatory smile on her face. she lowers her mouth to your neck, closing her teeth over your pulse point and sucking what is going to turn into a dark mark into the pale skin there, before moving even lower.
“what was it you were saying earlier?” she asks, between kisses that draw a path over the swell of your breasts and down towards your navel. “i believe you used the words ‘feminist icon’. why don’t you tell me a bit more about that while i eat you out?”
your head falls back against the pillow and your hand finds the back of sana’s head. the moan that spills from your throat when sana’s lips close around your clit can probably be heard from the hotel lobby many floors below.
///
six months later
you hum a jaunty tune under your breath as you slot your key into the front door of your apartment. you smell like an airplane, and you haven’t eaten all day but none of that matters when you’re still riding the high of a weekend spent in your girlfriend’s bed.
you’ve been dating sana for six months now, and it still feels a little bit like a dream that you’re praying you’ll never wake up from. that night in sana’s hotel room was one of the best of your life, and once the two of you were done exploring each other’s bodies over and over again, the two of you both stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning until you both were too tired to stay awake any longer.
as you push open the front door and drag your small suitcase inside the apartment. you smile to yourself at the memory of that night and the morning that followed. if sana asking you out for a drink was surreal, if sana taking you back to her hotel room and fucking you until you couldn’t remember your own name was surreal, then nothing could have prepared you for sana inviting you along to the second day of her photoshoot the following day, nor the way that sana took you twice in her dressing room during her lunch break, nor the relationship that blossomed from there.
it’s been a really great six months.
“tzuyu?” you call out into the apartment, leaving your suitcase by the door and walking toward your roommate’s bedroom. “you in?”
“yeah!” comes tzuyu’s reply.
you push open the door to tzuyu’s room and find your friend sitting up against the headboard of her bed, her laptop on her thighs, which she moves to the side when she sees you standing in the doorway.
“so, how was your weekend away?” tzuyu asks.
“it was good,” you grin.
‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover your weekend spent with her, but then none of the other words in the dictionary do either. you don’t think you’re going to be able to stop grinning for days.
“have you been on instagram lately?” tzuyu asks.
“no, why?” you frown, fumbling for your phone in your jacket pocket and opening up the app.
“take a look at your girlfriend’s latest post,” tzuyu tells you, her voice full of glee and eyes lit up with delight.
you scroll down your feed until you find the photo in question and read the caption.
there’s nothing quite like letting your girl take it off you at the end of a long shoot…
your eyes flit up to the picture, a photo of a pair of lacy underwear lying discarded on the floor, and heat rises to your cheeks as you realize that sana must’ve taken the photo while you weren’t paying attention.
the thing is you recognize the underwear. in fact, you remember picking the set out at the mall specifically to wear on this trip to visit sana, and you remember the nerves you felt while putting them on and wondering whether sana would like what she sees, and you remember the satisfaction of sana popping open the clasp of the bra and drawing the lacy panties down your legs with only her teeth.
“shit,” you groan, letting your head fall against tzuyu’s doorframe with a soft thud.
“what?”
“that’s not even a picture of sana’s underwear.”
tzuyu’s shriek of glee is a sound that isn’t going to leave you in a long while.
probably the most requested one...
#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#twice x reader#twice imagines#twice sana x reader#twice sana imagines#minatoazki sana x reader#minatozaki sana imagines#sana x reader#sana imagines#girl group imagines#gxg imagines#kpop#twice#twice sana#minatozaki sana#sana#girl group#gxg
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Femme Fatale Playbook: How To Thrive In Your Single Era Without Losing Your Mind
For the "hopeless romantic" types or individuals who crave intimate romantic relationships, here are some tips to make the most of your singlehood while setting yourself up for a successful new partnership.
Leverage other outlets to satisfy your needs for emotional and sexual connection:
Invest in your friendships to get that emotional intimacy you crave. Platonic relationships can offer as much depth on an emotional and intellectual level as a romantic partner. Plus, you are more likely to have multiple friends vs. multiple partners, which allows you to engage in different types of conversations, learn about a diverse array of subjects, try out more activities, and appreciate different senses of humor/personalities along the way.
Embrace your single era to further explore your sexuality on your own terms. Try out different toys, entertain yourself with erotic novels, films, and podcasts, invest in hot lingerie or sensual perfumes/beauty and skin products, and educate yourself with books like Come As You Are, She Comes First, Yes Means Yes! and essays on female sexuality. The Quinn app is also a great example of ethical porn made by women, for women. Give yourself some alone time to get real with yourself about your likes, dislikes, fantasies, and hard nos. These self-love practices will allow you confidently and clearly ask for what you want once you find a lover you deem worthy of sharing these intimate experiences with you.
Take time for self-reflection and discover your "ideal type." Create a partner compatibility blueprint and non-negotiables checklist:
Being truly single provides you the time and space to truly get to know yourself. Give yourself the gift of introspection – consider your current lifestyle, interests, habits, values, daily routine, and any ways you plan on changing or evolving these aspects of your life over the next few years. Consider the qualities you like about yourself and those you admire in others (friends, family, coworkers, fellow students, mentors, etc.).
Complete a self-intake to reveal the qualities that would demonstrate compatibility in a partner. Clarify the personality traits, values, and lifestyle habits you look for in a partner. Then, consider your physical type and any other more surface-level qualities you look for in a partner (e.g. a certain level of education, upbringing, languages spoken, profession, morning or night person, any dietary or fitness habits, etc.) to construct your ideal type(s). While you may not ultimately end up with a partner that 100% fits into one of these personas, knowing what you're looking for helps you know what you don't and streamline your vetting process
Use this information to create a "non-negotiables" list to help you easily detect whether someone will be compatible with you from early conversations or, at the latest, after 1-2 dates. These qualities will be very personal due to our own beliefs, lifestyle, and goals – know if something like someone being a smoker, having certain family obligations, dietary restrictions, or having certain political/religious beliefs would be a dealbreaker for you.
