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angelwonie · 4 months

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ME AND THE DEVIL || coriolanus snow

PAIRING: coriolanus x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers, angst (if you squint)

SUMMARY: Coriolanus Snow is a difficult man to please. And yet you have overtaken his mind—you, the only person in the academy who seems to have no interest in him. But he is also a persuasive man, and he usually gets what he wants. There's only one problem: falling in love wasn't a part of the plan.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, degradation, praise, overstimulation, manhandling, edging, crying, breeding kink, brat taming?, coryo is mean but down bad], canon-typical violence, mentions of blood and guns, morally gray coriolanus

It started with a change of seats.

In the academy, students were assigned a study partner meant to last throughout the year. The partners were to sit together in the lecture rooms, write each assignment together and support the other in weakness. The goal of this premise was to keep all students attentive and growing—the academy hardly accepted laziness and not at all incompetence. In the top class which consisted of, as the name suggests, the academy’s finest students, the hunger for success stood stronger, and tolerance for failure—lower. Therefore study partners were as close to a lifeline as a student could come.

Coriolanus had no problem with that. Working with others, as vexing as it could be, brought on more pros than cons, especially when he was allowed to take the lead. And if anything went wrong, he was free to blame someone else for the outcome—though Highbottom never really believed him.

The Problem, which currently he referred to with a capital P in his mind, had begun when Dr. Gaul suddenly announced a change in the seating arrangement.

It came as a shock to everyone and frankly, turned the whole orderly system on its head. Livia was moved away to sit with Festus; Gaius with a clearly disdainful Arachne; and he—with you, a girl just recently having joined the top class and taken the spot of a guy who had moved down in ranks.

Originally, you had seated yourself next to Sejanus, in the only empty seat in the room. When Dr. Gaul walked into the room, they all stood. She told them not to bother sitting again and began reading the names of what was to become new partnerships.

Coriolanus could hear Clemensia letting out a groan of frustration upon her name being read out alongside Sejanus’. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from spreading at the misfortune he had evaded.

But it didn’t last long, this state of contentment, because soon his own name was read aloud—with yours.

Your face, as he noticed upon looking in your direction, had no distinctive emotion written across it. Your brows were ever so slightly raised, the corners of your mouth straight. You spared a single glance in his direction—glimmering eyes meeting his blue ones—then, without much reaction, strolled towards the seat which Clemensia had yet to vacate.

“I think you’re in my seat.”

It was the first time he heard your voice. It was far from gentle, but not exactly rough; clear, but not exactly loud. You were standing with your back straight, your bag at your side.

The sound brought Clemensia’s attention to your figure for a solid second before she turned to Coriolanus, brows furrowed.

“This is so stupid. Why would she separate us when she knows how well we work together?”

He didn’t have time to answer before you took a step closer, this time letting your lips spread in a smile. It revealed your teeth, but no cordiality. “You’re still in my seat. You can question the authority of our teachers another time, right?”

Clemensia, a little stunned, stood unmoving until Dr. Gaul shouted at her from the other side of the room. She took her things and with a last look of disbelief cast Coriolanus’ way, moved towards her own designated seat.

You placed your bag by the desk and sat down, legs crossed at the knees. Coriolanus did the same, although his eyes drifted to his right just a little. You looked a bit like a Greek statue, with your posture and expression so much like his own.

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands anew. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce yourselves!”

Coriolanus cleared his throat and you turned to him, a somewhat bored look in your eyes.

“Coriolanus Snow,” he said, extending a hand.

You didn’t take his hand. “I know who you are.”

You didn’t speak to him any more that day. Or the day after that. Or the next.

All he had was your name and the (maybe feigned) looks of boredom you seldom sent him. And a growing annoyance which came about each time he politely told you good morning and you replied in a dull tone.

Nobody knew much about you, which resulted in what students do best when met with lack of information—they make up their own. Livia Cardew claimed you were from district 1. Clemensia whispered to Coriolanus about how your place in the academy was most certainly bought by your parents. Festus Creed was utterly convinced your arrival was a test to see how long they would last alongside a girl who showed no interest in anyone and yet walked with her head high.

But the only rumor which held any truth to it at all was Arachne’s hesitant scoff about how she knew you before.

Livia immediately picked up on the statement and leaned forward in her chair. “You did? So she isn’t from district one?”

“No. But she might as well have been.” Arachne looked to the rest of them for a dramatic effect. “She’s a total bitch, anyway. That’s all there is to say.”

That ended the discussion.

One day, perhaps a week after you and Coriolanus had become study partners, you walked into the academy wearing the tiniest skirt he had ever seen. It was the academy’s uniform, only altered to be shorter and tighter, framing your hips perfectly and ending just about halfway of your thigh.

Coriolanus heard Clemensia scoff from where she stood by his side.

“Attention seeker.”

“Is that even allowed?” Festus asked, though it was unclear whether he meant vandalizing the academy uniform or how otherworldly your legs looked in the skirt.

Whichever it was, the answer was probably no.

On a daily basis, you were already pretty. He knew it and he was well aware the other boys also knew it from the way they eyed you like hawks when you weren’t looking. And, let’s be honest, you were never looking at any of them. So there was a whole lot of staring which Coriolanus caught every time, while you remained either oblivious or too stubborn to acknowledge the attention.

Now, he thought, you must be aware of it—at the very least.

He, personally, was painfully aware of it. Like an embarrassing Victorian man whose mouth waters at the sight of a woman’s ankles, he felt his pants were suddenly too tight. It was in a state of panic that he adjusted himself, clearing his throat. His hand squeezed the desk he was leaning against as he mumbled an incoherent reply that was just enough for Festus and Clemmie to continue their conversation without his input.

From over Clemensia’s shoulder, he could see Volumnia Gaul and Casca Highbottom strolling into the room.

“Dr. Gaul’s here,” he said, pointing with his jaw.

“Oh, right.”

The two of them walked away and Coriolanus closed his eyes, rubbing his nose bridge.

Once he opened them again, he was met with your frame approaching—and he almost jolted in surprise. Your hair was hanging loosely down your shoulders, pinned back on one side to reveal golden earrings. You took a step in his direction and he wondered what for—the distance between you was close to nothing.

“Move.”

Taken aback, he fought the urge to look around and see if anyone else had heard. But no, you were too far and class was almost starting; everyone was busy with themselves.

“Sorry?” he asked with a strained smile.

You sighed, looking vaguely annoyed. “You’re blocking my way.”

He grit his teeth, moving aside. You sauntered past him and into your seat, which he only now realized he had been standing in front of. Your skirt flowed behind you; when you bent down to place your bag on the ground he almost caught a glimpse of your panties. Almost. But what he saw was enough to fill him with rage that didn’t subside for the rest of the lesson—along with his boner.

“I personally think she’s nice,” Sejanus offered when Coriolanus mentioned your poor behavior towards him during lunch. Of course, he said nothing of his dick hardening—oversharing wasn’t his forte.

“Well, you don’t sit with her.”

“I did. And she was nice to me.”

He sent Sejanus a death glare which worked effectively to shut him up.

Coriolanus didn’t really care about your demeanor. It didn’t mess with his work—when you had to be cooperative, you were. And outside of class, Clemensia was more than happy to cling to his arm like a koala. The same went for Sejanus. What bothered him was that look—of disdain, boredom—the lazy way in which you displayed your distaste, like he wasn’t even worth an effort to hate. Because you didn’t hate him.

You just… didn’t care.

You terrified him. You made him see red. You made him react physically, for God’s sake. And he had spoken to you all of twice. How pathetic was that? Enough to stay forever in his thoughts, that much was certain. He was never going to say a word about this to anyone.

But worst of all was this: you liked Sejanus.

Whenever he saw you talking to anyone, it was either your friends from your old class or him. Sejanus Plinth, from district two, with nothing but irritating opinions and a fortune to offer. He saw you laugh at his half-developed jokes, look at him in total focus while he spoke.

One day, about a month after it all, when Highbottom showed no signs of letting them switch seats ever again, he decided to ask you about it. Dr. Gaul was currently strolling about the lecture room, monologuing, which gave him enough time to lean to the side, towards you.

“Seems like you and Sejanus have gotten quite close,” he said, loud enough for only you to hear.

If you registered his words, you made no signs of it. His eyes trailed lower, to your tiny, tiny skirt and the plushness of your thighs which he was free to look at but not allowed to touch. He clenched his jaw and tried again.

“What is it you want? His money?”

At this, your head whipped in his direction. His cool, blue eyes bore into yours and he could see anger, clear like black on a white piece of paper, in your gaze. Your shoulders were tense, lips barely parted. But this only lasted a brief moment—a glitch in your composure—before you straightened your back and grit your teeth into a feigned smile.

“And you? What do you want from him?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Dr. Gaul’s piercing voice.

“Miss L/N and Mr. Snow! Perhaps the two of you will answer my question since you’re so deep in discussion.” The woman looked at the two of you sternly. “What is the point of the hunger games?”

You looked at Coriolanus, who seemed perfectly content in his seat. He had no intention of answering. Bastard. You folded your hands into fists and stood up. Everyone was looking, but only Coriolanus’ gaze made your heart thump against your chest. It felt as if you had something to prove.

“To keep the districts at bay.” With a glance towards Sejanus, you bit the inside of your cheek. “In a highly unethical way, of course. It hardly takes killing twenty-three children to prove a point.”

“District children. Remember that,” said Dr. Gaul. “You may sit.”

You obeyed, suppressing a sigh of relief.

At least it was relief until you felt a hot breath on the side of your neck, paired with Coriolanus whispering, “Liar.”

You looked at him, seemingly unphased, and let out a soft scoff. “If you didn’t like my answer, you should have said something instead.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, just that it was a lie. Don’t worry, though, I don’t think Sejanus can tell.”

Your jaw tightened indiscernibly. The boy whose curls were falling into his forehead gave a smirk, eyes trailing to where Sejanus was sitting and then back again. You just looked at him, unwavering.

“You know nothing about me.”

“And you know nothing about me,” he said, lips spreading to reveal his teeth. “Now we’re both liars.”

***

On the third of the month, the Plinths threw a party.

It was a large gathering, consisting mainly of the academy’s students and their immediate family. The occasion was unclear—unofficially, it was said the Plinths wanted to scout the students to see who was fit to win the Plinth prize. But it was just rumors. Officially, it was a celebration of the academy’s fiftieth anniversary.

After all it had endured—the rebellion, the war, Coriolanus Snow—a party seemed in order.

On the topic of Snow—you were terribly irritated by the way his words were swarming around your head like bees. Somehow, you had managed to remember his voice down to every shiver and for whatever reason, your brain wouldn’t let go of it. Even as your mother, with her eyes fixated on the mirror, smoothed out the length of your silky dress and asked if you liked it. Even as the two of you left the apartment. Even as you exited the car and walked up the steps to the academy’s ballroom.

“Nervous?” your mother asked.