Consider dating as a networking tool. Live your life and allow potential partners to enter your purview organically:
Do not make dating into a mission-based, isolated pursuit. Reframe dating as an organic evolution of your social life, leisure activities, and time used to explore your interests. Go out to bars, lounges, coffee shops, and parks. Join activities, social clubs, and interest-based meetup activities (book clubs, sports clubs like a tennis club, and art gallery memberships are great options as well). Take classes based on your interests – like a cooking class, language class, art class, writing class, coding class, etc. and be open to mingling. Having a shared interest is the first step to lifestyle compatibility with a partner.
Be open to accepting invitations to group dinners, hangouts, dinner parties, cocktail events/happy hours, beach days, etc. These social outings are a great way to connect with friends of friends that you probably wouldn't meet out in the wild but are more trustworthy (and are more likely to share compatible attitudes or lifestyle habits) due to your mutual connections.
#dating advice#dating tips#socializing#social skills#flirting#networking#making friends#life skills#life advice#libido#sexuality#sex education#sex and relationships#relationship advice#relationships#femme fatale#dark femininity#dark feminine energy#it girl#the feminine urge#female excellence#dream girl#queen energy#hypergamous#hypergamy#high value woman#female power#loa success#that girl#girl advice
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Lingering Touch (Gwynriel One Shot)
A little story about Gwyn buying lingerie and Azriel losing his mind.
Disclaimer: You do NOT need lingerie in order to be thought of as pretty or to have sex. You also do NOT need to wear lingerie for a significant other if you yourself don’t like it.
Warnings: this is obviously smutty (but not too much, it has plot), specific mention of p in v sex, cum, mild shadowplay, swearing
Word count: around 5500
Nesta looked smoking hot. Even though Gwyn wasn’t that interested in women sexually speaking, she had to admit that, yes, she’d worship the ground Nesta stepped on. At least while she was wearing what she was currently wearing.
“Well, what do you think?”, Nesta took a few more steps towards the crackling fireplace and turned on her tiptoes, presenting her fellow Valkyrie her outfit of choice. In two weeks’ time, Cassian and Nesta will be going away on a trip to the day court in order to celebrate their one year mating anniversary. And apparently, Nesta planned to pack lightly.
Emerie let out a whistle. “Girl, you won’t make it outside of your room for one second if you wear this.”
“Didn’t plan to.”, Nesta winked, took another twirl, and pranced out of the library to change into the fifth outfit of the night. If you could count tiny pieces of lace and leather as outfits.
The girls were currently nestled on the plush sofas of the room. Little chocolate cakes (curtesy of the House) littered the coffee table, the third bottle of wine balanced dangerously close to the edge of it and Nesta’s symphonia droned on in the background. As soon as the girls were finished discussing their latest novel, the eldest Archeron sister wanted Emerie’s and Gwyn’s opinion on the lingerie she bought. And here they were.
“Honestly, Cassian will likely not come back from the trip. With that second set she could easily cause a heart attack.”, Emerie commented dryly, sipping on her wine and waiting for Nesta to continue her runway show. Gwyn thought that she looked like a judge, only missing the numbers one to ten drawn on a piece of paper to make the whole thing more sophisticated.
The priestess herself only nodded in agreement, sporting a growing blush on her cheeks, that now even travelled further down her chest. Nesta’s taste was nothing short of scandalous, with little cut outs in places that really didn’t need a cut out – because they were defeating the whole point of wearing underwear at all – and straps of leather spiraling up her torso and arms. It looked enticing, especially considering Nesta’s lush and athletic body underneath, but it left little to the imagination at what the couple was up to in the bedroom. Not that they were ever shy to share.
“Ready girls?”, Nesta’s voice travelled to their ears before a basically naked body followed, “What do you say? This is a bit on the modest side, but I thought Cass would appreciate the colour.”
Nesta was wearing a lace bodysuit of a beautiful burgundy with a high cut waist. Gwyn couldn’t think of any reason for calling this ‘modest’, but liked it nonetheless.
“That’s gorgeous”, the priestess chimed in, “the color does suit you. And Cassian’s siphons too.”
Nesta nodded, then Emerie gave her thumbs up too (likely rating it a strong 7 in her head), and turned to change into her normal clothing. The fashion show was over, technically, but Gwyn’s thoughts were still honed on the topic. She just didn’t quite know how to address what she wanted to say.
Earlier this year, the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel, the Spymaster of the Court of Night, had snapped into place. Both couldn’t possibly be happier. Even though they hadn’t officially mated yet, they explored everything together: from the winding streets of Velaris, to their wishes and fears, even to their bodies. Gwyn had never known a time where she felt so completely in tune and open to another person, minus maybe Catrin. And seeing Nesta in these beautifully scandalous sets had Gwyn’s mind reeling – and whishing she could do the same thing for her mate.
She could imagine the look on his face, how it would slowly crumple from the usual mask of indifference to utter admiration. How he would reach for her, scarred, warm hands wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. How he would whisper in her ear.
“Gwyn? Are you even listening? Nes, I think you fried her brain.”, Emerie waved a hand in front of Gwyn’s face, effectively pulling her out of the daydream. She hadn’t even noticed that Nesta had made it back to the room and sat next to Em, opposite Gwyn.
“Sorry,” Gwyn winced, “I was just thinking about Az.” She knew she always could be honest with her chosen sisters.
Nesta’s smile, that had been soft while Gwyn was dreaming, now turned feline. “Oh, I know exactly what our little Gwyn was thinking.”
Gwyn couldn’t help the probably hundredth blush of the night creeping up her throat and into her already overheated cheeks, but nodded her agreement. Nesta was always good in figuring out what Gwyn wanted to say, even if she had no idea how to voice it.
“I think,”, Nesta began and scooted to the edge of the sofa, “that it might be time I borrow out some of the sets, so that a certain Spymaster might lose his mind.”
Emerie now caught on to the idea. “Ohh, that’s that look on your face.”
Gwyn took a deep breath. “I thought I could maybe try something like that. You know, since Azriel was the one initiating most aspects of intimacy in our relationship.”
She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, her thoughts now becoming clearer and clearer. A plan formed in her mind. “I want him to lose control. To see me using my sexual agency. I want to feel the confidence that I always see on you, Nes.”