“No.”

She pushed the doors open.

Coriolanus had showed up to the party in a fitted, dark suit along with his grandma’am right on time. Upon his arrival, he had scouted Sejanus somewhere in a corner with his overbearing parents, while Clemensia stood with Livia and her sister. You were nowhere to be seen as far as his eye could reach. His grandma’am dragged him around the room in search of conversation partners and somehow ended up deepening into a discussion with Mr. Plinth, leaving her grandson to fend for himself with Sejanus by his side. The farce lasted for about half an hour; he felt himself growing weary.

Then, you came in.

Fashionably late, as always, with your mother at your side, you strolled in like the entire party was thrown in your honor. And truly—he might’ve believed you if you said so, with the way your strapless dress sat around your curves.

In his peripheral vision, he could glimpse Sejanus swallowing hard. Coriolanus fought the urge to outright laugh at the ludicrous hope swimming in the eyes of his ‘friend’. He was reaching too high. Way too high.

“Y/N! What a relief, you’re here!”

It was the voice of Strabo Plinth that made you turn your head in the direction of their little clique. A smile spread over your face, but disappeared as soon as your gaze landed on Coriolanus. He watched carefully as you approached with your mother, the pearls on your neck glistening in the overhead light. Sejanus was still staring like a fool; Coriolanus felt his blood turn the slightest bit warmer, the tips of his fingers tingling.

“Mr. Plinth, Sejanus.” You sent the two of them a sweet smile, then cast a look at Coriolanus with your lips pulled tight. “Coriolanus.”

He nodded at you. “Sweetheart.”

You didn’t comment on his choice of word, but he could see your jaw tightening and your chest fluttering, pressing against the restraints of your dress.

Thankfully, it seemed nobody else had heard—Mr. Plinth was too busy gushing over yours and Sejanus’ friendship to notice anything else. Coriolanus’ shoulder bumped into yours and you shuddered. The conversation dragged on until Mr. Plinth was beckoned over by another group of people who looked like politicians, and wandered off with a cranky Sejanus in tow.

Left alone with Coriolanus and his grandmother, you began to plot your and your mother’s escape.

“Look, mom, there’s Livia. We should go say hi.”

You had taken less than five steps before Dr. Gaul’s voice reached your ears.

“Not so fast, miss L/N,” she said, a menacing smile on her face. She waved you and your mother over to where she was standing—right between Snow and his grandmother. “Surely your mother wants to meet the only gentleman whose grades are as good as her daughter’s.”

Your mother took the bait immediately, forcing you to follow her back to where you wanted so deeply to escape. “Oh, gosh, really? Coriolanus Snow, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head, sending your mother one of his disgustingly gorgeous smiles.

“Now, Coriolanus and Y/N are my best students.” Dr. Gaul, more enthusiastic than you had ever seen her, pulled you and Coriolanus to either side of her, squeezing your shoulders. “And study partners, too. They work so well together. How about the two of you go for a dance?”

“Oh, I don’t dance—”

“Yes, Y/N,” your mother obliviously interrupted, “don’t let those five-year dancing lessons go to waste.”

Your face formed into a half-smile, half-frown. “Right.”

Coriolanus sent you a triumphant smile as he stuck out an arm for you to take. You hesitantly snaked yours through it, heart hammering as he led you onto the dance floor.

The song playing was irritatingly slow, and Dr. Gaul’s smile too wide for all this to be a coincidence, but you decided to let it slide—it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Coriolanus positioned you in front of him. From over his shoulder, you could spot Sejanus, to whom you mouthed a silent plea for help, but the boy proved useless when all he did was send you a smile and a shrug.

Coriolanus placed his hands on your waist appropriately and you hesitantly placed your own atop his broad shoulders. Although you made sure not to touch him more than you had to, the hardness of his muscles was prominent against your fingertips.

The distance between you vexed Coriolanus to no end—especially when he had seen you in a skimpy, tiny black dress all pressed up against Sejanus at Arachne’s birthday party. His fingers harshly tugged at your waist and he smiled in satisfaction at the way your body pliantly molded into him. A gasp threatened to escape you, but you held it back, instead swallowing quietly.

It turned out both of you were excellent dancers. Coriolanus sensed exactly when you were to make an unexpected move and was always able to maneuver you however he wanted.

Finally, you decided to speak—a five-minute song danced in silence would last an eternity. “Clemensia’s staring daggers into my back. Am I in danger?”

The blonde smiled. “Not at all.”

“How come?”

“I’ll protect you.”

You smiled incredulously, shaking your head. “I hope you have a knife underneath your blazer, then, because she looks dangerous.”

“I could snap her neck in half with one hand.”

The way he said it—no hesitation and total seriousness—made you choke on the laughter that was supposed to come out, replacing it with a burning sensation somewhere in the depths of your stomach. His hand, on the small of your back, fiddled gently with the lacing of your dress, then lazily moved back to your waist.

You cleared your throat. “I heard your father was a great man.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve also heard he was a terrible person.” You tilted your head to the side, putting on a curious expression. “So, which one is it?”

“Are the two mutually exclusive?”

At that, you laughed. Real laughter, with your head tipped back—laughter he had never heard before, not even when you were around Sejanus. Something swelled proudly inside his chest.

“Only you could say something so bizarre. But no, I suppose they’re not.”

He swayed his hips along with yours, then brought your hand up, signaling he wanted for you to spin. Whilst he swirled you around, you felt the tips of his fingers against your cheekbone, tucking something behind your ear. Once you were in front of him again, you brought your hand to touch the soft surface that felt like a flower.