Emerie clapped her hands excitedly. “Yes! I second that. But you need to spill what happened when he saw you in lingerie.”
“Agreed. Do you want to try some of my sets or should I take you shopping tomorrow? That little lingerie shop by the Sidra is a dream, honestly.”, Nesta sipped her wine. She eyed Gwyn with a proud gleam in her eyes, knowing exactly what kind of background Gwyn had concerning sex. Seeing Gwyn all glowing and confident would make her day – getting the story about how Azriel lost his mind would just be the cherry on top.
“I don’t think I’d fit in your sets, so I guess we’re going shopping.”, Gwyn said through her smile. Only the thought made her both nervous and excited. But it would be worth it, so worth it.
The girls continued to talk about the world. Every additional glass of wine spurring them on to delve into wilder topics and spill deeper secrets. But Gwyn’s thoughts were still hung up on her adventure tomorrow. And when she went to sleep that night, that hazel pair of eyes she dreamt of stayed with her.
***
“Good morning, sweetheart. How can I be of assistance?”
A friendly-looking, voluptuous woman approached Gwyn and Nesta as soon as they stepped foot in Starlight, Nesta’s trusty lingerie shop by the Sidra. The girls had made their way down in the earlier hours of the morning to avoid bigger crowds that normally started bustling through the streets after eleven. Just the outside of the shop was enough to make Gwyn’s hands a little clammy.
She had been used to a modest and simple lifestyle all her life. Being a priestess and serving the mother, you really didn’t need that extra pair of shoes or a fancy dress. The robes were enough, more than enough, as they symbolized their sacred connection to the mother and her gifts. But the mating bond was also sacred, and Gwyn planned on appreciating it in a way she hoped would have Azriel drooling. He knew her with plain black or nude panties and bra. Not that the male ever complained, that was the furthest thing from his mind when he saw Gwyn standing half naked in front of him.
Nesta looked expectantly at Gwyn, waiting for her to answer the lady. And Gwyn complied. “I was looking for a set of lingerie, two actually, in the shades of a dark green and black.” If Gwyn was known for one thing, it was a meticulous plan of action. “I don’t know exactly what kind of style I prefer, but maybe we could go with sets that are not too, eh, scandalous, but are also not modest.” Even before she had finished her little speech, the saleswoman smiled and ushered her towards the back of the shop.
“Wonderful. A dark green set would go prettily with your hair, dearest.”, the woman voiced Gwyn’s train of thought exactly. “Look around in these two sections,”, she pointed Gwyn and Nesta towards the racks of clothing, “and when you have found a style you like, call for me again so we can figure out the sizing.”
The Valkyrie nodded their thanks and were left to browsing the shelves on their own time. Gwyn was a little overwhelmed, even though she had imagined her perfect set of lingerie last night, in the hopes that it would make the decisions today easier. She looked at the sets that caught her eye more closely, running her fingers over the lace or the satin of the fabric. Gwyn thought that alone the feel of these has an erotic undertone that she was more than ready to explore.
From time to time, Nesta would poke her head out from beneath the racks and hold up a set that she thought Gwyn would like. They were, to nobody’s surprise, a little riskier, but tasteful and delicate nonetheless.
After what felt like an hour of scrutinizing over every green and black set in this store, Gwyn called over the saleswoman to seal the deal on five sets that would go into the changing room with her. Two of them were Nesta’s contributions, two Gwyn’s and the last a complete wildcard coming from Lilliana (the saleswoman) who insisted on Gwyn trying it on.
Alone in the changing room, Gwyn went through the sets, trying to decide. She felt good in all of them. Good was an understatement, even. She noticed how she immediately stood taller when the satin caressed her skin, how her hair shone through the contrast of her pale skin and the dark fabrics, how luxurious her curves looked. She didn’t have as much of a chest as Nesta, but the bras she decided on didn’t allow room for any kind of criticism.
After she tried on every set and showed it to her two fans (because they were enamored with everything Gwyn put on), she made her decision.
The dark green set (curtesy of Nesta) consisted of a lacy bra that continued on longer under her bust and only really covered the important bits – the rest was effectively see-through. A pretty golden bead was sown to the fabric right between her breasts. The matching panties continued the same lace pattern, only going dense right at the apex of her thighs. It felt more expensive than it was and complimented her hair and skin nicely.
But it was the black pair that had really stolen her heart., the one the shopkeeper insisted on. It honestly was of a similar style, a bralette and some panties, but it had additional, loser-fitting shorts that were completely see-through. Gwyn felt more covered up, as she technically had two underthings on, but it was still unbelievably sexy. The pattern of the lace though – it reminded her of the movement Azriel’s shadows made. The twirls that usually wrapped around her wrists in greeting or assurance, she could now wear on her body. And Gwyn was convinced that the Shadows wouldn’t be the only ones appreciating the concept.
After paying for the two sets, the two women quickly took off towards the House of Wind again. Nesta was still involved in planning their trip, and Gwyn already stole a precious hour of research from Merrill, that would surely end in some vicious looks thrown her way. Interestingly enough, Merrill refrained from screaming at Gwyn after she found out about her mate.
Besides, there was only one thought Gwyn’s mind was really occupied with. Azriel would be home from a mission by tonight. And she wondered if he would feel in the mood for dark green, or rather black.
***
Gwyn went through her mental checklist another time, honing in on the points that weren’t implemented to perfection: she had yet to place some more candles around the room, and the tea also wasn’t ready yet. After picking and choosing some more lightly scented candles and arranging them in what she hoped would create an inviting and calming atmosphere, Gwyn made her way to the dining room in the House of Wind. She was clad in her usual robes, but her steps were visibly more confident when she thought of the secret she carried underneath. Hopefully, Az wouldn’t notice straight away that something was different.
He had tugged on the little golden strings connecting their hearts and souls a few minutes ago, which usually meant that he wasn’t too far away from home. Gwyn’s heart sped up to race against her chest. She’d finally be able to see him again, feel him pressed against her and hear his calm, reassuring voice.