“What is that?”

He raised one corner of his mouth. “A rose.”

“And why, pray tell, are you giving me a rose?”

He swirled you again, this time his fingers grabbing at the flesh between your clavicle and throat, pulling you against him. You felt his very fingertips, cold and soft, against your muscle, his hot breath against your left ear.

“To mark my territory.”

With that, he swirled you back and resumed the ordinary dance, with a deadpan expression and shining eyes, emitting an unidentifiable emotion.

Your cheek trembled, although you tried to hide it by tightening your jaw. “It’s picked from your garden, then, I suppose.”

“Grandma’am’s.”

“Really?”

Before you could do anything, he leaned forwards so the tip of your nose grazed his pulse. You stood stunned, taking a breath and being met with the strong smell of roses. You caught a glimpse of his collarbones, peeking out from underneath the two buttons he had undone in his shirt. He drew back before you could think to push him away, lips spreading into a smile.

“Those are also from our garden,” he murmured.

“Coriolanus…”

He liked the way you said his name this time.

Not arrogantly or carelessly, but like it was the most important thing in the world; a bar of gold in your hands. And the shiver in your voice—the thought it must’ve been the most delightful thing he had ever heard. He wanted— no, he deserved to hear it again, but it would have to wait. You were looking up at him the way he yearned you would, like he was impossible to ignore.

“Hmm?”

You smiled a strained smile, chest heaving. “The song has ended. I believe I should go dance with somebody else.”

Without awaiting a response, you released yourself from his grip and turned your back on him. He stood in somewhat of a silent shock.

And he felt it again, this immense anger because how dare you wrap your arms around Sejanus and convince him to a dance, when he’s standing right here, ready to rip anyone’s throat open to feel your body against him again.

After your dance with Sejanus, you scurried off to the bathroom, silently inspecting the rose sitting neatly in your hair above your ear. It was a piercing red, matching perfectly with your dress. You sighed into the mirror, rolling your eyes.

The rest of the evening was spent drinking champagne—too much of it, definitely, but who was counting the glasses which you picked up and later discarded?

Coriolanus, of course, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything and much too agitated and proud to even consider asking Sejanus to look after you. No, he’d rather see you pass out drunk than have Plinth take care of you—he could do that himself. But he didn’t. Not that day, anyway. He left the party somewhat early, assisting his grandma’am down the stairs although she claimed she didn’t need his help.

“What has gotten into you today? You’re too eager to help and you’re looking around like a lost district child.”

“I’m not, grandma’am. Get into the car.”

But before he could follow in her footsteps, he heard laughter—the same laughter he had heard for the first time just an hour earlier.

He turned automatically, without much thought, and felt rage well up in him as he saw you and Sejanus leaving the hall shoulder-to-shoulder, your respective parents in tow. You were clearly drunk, your steps unsteady.

Sejanus said something to you, apparently something you found funny, because you slapped his shoulder and laughed again. Unfortunately for you, the heels you were wearing weren’t exactly wasted-proof and gave out from underneath you when you moved your ankle to the side.

It took the slip of a second for you to tumble down the remaining four steps of the stairs, and another two for Coriolanus to catch you, his arms knitting tightly around your waist.

“Coriolanus,” you mumbled, at a loss for anything better to say.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, but he went out of his way to sit you down on the stairs and inspect your ankle anyway.

“Stupid girl,” he said, landing a barely discernible slap to the side of your thigh as he stood, having concluded you were alright. “Why drink more than you can handle?”

“I have a habit of getting in over my head.”

He looked down at you, the disheveled hair and still present rose which you hadn’t taken out yet, and smiled. Slowly, Sejanus and the rest of them descended down the stairs and Coriolanus turned to get in the car. But first, he sent you a smirk over his shoulder.

***

Dr. Gaul’s experiments were always interesting.

In the best cases, they were innovative and in the worst—fatal. None of the academy’s top class knew which one this one would turn out to be when they followed Highbottom into the laboratory.

“What if she kills us?” Livia, who wasn’t particularly fond of you but neither did she feel a particular distaste for you, whispered.

“She won’t,” you whispered back. “We have the president’s son in our class.”

“Right.”

The lot of you walked inside, scattered randomly until Gaul reminded everyone to stick to their partners. You heard Clemensia let out a prolonged sigh upon Coriolanus escaping her grip and approaching you instead.

He smiled self-importantly. “Y/N.”

“Snow.”

The smile faded marginally.

Dr. Gaul ushered everyone closer. A servant dragged off the thick, two-meter long piece of fabric covering what at first sight looked like an aquarium, but later revealed to be a cylinder of rainbow-colored snakes. Someone gasped.

You furrowed your brows and took a glance at Coriolanus, who in turn looked back at you. You were quick to avoid his gaze, but not quick enough for him to miss it.

Dr. Gaul sent you a half-enthusiastic, half-manic smile. “Now, everyone give me something of yours. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

Coriolanus moved first, which you didn’t mind until he grabbed hold of you and pulled you along.

“What are you doing?”

“What, are you scared?”

His eyes twinkled and you tore away from his grip. But it was too late; the two of you were standing right in front of the open snake habitat. You swallowed hard.

He reached into his pocket and fished out a pencil—golden and engraved with his last name—before handing it to Dr. Gaul. You followed suit, albeit hesitantly, and handed her an embroidered handkerchief.

The rest of the class did the same. Dr. Gaul received all the items, stacked them and instructed everyone to sit. Then she gathered it all into one big pile and threw it into the cage. Immediately, the snakes swarmed around the items, licking and slithering.

“These snakes,” Dr. Gaul said, “are lethal only when met with a taste they don’t know. Meaning right now, when they’ve touched your things, they are harmless. Come say hi.”

Nobody, including you, moved a muscle.

Obviously, everyone was busy figuring out why this was even an experiment if they were harmless—from what Dr. Gaul said it sounded more like a visit to the zoo. Next to you, Coriolanus furrowed his brows and stared the cage down with his icy eyes, inspecting.

“No volunteers?” Dr. Gaul sighed. “How about Y/N and Coriolanus?”

You froze, looking at Coriolanus with wide eyes. “You first.”

He tilted his head. “Ask nicely.”

Forcing a smile, you swallowed your pride.

“Please.”

He stood from the seat and you forced yourself to disregard his grin and the way his uniform strained around his back muscles.

Just then, as your eyes followed his steps, you saw something by Dr. Gaul’s feet, something shimmering in gold. You squinted at the object. It was barely visible, currently hidden in Coriolanu’s shadow. Coriolanus walked up to the cage and the overhead light fell onto the object, revealing what looked like something engraved. The letter S. The letter N. The letter…

“Coryo, wait!” You shot up from your seat. Coriolanus looked at you in bewilderment as you grabbed his wrist roughly. “You can’t touch them. Your pen isn’t in there.”

“What?” His gaze dropped to the golden pen at your feet.

You looked at his face, as if to make certain he was whole, then at his wrist in between your shaky fingers. How embarrassing, the way your body had grown so hot and how tragic, the way you had made a scene. You wondered what Coriolanus was thinking, with his mouth parted and eyes on you.

Dr. Gaul clapping her hands together brought you back to reality. “Quite impressive, miss Y/N. I must admit, your reaction time was even faster than predicted.”

You turned to her in disbelief and maybe a bit of anger. “You did it on purpose? Why?”

“Why, to see if you were willing to save Mr. Snow here.”

“That’s absurd, I would have done it for anyone!” Your face grew hot as you ripped your hand away from Coryo’s wrist, as though burned by his skin. “And what if I hadn’t noticed?”

“Then I would have known I made a mistake letting you into the top class. Regard this as a little test, if you will.” She sauntered happily over to you, where she stopped to whisper in your ear: “And for your information, miss Y/N, yesterday these snakes got familiar with mr. Snow through an assignment. I would never put him in danger, so calm your heart.”

Dr. Gaul proclaimed the class dismissed and left—left you to stand in utter shock for at least ten seconds. Then, before any words could escape Coriolanus’ mouth, you followed in her footsteps, practically running out of the room.

After this incident, you avoided him.

He noticed immediately, the lack of you in the hallways when he walked through them and the tenseness of your expression in class. Every time you showed up in those tiny skirts and paid him no mind, he resisted the urge to throw you over his shoulder. You had to be put in your place, certainly so—with the way you were messing with his head. A threat, but he chose to look past that, just this once. What he couldn’t look past were your plush thighs, pretty lips and addicting aura.

Once, after school had finished, he cornered you in an empty classroom in which you were rummaging through your bag, clearly searching for something.

“Looking for this?”

You jolted back, looking at him over your shoulder and at the kays dangling from his fingers. As your face grew hot, you turned your back to him again, suddenly not so keen on finding the keys.

“They must have fallen out of my bag,” you mumbled.

He inched closer, until his chest was against your back and he could drop the keys into your bag. They rattled—the only sound in the room spare for your breathing.

He craned his neck to mumble against your earlobe, “How come you’re avoiding me, my sweet?”

You turned again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” You huffed at him, raising your head high. “Why would I avoid you? I simply don’t care for your presence.”

The side of his lips twitched. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I have class. I need to go,” you said, before realizing in terror that you’d both just had the last lesson of the day—of which he was fully aware. “I mean…”

He took a step and you went silent. His hand cupped your jaw harshly, pointer finger and thumb on each respective side of it. He pulled you closer by his grip.

“I thought I told you not to lie,” he said, squeezing your cheeks. “Did it not register in that pretty head of yours?”

Your lower lip trembled deliciously, eyes tinted with a hint of fear. “Coriolanus…”

“Call me Coryo. Like you did that day with the snakes.”

There was a change in your expression: widened eyes turning normal again, lips curving into a soft smile as you pried his hand off. He let you, god knows why. Maybe because everything turned uncalculated when he was around you or maybe because he wanted you to listen to what he said.

But you just said, “I’ll call you that when you earn it.”

His blood boiled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”

“Sejanus is waiting for me outside, Coriolanus,” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder teasingly. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

He grit his teeth. “Do you think this is a game?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Is it?”

He held his outburst enough for you to leave—then, he punched the nearest surface and let out a loud groan. A threat, definitely. A dangerous one. But he’d tear it out of you—these sensations similar to his that he knew you felt.

And how could you be of real danger to him when he was just as much of a threat to you?

***

When Dr. Gaul and Casca Highbottom announced an ‘educational school trip to district eight’, everyone thought they were joking.

They were, in fact, not. They took the train for almost ten hours—by the end of it, everyone was weary and irritable. Dr. Gaul told everyone to pay special attention and care to their partners and make sure they were safe, and despite the tiring trip, Coriolanus took on his task with the utmost importance.

“What are you doing?” you asked him as he, for the third time, slung his arm around you to pull you away from passing wagons.

“Protecting you, like Dr. Gaul told us to.”

You snorted a laugh. “I’m sure she didn’t mean from horses.”