“Hello Gwyneth.”, said voice startled Gwyn back to reality, little whisps of black Shadows already circling her body to pull her closer to her mate. He stood there, poised on the balcony, nearly blending in with the night sky, and took her in.
“Shadowsinger.”
After a quick scan of his body – which appeared to be unharmed – Gwyn moved towards him. She flung herself into her mate, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck. His own arms snaked around her waist and pulled her up, wings enclosing the two of them in addition.
Just like that, Gwyn’s whole world centered again. She hadn’t even noticed how askew it was until now. She hadn’t noticed how hard it was to breathe now that her lungs filled with a scent of night mist and cedar again.
Azriel was cold. His body trembled nearly imperceptibly from the exhaustion of the flight. But he was home, safely, and that was all that mattered to both of them in this moment.
“I’ve missed you, my love.”, Azriel whispered into her hair. Gwyn looked up towards his beautiful face and nuzzled her nose against his. “I would argue I’ve missed you more, but then our food would get cold.”
Azriel smiled. That gorgeous, slightly crooked smile which nearly revealed the dimple he had on his right cheek. “Let’s eat then, I’m absolutely starving.”
Both made their way to the table, stupidly happy grins on each face. For the next hour, while both wolfed down the food the house had provided, Gwyn got to know everything about Azriel’s mission – spywork in the autumn court following up the change of power from Beron to Eris. He had spent five days there, setting up a new network of informants and getting a grasp for the kind of work that needed to be done. He would have to write it down meticulously as soon as he had time and report the whole thing to Rhys and Feyre. But Gwyn and Azriel needed only a look to decide that the time for more work would come tomorrow.
“So”, Azriel started, sitting back on his chair after having finished the last bite, “do you want to tell me voluntarily what got you all excited yesterday and today, or can I start making a plan on how to get it out of you?” Those damned, watchful eyes focused mercilessly on her.
Of course, he would notice. And of course he had to be in that playful mood tonight that made Gwyn all giddy. “Oh, I just found a really interesting piece of research. Groundbreaking, even.” Gwyn nodded her head while she talked. She had read somewhere that through nodding, your listening partner will be more inclined to believe you.
Azriel began mirroring her, nodding his head as well. His eyes narrowed. “Good. Let’s try another question: How about you tell me why you feel the need to lie to me?”
Gwyn was in deep shit. She felt like being interrogated, which she kind of was, and stupidly enough, Azriel was a master in that area. She couldn’t win this. Not when the mating bond betrayed her feelings to him. That had to be it – his Shadows had stopped informing him of these things right from the start of their friendship.
“Well, maybe”, the priestess raked her brain for a plausible explanation, “maybe I just need a little space. Just because we’re mates doesn’t mean that I have to tell you absolutely everything. Where would be the surprise? The tension? The heat?” Gwyn pressed her lips together to stop herself from rambling. She got the feeling that she’d be an awful suspect.
“Right”, Azriel drawled, angling his head while still keeping his focus directly on her. Otherwise, he went completely, unnaturally still. Like a predator that finally found his dinner and tried to think of a way to kill it swiftly. Or to hunt it down. And judging by the gleam in his hazel eyes, the latter would be in Gwyn’s future.
He spoke again, voice going lower and more quiet. “Then we seem to have two possibilities now. Do you want to hear them, Berdara?”
Gwyn gulped. “I still don’t know why you press me like this.”
“Two possibilities. Come on, ask me. I promise they are fun.”
For him.
“Fine, let’s hear them and be over with it.” Gwyn tried to make her voice sound bored, but failed miserably.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, love.”, Azriel’s brows furrowed together in fake disappointment. “But here they are. First: we’ll try this whole honesty thing again and you tell me what got you all excited. Don’t blame me for wanting to know what happened in my mate’s life, it’s a natural curiosity, I can’t fight it.”
Then his smile deepened, and Gwyn’s knees went so wobbly in response that she was glad she already sat. “You second option would be more of a hassle, but that never stopped you in the past so why would it now. Second: We take this to our room and I’ll only let you leave when I’m finished drawing every single detail of your past 24 hours out of you. How I’m going to do that can be a secret. For the surprise, the tension.” He stopped smiling, leaning forward slightly. “The heat.”
Gwyn was simultaneously scared and excited out of her mind. Would she reach into her gorgeous new underwear, she’d probably face only wetness. But she felt defiant.
“You know, Az.”, she leaned forward herself, “I never knew how much you like to hear yourself talk.”
They stared at each other. The silence grew thick, just like the Shadows that surrounded the pair and felt the tension between them charge.
The Azriel spoke again.
“Run.”
And Gwyn was out of her chair and up the stairs as fast as she could muster. Pure adrenalin pumped through her, and she couldn’t help the manic smile that spread across her lips. That male knew how to keep her on her toes. But she needed to focus, to think. His Shadows won’t help him find her, she was certain. But he still knew what to look for, still knew this house better than her. She decided to head for the library, in the hopes that he didn’t see her make the turn. After she found her hiding place, pressed against a bookshelf, she tried desperately to calm her breath. That would be the first thing to betray her. Then, she needed a plan to overwhelm that colossus of a male somehow. Her brain went to work.
In the dining room, Azriel stayed leisurely sprawled in his seat. He wanted to finish his tea. It would be easy to follow Gwyn’s scent around the house, more specifically the scent of deep arousal and excitement, so she could have a head start. She would end up begging and crying underneath him anyways. This was just a fun foreplay to him.
After a minute or two, Azriel stood from his chair and headed straight to their bedroom, not even bothering to look more closely for Gwyn on his way. He’d rid himself of all the unnecessary armor first and maybe wash his face and hands before he’d start to look for his mate. That way, he’d be easier to undress later and Gwyn will jump out of her skin if she doesn’t hear him search. She’d probably even come out of her hiding spot just to scold him for taking so long.
Back in the library, Gwyn grew more nervous by the second, even though she couldn’t hear Azriel make his move. But that was the point. Why didn’t he come look for her? Or was he already here, and she missed him coming in? She was very aware of her heartbeat, could hear it roaring loud and clear in her own head. He can’t winnow in here, can he?
After a while, Gwyn came to the conclusion that she won’t be able to best him at this game. He will find her eventually, no matter how difficult she made it for him, and then she’d be thrown into oblivion. Her best possibility was a surprise. She prided herself in always doing what the Shadowsinger didn’t expect her to do, so why change tactics now? With a last glance thrown in the direction of the door, Gwyn started undressing herself until she was left in nothing but black lace. And then she waited for him to find her.
After a few more minutes that felt like hours, Azriel stepped through the door, as silent as a feather falling to the ground. Gwyn held her breath and pressed further into the shelve, feeling every book imprinting its form on her bare back.
He took a few measured steps into the room, looking around. “Gwyneth? You are in here, aren’t you? Come out now, my love, and I won’t be too hard on you.”
Not too hard, sure. She probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin at the mere thought and a slight tremble stole itself into her fingers.
Azriel continued to circle the room, now exactly opposite her. Gwyn bet all her money he knew where she was, but wanted her simmer in panic a little more. She won’t have that.
Taking a deep breath, Gwyn stepped out of her hiding place, leaving her discarded robe behind. Azriel had stood with his back to her, but turned at the sound of her naked feet.
When he saw her, she swore a violent tremble went through his own body.
“I thought of a way to appease you.” Gwyn said lowly, taking a tentative step towards her mate, who was frozen to the spot. Even his Shadows had stopped their movement, they hovered above and beside him in absolute stillness. Maybe they wanted to mirror their master or maybe they recognized themselves on Gwyn’s skin.
Quietness seemed to be Azriel’s answer to any kind of situation that surprised him.
“Yes, I thought you would say that.”, Gwyn tried to joke to release the tension that didn’t really dissolve after they stood from the dining table. It only grew.
Azriel forced out a thought, the single thought that was on his mind. His voice felt like he hadn’t used it in centuries. “Gwyn.”
Said Gwyn only smiled. “Az.”
And then he moved like he was out of his mind. Crashing into Gwyn, he pressed her up against the wall next to the door to the library. Both of her hands were caught in one of his, held mercilessly over her head. His other hand was granted the freedom to explore.
Gwyn’s breath grew quicker. She tried to look her mate in the eyes but his were practically glued to her form, raking manically from side to side, up and down. She could feel the single emotion that came crashing through the bond as clear as day. Desire.
Azriel’s hand came to rest on the outside of her thighs, his fingers playing with the lace of the shorts and tugging slightly. His eyes finally found hers and practically burned through Gwyn’s head. He looked so incredibly intimidating, a wall of muscle clad in all black, siphons gleaming in the dark, his strength pressing her into obedience. Azriel usually was careful to not appear intimidating to the ones he loved, to not mirror the stances his father used to frighten, but apparently, all control was thrown out of the window now.
Not that Gwyn was scared. The tingle between her legs only increased. It nearly hurt now.
“Have you figured it out yet, Shadowsinger? Why I was all excited?”
Azriel still looked at her in awe, but began to nod slowly. His fingers traced featherlight up her side, over her ribcage and up her arm. Then he began to caress the outline of her bra.
But Gwyn wanted, needed, more from him. “What do you think Az?”
He swallowed once, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “I think that I’ve never in five centuries of living seen someone as devastatingly beautiful as you. I think that if I look at you long enough, the image will imprint itself in my head permanently, so that I can see it every time I close my eyes. And- “, he paused his mesmerized stare to her body to drag it up to her face. “And I’m trying to think of a way to fuck you senseless while keeping this on.”
Gwyn released the breath she held during his little speech. She couldn’t say a word, had to stop the whimper that threatened to cross her lips. She could only find his lips.
They connected in a searing kiss, tongues dancing with each other. Gwyn was still deliciously trapped by the male, but wanted to feel him closer. She wrapped a leg around his hip and pushed him towards her, so that their torsos connected without a single millimeter of space in-between. Azriel continued the kiss down her neck, sucking at the spot that had Gwyn panting, just underneath her ears. For good measure, Gwyn wrapped her other leg around him as well. She felt him throbbing against her core now – not that she needed any more of his teasing.
Forcing Azriel off her by his hair, she tried to look for his gaze again. “Az, stop.”
He calmed immediately. She was glad to see that, even in this state of utter obsession, he was able to listen to her if need be. He took a step back, but obviously took Gwyn with him as she was glued to his body and didn’t plan on having it any other way for the remainder of the evening.
“Maybe we should take this to our room? Just in case Nesta or Cassian come by.”, Gwyn whispered into the dark. Azriel only nodded, still in trance and next thing she knew, a storm of black engulfed them.
The first thing Gwyn saw again was herself. She stood in their room, facing the full-length mirror next to the window. The candles she had placed around the room earlier were lit, and she made a mental note to thank the house for that later on. Behind her in the mirror, she saw her Shadowsinger. He looked over her shoulder into the mirror as well.
His arm snaked around her waist, feeling the scraps of lace on its way around. “I really hope you know how beautiful you look.”
Gwyn smiled softly. She indeed felt beautiful, confident, glowing. She suited her mate, like two people cut from the same cloth. Her gaze found his in the mirror. “I do.”
Azriel nodded, his hand finding her breast and gently massaging her through the bralette. His fingers scraped over her perked nipple, eliciting a groan from Gwyn. While his thumb continued his ministrations, circling and pinching her nipple ever so slightly, his lips found the meeting point of her neck and shoulders. He sucked, bit and licked over the spot until Gwyn physically couldn’t take it anymore and had to wiggle herself away from his lip. She saw that a purple bruise formed there already.
Her mate only laughed. “Wound a bit tight tonight?”
Azriel started the same torturous biting on the other side. His hand finally let off her breast and wandered lower, underneath the hem of her shorts. Through the fabric she could still see perfectly well where he was going, travelling down and down until he stroked once over her covered clit. The lacy fabric heightened the friction and Gwyn couldn’t fight the deep moan that escaped. That didn’t go any better when his Shadows decided – or were ordered – to join in and ghost up and down her inner thighs.