“Horses can be dangerous.”

You just rolled your eyes. His arm stayed draped around your shoulders for the rest of the walk. When you arrived at the inn, Coriolanus leaned close to you abruptly and placed a kiss on your cheek. Before you got the chance to even think of protesting, he was gone.

The next day all of you were to join Highbottom in his speech in front of the district people.

It was a simple stage made of wood—the people stood spread out on a small square in front. There were almost too many to fit.

You, as students, were not supposed to do anything in particular other than stand there and look pretty. Coriolanus made the effort to assure you you were splendid at it already, his fingers fanning over your waist. It sent shivers down your spine, and he smiled in self-satisfaction. You cursed him for his perceptiveness as the two of you walked onto stage.

Coriolanus was far from relaxed as his eyes scanned the crowd. You just had to wear that godforsaken skirt in front of a bunch of starved men. If he could, he’d tear all their eyes out. Starting with that brown-haired asshole in the first row. As Higbottom began his speech, Coriolanus walked up to you and stood purposefully a bit in front, as though to cover you.

“Is it not impractical to wear a skirt today?” he asked, sending you a pointed look.

“It’s quite warm,” you replied, blinking up at him. “Do you not like it? I wore it for you.”

He clenched his jaw, heart swelling in pride. Of course he liked it—a little too much to be considered appropriate—but not for everyone to see. He leaned down almost indiscernibly, but you felt his hot breath fan your lips.

“When I’m president, nobody is going to see you in that skirt except for me.”

You grinned. “When you’re president? What exactly is the extent of your ambition, Mr. Snow?”

“You are.”

His pupils were expanded, fingers snaking to hold you by the waist. If anyone noticed, he didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter anyway. His fingers found their way under your uniform and he observed attentively as your eyes widened, teeth sinking into your lower lip when he caressed your bare side.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go,” Highbottom said, signaling his speech was finished.

Coriolanus let go of you. The lot of you moved, surrounded by peacekeepers until you reached the truck ramp. You walked first, carefully placing your steps.

But you only managed to take three of them before something—someone, to be precise—pulled your leg to the side and you fell.

Your brain barely registered the pain of your bare knee hitting the ramp before you were no longer on the ramp, but the ground. An ache spread along your side. Coriolanus shouted your name as he jumped down from the ramp, despite Highbottom’s screams at him to stay but.

The man who had pulled you down, who Coriolanus recognized as the hungry-eyed man from the first row, pulled out a knife from his pocket. He lounged just as you froze, unmoving spare for the trembling of your lips. Coriolanus grabbed him and pushed him down; but not before he had managed to sink the knife into your calf. He heard you scream.

“Help her!” he roared at the peacekeepers, who had their weapons raised at the man who was trying to get up from the ground, but weren’t firing.

Coriolanus, enraged, ripped out the gun from one of the peacekeepers’ hands. He heard some words of protest but ignored them entirely as he pulled the trigger. And again. And again. And again. Until the man was more holes than flesh.

“Help her, for fuck’s sake!” he roared again; this time they listened and gathered around you.

He spared only a glance at your bleeding figure, then turned to the rest of District eight’s crowd—the part of it that hadn’t thought to flee the scene—and fired again. He heard Sejanus shouting, he heard Highbottom shouting, he heard Dr. Gaul shouting, and the peacekeepers gathered around him like flies, but he listened to none of them. He fired and fired until the magazine was empty and someone tore the weapon out of his hands.

“Coriolanus,” you whispered.

Only now did he fully look at you, at the cut in your leg and at your frightened face. He ran over, relieved nobody tried to stop him, and kneeled next to you along with a clearly useless peacekeeper. There was blood on his white shirt, but not on his fingers when he ran them over your thigh gently. It didn’t look like a deep cut, but it was bleeding a lot.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you hear me? Listen to me!” He grabbed your tear-stained face with one hand and turned it so you were looking into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay. Don’t close your eyes.”

When you didn’t reply, he shook you a little bit. “You’re alright, okay?”

“Okay, Coryo,” you said meekly.

He nodded and tore a piece off his shirt to wrap it below your knee. He was angry, unbelievably so, and felt if he didn’t look at your face now and then he might kill all of them: the peacekeepers, his fellow students, Highbottom. He bore a hatred for them all. But you were the priority; you needed saving.

He heard you whimper, using one hand to hold at his shoulder.

“Why did you…”

He cut you off. “Don’t talk. I’m gonna fix this. You’re okay. Keep your eyes open.”

You obeyed for as long as you could, for as long as it took for the medics to arrive and carry you away; then, you let yourself drift off.

***

When you first woke up, you were met with Coriolanus’ perceptive eyes staring back at you.

“Coryo?” you asked.

“How do you feel? Does it hurt?”

You wanted to answer, but your mouth felt as if it were made of lead. Coriolanus shouted for the nurses to bring you water, yet before he had even turned his head to you again, you were fast asleep. He sighed.

***

The cut wasn’t deep.

That’s what the doctors from district eight said, their heads hung low in shame. You were alone upon waking this time, spare for the nurse they had left to take care of you.

“Coriolanus,” you said. “Where is he?”

“He just left to get some rest, ma’am. We sent him away for an hour fifteen minutes ago. He’d been sitting here all night.”

“I want to see him.”

“It would be unwise to deny him his sl—”

You stood up and walked out, much to the nurses’ dismay.

After a ride to the inn in which all of you were staying, you walked into the hallway that you knew belonged to the boys.

You had no idea where Coriolanus’ room was, but thankfully you met Sejanus just as he was leaving his room.