Azriel’s hand that previously held her waist in place for him now found her breast again, his other played with her clit over her panties, all while staring at her body through the mirror. Gwyn nearly combusted at the sight of him, of her, and what he did to her while he pressed his cock to her back.
“You have no idea what you do to me Gwyneth. I could combust in my pants right in this moment.”, he buried his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply while his hands continued their stokes and caresses. Gwyn decided it was time he was tortured a bit as well.
“I thought about you when I bought this, you know? I hoped that I could look pretty for you, for my mate.”, she smirked a little when she heard a groan at her neck, “I wanted the lace to look like your Shadows, so that even if you aren’t here, I could feel some part of you on me.”
“Gods”, Azriel ground out through his teeth. That woman would be the death of him. “You look so pretty for me Gwyn, such a perfect girl.”
His Shadows, happy that she mentioned them, curled up her body and towards her face, stroking across her cheeks and lips. She truly couldn’t take it anymore.
Turning around to face her mate and presenting him with the back view through the mirror, she reconnected their lips again into a passionate kiss. She knew that Azriel kept his eyes open to drink her in, if the sounds he made were any indication. Gwyn pushed against his chest until the pair was met with the edge of their bed.
They fell onto it together, a tangled mess of limbs and black twirls. It was truly a challenge, how Azriel tired to undress himself with the help of Gwyn all while not wanting to part from her lips. When he was gloriously naked, his seven Siphons discarded almost dismissively on the floor, he gripped Gwyn’s waist again and positioned her on top of him. Her core ground onto his cock, dragging the lace across it in a way that made Azriel lose his mind.
“Ride me.”, was all he said, sitting up slightly to place kisses across her chest and over her bralette. His fingers found their way underneath both her shorts and panties, pushing the fabric as far to the side as it will go to reveal her dripping pussy. With all barriers aside, she could finally sink herself onto his cock. She felt inch after inch, every ridge and vein of him as she took him in. Azriel was panting, Gwyn let out a moan when she felt all of his length buried into her. Then, she moved.
Gwyn couldn’t really tell if she spent mere minutes or hours on her mate, riding him and herself into oblivion after they both came once, then twice, then three times. All that Gwyn needed for her climax was the look of Azriel’s face as she sat atop him, his words of praise and worship, his fingers that didn’t still once on her body, but explored her through the lingerie. Only when the lace was completely wet with both of their releases did they stop. Azriel continued to undress Gwyn then, slowly and delicately removing every piece of the set and laying it down next to her while connecting his lips with every inch of skin he set free.
Later that night, the Shadows started replacing her underwear, swirling and caressing the places where the fabric would usually touch. Gwyn found her release again just through their movements while Azriel watched. It had felt like hundreds and thousands of kisses and licks that simultaneously worked her breasts, hips, pussy and rear and she was in heaven.
Just before they fell asleep, Gwyn congratulated herself on her ideas. She was fucked out of her mind, but still couldn’t help wondering what reactions the dark green set would elicit from her ravenous mate.
#gwynriel#gwynriel smut#acotar#acotar smut#azriel#gwyneth berdara#gwyn x azriel#azriel x gwyn#nesta acheron#emerie
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Discover the epitome of elegance with our latest collection of lingerie sets by Candour London. "Elegance Unveiled" offers a captivating blend of style, comfort, and sensuality. Indulge in luxurious fabrics, intricate designs, and impeccable craftsmanship that will elevate your confidence and allure.
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lingerie set for women
Elevate Your Wardrobe: Fashion Forward Apparel and Designer Clothing at Gillkart
Are you ready to revolutionize your wardrobe with the latest fashion trends and designer clothing? Look no further than Gillkart, your premier destination for fashion-forward apparel and exquisite designer pieces in India. From chic blouses to luxurious lingerie sets and cozy nightwear, we curate a diverse selection of women's clothing to cater to every style and occasion.
Blouse for Women: Redefining Elegance
A blouse is more than just a garment – it's a statement of style and sophistication. At Gillkart, we offer a stunning array of blouses that blend timeless elegance with contemporary flair. Whether you're dressing for a formal event or adding a touch of glamour to your everyday look, our collection has something for every taste and preference. From classic silhouettes to bold prints and intricate detailing, our blouses are designed to elevate your outfit effortlessly.
Lingerie Set for Women: Unleash Your Confidence
Indulge in luxury and comfort with our curated selection of lingerie sets for women. Crafted from the finest fabrics and tailored for the perfect fit, our lingerie sets are designed to make you feel confident and empowered from the inside out. Whether you prefer delicate lace, smooth satin, or playful prints, Gillkart offers a range of options to suit your personal style and preference. From everyday essentials to special occasion pieces, discover lingerie that makes you look and feel your best.
Nightwear for Women: Stylish Comfort
End your day on a stylish note with our collection of nightwear for women. From cozy pajama sets to elegant robes and loungewear, Gillkart has everything you need for a restful night's sleep in style. Our nightwear is crafted from soft, breathable fabrics to ensure maximum comfort and relaxation, while still keeping you looking effortlessly chic. Whether you prefer classic designs or contemporary styles, our collection offers something for everyone to unwind and indulge in.
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Conclusion: Elevate Your Style with Gillkart
At Gillkart, we believe that fashion is more than just clothing – it's a reflection of your personality and individuality. With our carefully curated selection of fashion apparel and designer clothing, we strive to empower women to express themselves confidently and authentically through their wardrobe choices. From blouses and lingerie sets to nightwear and bras, our collection offers timeless elegance, modern sophistication, and unbeatable comfort for every woman in India. Shop with us today and discover the Gillkart difference.
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Here are some summer fashion trends you can embrace.
If you haven’t gone shopping yet, it’s time to infuse your wardrobe with summer-friendly fashion. I am a huge fashionista and like refreshing my wardrobe as seasons change. Summer is all about finding ways to escape the unbearable heat with comfortable clothes. If you are wondering what styles to embrace this summer, you have come to the right place.
I have listed a few summer fashion trends that will help you breeze through the season in style.