His eyes lit up as he saw you. “Y/N! You’re okay, thank god. I was so wor—”

“Where is Coryo?”

He stopped, smile falling the littlest bit. “Last room to the left.”

You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks.”

You knocked on the door three times and stood silent, waiting. After half a minute, you heard his voice—husky and deep—telling you to come in.

He was standing by the window, looking out at the desolate district eight. The back of his new shirt was just barely holding out the strain his muscles created as he crossed his arms.

You cleared your throat. “Coriolanus.”

Clearly not expecting it to be you, Coriolanus turned on his heel, sporting a smile as he saw your face. You had changed clothes—another tiny skirt and shirt adorned your body. You were walking without difficulty, just like the doctors had foreseen, perhaps even more confidently, with your head high.

He expected you throw yourself into his arms, or maybe pull his hair and kiss him, but he absolutely didn’t expect you to cross your arms over your chest and ask him:

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Sorry?” he asked, frowning.

You took a step back, biting the inside of your cheek. “What have you done? What have you done, Coriolanus?”

He looked into your eyes in search of disgust, terrified, but found only worry. You were worried for him. Not them, not that man, not your reputation and the rumors—you were worried for him.

His gaze flicked down to your bare legs, no scar left from the incident, and then up to where your stop was squeezing your tits together. Did you come in here to scold or seduce him? He really could not tell.

He took a step in your direction, reveling in the way your resolve was starting to fade, lower lip trembling. “I was protecting you.”

“You didn’t have to kill him! You didn’t have to kill them all like animals!”

At this, something switched. He snorted, almost mockingly. Against your will, you felt your panties getting sticky when he walked closer and closer, until he had you backed against the wall. One of his hands rested next to your head while the other he ran over your cheek, stopping to cup your jaw.

“You don’t think he would have aimed higher if he’d gotten the chance? You don’t think you’d be dead if it weren’t for me?” His hot breath landed on your lips and you swallowed. He dragged his finger along your lower lip and you opened your mouth obediently, making his lips curve into a smile. “Now be a good girl and say thank you.”

Your legs rubbed against one another subtly. “Thank you, Coryo.”

“For what?” He slapped the inside of your thigh, making you jolt.

“For protecting me.”

His fingers crawled up your thigh to soothe the place he had slapped, rubbing small circles against your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing, how damp your panties were and how you had to press your lips together in order to avoid letting a whimper slip. The poor lighting cast shadows on his face, blonde curls falling just above his eyes.

He was devouring you even though he’d barely touched you.

“You’re trembling,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“It’s the cut.”

He tsked, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Liars don’t get rewards, sweetheart. I thought I’d made that clear.”

He saw your nipples straining against the thin fabric of your shirt and tightened his jaw. You were here to seduce him, definitely. His desperate little girl. Funny how you had such a dirty mouth until his hands were on you—then, you seemed to go entirely limp and thoughtless. One of his hands snaked to the back of your head, the other stayed touching your thigh—too far away from the place you wanted it to be.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes to reach him, but he just pulled you down by your hair.

“No. Not until you beg me for it.”

You scoffed shakily, reclaiming the very remnants of your dignity. “I won’t beg you for a kiss.”

He pressed his chest against your sensitive tits, pulling at your hair so your noses were touching.

“Don’t I deserve it after everything I’ve done for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“But you liked it,” he remarked, sliding his warm hand up your shirt, until he could fiddle with the hem of your panties. His fingers tapped against your clothed pussy only once, making you jolt, before returning to the spot between your hip and leg. “You liked having someone kill for you. Just as you like when I touch you and when I care for your attention.”

“I don’t—”

“I think you’ve had a little too much being a brat, though. Now it’s my turn.” He slapped your pussy through the fabric and this time, you didn’t manage to hold back a whimper. “Beg. Me.”

“Please,” you whispered, face hot.

“What was that?” He pretended not to hear, leaning down even more. You wanted to punch him for his self-importance, for his cruelty, but it was what you craved, too—you’d take everything he gave you, although you’d never say it out loud.

“Please kiss me.”

His hands left you entirely before they cupped either of your cheeks. Your heart hammered in excitement watching Coryo’s eyes feeding on the sight of you. He lowered his head slowly, connecting your lips so softly you almost didn’t feel it. You tried to grab his collar and bring him closer, but then he just pulled away and sent you a pointed look which made you retract your hands.

Then, he kissed you again—this time pressing harder against you, making your eyes flutter shut. His fingers held you softly, as though you could break any moment, but his lips enveloped yours like he had been waiting for the opportunity for years.

You opened your mouth immediately as he licked at your lower lip and he hummed in appreciation. His fingers tilted your head as he slipped his tongue inside. He was hot against your own tongue, swirling and exploring, not letting you breathe out anything except small, timid whimpers. He smelled like roses, tasted like them too.

Your hands wandered to his broad shoulders, then down his clothed chest, his solid muscles against your fingertips. They flexed underneath your touch, a throaty groan of Coryo’s disappearing in your conjoined mouths. Your mouth watered at merely the thought of seeing them bare, seeing him.

Coriolanus pulled away only when he had to take a breath—angry at this humane obstacle in his way but soothed upon seeing your swollen, parted lips.

“You’re nothing without me,” he rasped out, trapping your jaw between his thumb and pointer. “Say it back.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. “I’m nothing without you.”

He pushed you against the wall, lips against your jawline. He sucked a mark into your neck and you mewled out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair. His tongue ran over your throat, then swirled around your collarbones as he pressed wet kisses to them and your stomach.