Summer styles you shouldn’t miss
Embrace these styles and slay your sunny days with effortless ease. Here are some summer fashion trends making waves:
Micro Shorts
Micro shorts are the latest buzz in the fashion industry and are perfect for summer wear. Micro shorts are often worn with oversized shirts and blazers. They are roughly the size of a high-waisted boyleg underwear. These shorts are designed to offer maximum freedom of movement and are often favoured for their trendy and daring style. A popular choice for beachwear, and other casual settings, it helps make a bold fashion statement.
Drop Waists
Drop waists have a waistline positioned lower than the natural waistline. Drop-waist dresses and tops create a relaxed silhouette, ideal for the scorching summer heat. These dresses have a straight or slightly flared shape that hangs loosely from the shoulders. Those with shorter torsos can confidently go for drop waists.
High-rise Trousers
High-rise trousers are mostly made from lightweight and breathable fabrics such as linen, cotton, or lightweight denim, ensuring comfort in warm weather. High-rise trousers are best for a chic summer look. You can wear a tucked-in blouse or a crop top with high-rise trousers. If you want a more formal look, go for a shirt with high-rise trousers.
For more Blogs- Fashion & Styling Tips from Bold & Bae Fashion Blogs
Visit for more lingerie collection for women online at B&B Fashion
Read Fashion & Styling Related Blogs- Bold & Bae Fashion Blogs
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Embrace Comfort and Style: A Guide to Women's Mid-Rise Jeans and Luxurious Sleepwear Sets
In the realm of fashion, comfort and style have never been more harmoniously united than with the latest trends in women's mid rise jeans and sleepwear lingerie. Today, let's explore the perfect marriage of daytime chic and nighttime allure with a focus on mid-rise jeans and cozy pajama sets.
Women's Mid-Rise Jeans: Elevate Your Everyday Style
Gone are the days when jeans were synonymous with discomfort. The era of women's mid-rise jeans has dawned, providing a stylish and comfortable alternative that flatters various body shapes. The beauty of mid-rise jeans lies in their ability to strike a perfect balance – they sit slightly below the natural waistline, offering coverage while elongating the silhouette.
The versatility of mid-rise jeans is unmatched. Whether you're headed to the office, brunch with friends, or a casual day out, these jeans effortlessly transition from one occasion to another. Pair them with a tucked-in blouse for a polished look or opt for a relaxed tee for a laid-back vibe. The mid-rise style is a wardrobe staple that caters to both fashion-conscious individuals and those seeking all-day comfort.
Investing in a quality pair of mid-rise jeans ensures durability and timeless style. Look for stretch denim blends for added comfort and flexibility, allowing you to move with ease while maintaining a flattering shape.
Sleepwear Lingerie: Unwind in Style
After a day of conquering the world in your mid-rise jeans, it's time to unwind and embrace the luxurious comfort of sleepwear lingerie. Modern sleepwear sets go beyond mere functionality, evolving into a realm where style and comfort coexist seamlessly.
The sleepwear lingerie of today is designed with attention to detail, offering a range of fabrics, styles, and cuts to cater to individual preferences. Whether you lean towards classic elegance or contemporary chic, there's a pajama set for every woman.
Silk, satin, and cotton blends dominate the sleepwear landscape, providing a sumptuous feel against the skin. From delicate lace accents to playful prints, sleepwear lingerie allows you to express your personal style even in the privacy of your bedroom.
Pajama Set Ladies: Embracing Cozy Evenings
Enter the realm of pajama set ladies – the epitome of cozy evenings and restful nights. A well-curated pajama set enhances your sleep experience, making bedtime a ritual of comfort and style. Choose from classic button-down tops and drawstring pants to trendy shorts and camisole sets, catering to your comfort preferences and the season.
The beauty of a pajama set lies in its ability to elevate your nighttime routine. Whether you're catching up on your favorite book, enjoying a movie marathon, or simply winding down after a busy day, a thoughtfully chosen pajama set enhances the overall experience.
In conclusion, the dynamic duo of women's mid-rise jeans and sleepwear lingerie offers a perfect blend of comfort and style throughout the day. From conquering the outside world to embracing cozy evenings, these wardrobe essentials ensure you look and feel your best in every moment. Elevate your fashion game with mid-rise jeans and indulge in the luxurious comfort of sleepwear sets – a combination that truly celebrates the modern woman.
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Elevate Your Style: A Journey Through the World of Fashion
Introduction:
Fashion is not just about what we wear; it's a form of self-expression that transcends boundaries and unites people from different walks of life. Whether you're a woman, man, teenager, or a parent looking for the perfect outfit for your child, fashion plays an essential role in your everyday life. In this article, we will explore the vast realm of fashion, offering insights and tips that will help you stay in vogue. From basics to denim, lounge, and lingerie, we'll cover it all.
Mastering the Basics Fashion begins with the basics.
Understanding how to create versatile looks with a few key pieces is the foundation of a great wardrobe. Dive into the world of wardrobe essentials, including white tees, classic denim, and timeless accessories available at your online clothing store. Learn how to mix and match these fundamental items to create stylish and practical outfits for any occasion.
The Art of Denim
Denim is a fashion staple that has stood the test of time. Explore the history of denim and discover the myriad styles and fits available today in your online clothing store. From skinny jeans to wide-leg options, find the perfect pair of jeans that flatters your body shape. We'll also discuss tips on how to care for your denim to keep it looking fresh and new.
Cozy and Stylish Loungewear
The way we dress has evolved, and comfortable yet stylish loungewear has become a significant part of our wardrobes. Delve into the world of loungewear, from cozy sweatpants and oversized hoodies to chic loungewear sets available at your online clothing store. Discover how to strike the perfect balance between comfort and style, whether you're working from home or heading out for a casual outing.
Lingerie Elegance for Inner Confidence
Lingerie isn't just about what's underneath; it's about confidence and empowerment. Learn about the various types of lingerie, from elegant lace bras to comfortable everyday underwear. Explore how the right lingerie can boost your self-esteem and make you feel fantastic from the inside out.
Fashion for Teens
Teenagers often have unique fashion preferences. This section is dedicated to the young trendsetters. Discover the latest trends in teen fashion, from streetwear to school outfits available at your online clothing store. We'll provide tips for parents to understand their teen's fashion choices and how to balance style and comfort.
Fashion for Kids
Fashion isn't limited to adults; even children can express their personalities through clothing. Learn how to choose the perfect wardrobe for your little ones, from adorable baby clothes to stylish outfits for older kids. We'll discuss practicality and durability while keeping them looking cute and fashionable with options from your online clothing store.
Conclusion:
Fashion is a universal language that allows us to express our individuality and creativity. From mastering the basics to embracing the latest trends, the world of fashion offers endless possibilities. Whether you're a man, woman, teenager, or a parent, understanding the fundamentals of fashion and staying up-to-date with the latest trends can transform your style and boost your confidence. So, go ahead and experiment, mix and match, and enjoy the journey of self-expression through the clothes you wear, all available at our online clothing store. RadPrix is your one-stop destination for all your fashion needs. check out our website today. Shop online at RadPrix, To stay on top of the latest trends and find the perfect outfit for any occasion, Fashion is not just about what you put on; it's about how you feel when you do.
Photo by Ron Lach : https://www.pexels.com/photo/men-and-women-in-beige-and-white-outfits-9255737/
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https://www.amazon.com/Aranmei-Strappy-Lingerie-Women-Crisscross/dp/B095LFBPSY
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Feel beautiful and confident in the latest lingerie swimwear from Mydealsonline.com.au. Shop our wide selection of bikini sets for women and find the perfect fit for your body and style.
Lingerie Swimwear Women Bikini Set
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06507-Women's Harness Erotic Lingerie
Introducing Rioe, your trusted brand for Erotic Lingerie. Our latest offering is a stunning Harness made from high-quality Lace fabric. Composed of Nylon and Spandex, this lingerie set promises both comfort and durability. Perfect for women, it’s designed for various occasions like bed time, bondage, and intimate moments. We offer a range of sizes to fit all body types, from S to 4XL. Available…
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Refresh Your Lingerie Collection with the Latest Fashion Trends for All Season
High-end lingerie for any time of the year
Are you looking to update your wardrobe with a lingerie collection that best suits you be it any season? Make sure you have the right lingerie to keep you comfortable and confident throughout the year, whether you are on a hill station vacation or going to the beach. You want to make sure you buy the best lingerie online throughout to keep you comfortable while still looking great.
Because it's the first thing you put on and the last thing you take off every day, your lingerie is an important part of your wardrobe that needs to be taken care of. Whether while dressing for a taking-off heatwave, or a walk on drizzled streets, it's a good idea to begin considering solace at the base layer itself. Whether you're going on a date night at home with your partner, dressing up for a special night out, or just lounging around in your apartment in a great set of lingerie, choosing the right luxury lingerie ensures that you look and feel great.
Concerning buying the best lingerie online for women, it is critical to pick the correct style. We've compiled a list of our favorite sexy lingerie sets to buy, ranging from barely there mesh styles that still provide commendable support to sexy lace designs for special occasions.
Best lingerie sets that you can buy online
Lightweight Bra Swimwear
Here are our Best lingerie sets that you can buy online
picks for this mid-year:
Luxury lingerie for women
Light bras: You should choose bras that are breathable and lightweight whether the temperature rises or drops. To avoid any situation, look for styles made of breathable materials like cotton or bamboo with a little padding. A decent lightweight bra will keep you agreeable the entire day.
Sexy Lingerie for Women
Bralettes: Any wardrobe cannot be complete without bralettes. They are lightweight, comfortable, and can be layered over a sheer top or open-back dress or worn as a top on their own. If you want to add a splash of color to your outfits, look for bralettes in bright colors and patterns.
Latest lingerie sets for women
Underwear with no seams: You should steer clear of uncomfortable wedges and visible pant lines in the summer or monsoon. The ideal solution is seamless underwear, which is extremely comfortable and provides a smooth finish beneath clothing. Search for consistent styles in lightweight textures like microfiber or network.
Briefs with a High Waist: In addition to being extremely flattering, high-waisted briefs are ideal for any day because they can help smooth out your midsection and prevent chafing. Search for styles with breathable textures and adorable subtleties like ribbons or patterns.
Motion Bras Or Sports Bras: Any season is the ideal time to exercise for a fitness freak, whether through yoga, swimming, or hiking. A decent games bra is vital for keeping you feeling upheld and happy during your exercises. Look for swimwear that wicks away moisture: Swimwear, of course, is an essential component of any lingerie collection. Whether you incline toward a one-piece or a swimsuit, search for styles that compliment your figure and cause you to feel certain. Don't hesitate for even a moment to attempt striking prints and brilliant varieties to say something. Ensure that you are the best lingerie online for women.
Master the style with sexy lingerie
Strong varieties affect the undergarments runway. Given that spring and summer have long been associated with lighter hues, this is not surprising. Many style masters gauge the reception of natural and pastel tones. The result is that women are much more open to experimenting with different tones, which are frequently used to define who they are. While "traditional" colors like white, beige, and black are still popular, many people will find pink and blue to be refreshing.
Pick your sexy lingerie trends that won't be going away. Great lingerie is all about the right fit and comfort. Because it's almost like a woman's second skin, the fabric you choose is important no matter what your style is. Whether the weather gets hot and humid or cold and moist, women want to run back to their homes and change into comfy clothes because the lingerie gets itchy and pokey at the end of the day.
However, experts suggest that one should choose fabrics like cotton, spandex, nylon, and rayon, which are known to reduce moisture. Blended fabrics that don't need to be cleaned keep the bust in shape. The product is unique for the feature that every woman wants, which is lightweight, allows for airflow, and allows for easy breathability to match the weather. Today, ladies are likewise inspired to buy the best bras online with negligible design managers which can be the most ideal for every season.
Conclusion
So, this monsoon, upgrade your luxury lingerie collection with these top picks that will keep you feeling and looking cool. And where can one find these collectibles? If you follow the link to the online store, You can experiment with various colors, patterns, and designs to show off your style. Visit www.candourlondon.com. Happy shopping!
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