Once he reached the waistband of your skirt, he dropped to his knees, looking up. You felt something turn in your stomach; the heat between your legs intensified tenfold.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs languidly. Once gone from your body, he picked them up and dangled them in front of your face. You tried snatching them from him, but he just stuffed them into the pocket of his pants.

“For later,” he said, smiling. “To remind me what a desperate little girl you are.”

“I’m not—”

He cut you off by bunching your skirt up around your hips. The cold air made you shiver lightly, but his eyes set on the most intimate part of you like he was about to eat you didn’t really help, either.

Before you could look away from embarrassment, he dragged his nose through your slick folds. You let out a choked gasp as he came in contact with your clit. His hands slid up to your upper thighs, squeezing and prying them apart so you weren’t in the way for him to take his time. And he did take his time—painfully so.

After almost five minutes of aimless fingers trailing over your cunt but never touching for too long and never on your clit, you let out a loud whine, legs fighting against his grip to close. To no avail, of course—Coryo was much stronger than you and very intent on keeping you in place.

“Be patient,” he murmured into your heat. His eyes flicked up as a warning and you instantly stilled.

His tongue finally touched you in the form of small kitten licks on your clit that made your breath ragged and fists tighten. He saw you tightening around nothing, heard you whining pathetically for more and mercifully let his tongue enter your warmth. You clenched around him immediately.

He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily to look up at your pretty face twisted in clear rapture.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

When you didn’t answer, he brought down his hand to swat at your clit disapprovingly. You squirmed at the contact, slick practically dripping out of your cunt. His eyes met yours and you quivered, suddenly afraid he’d stop.

“Yes,” you whimpered. “So much.”

As a reward, he pushed two fingers into your pussy, watching as you gasped for air, furrowing your brows. He scissored them a little bit, then dipped his thumb into the arousal coating your cunt and let it rub small circles into your already puffy clit.

Your legs felt weak already and he must have sensed this, because he grabbed your thigh and positioned it on his shoulder. This way, he could curl his fingers enough to hit the spot which made you whimper so loudly it was shameful.

Soon, his thumb was replaced with his mouth that sucked your tiny clit into his mouth.

He heard you moan his name and felt his pants tighten significantly. Part of him hoped everyone could hear the noises you were making, while another part of him felt the urge to murder anyone who dared even overhear these sounds that were innately his possession.

From his position, he could see your tits brushing against your thin shirt and cursed himself for not being in a spot that would allow him to play with them. He’d have to settle for playing with your cute little cunt.

Your legs started shaking when he added another finger to pump in and out of your dripping hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking into his face. “Feels so good, Coryo, thank you.”

A guttural moan of his vibrated through your body and you cried out his name. A warm coil began tightening in your lower stomach. It was clear you were close—from the way your whimpers had grown unabashed and squeaky, the way you clenched around his long fingers, the way your hips stuttered against his tongue.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I’m so close— Can I come?”

So polite, he thought. Shame you only acted like this when his tongue was flicking at your clit.

His eyes glimmered as he looked up at you. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Please, please, let me come, please, Coryo.” You let out a broken moan as his teeth grazed your clit. “Please.”

Your legs spasmed around his head as you felt it close, so close, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure.

But then it was ripped from you, this bliss, as Coriolanus pulled out his fingers and retracted his tongue, leaving you empty and stunned. You stared at him, lips parted, and at the self-satisfied smile adorning his features.

“What, you really thought I’d let you come when you’ve been acting like a brat?” He licked his fingers and something throbbed between your legs. “Stupid girl.”

He stood up, turning his back on you. You couldn’t see it, of course, but he was silently counting the seconds it took for you to protest against the treatment. Finally, you retrieved your consciousness in full and pushed yourself off the wall.

“Wait, Coryo,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm. “Please. I’m sorry.”

He turned, raising his brows. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a good girl now, I promise.” Your lower lip quivered; he saw the promise of tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m gonna make it up to you, okay?”

At this, you sank to your knees—a sight which made his adam’s apple bob. But he was getting impatient; his cock was aching painfully and when you looked at him with eyes widened and teary like this, he was willing to give you anything in the world.

“Get up,” he demanded.

You did as told, thighs trembling slightly, and his hands cupped your cheeks. Coriolanus led you to the bed in the middle of the room, hovering above you with his forearms on either side of your face. His hardened cock rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants. He laid it against your plush thigh for relief, but all he got was a slutty mewl from you and more precum leaking from his tip.

“Sejanus is next door, you know. You don’t mind?”

“No.” You shook your head eagerly. “I don’t care. Just want your cock.”

The side of his mouth lifted as his hands slipped under your shirt. You gasped as his fingers found your nipples and pinched them, tantalizing your poor clit to start throbbing harder. He pulled the skimpy shirt over your head and threw it away somewhere, letting out an audible groan at the sight of you. Next to go was your skirt.

He stayed staring at you for some time before he suddenly landed a slap to your cunt, making you jolt with a whimper. Then, he leaned to press open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking the skin that covered your pulse into his mouth.

His lips grazed your jaw. “You want him to hear, then? Is that it?”

“N-no,” you whispered shakily, feeling the tips of his fingers teasing your perky nipples. “No, Coryo, just want you.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you, Coryo, only you. I’m yours.”

Coriolanus let your fingers slip under his shirt, letting out a shaky breath as you traced his abdominal muscles. He helped you pull it over his head, then he pulled down his pants and briefs as well. You watched hazily at his cock free from its restraints, certain if he’d tease you anymore you would start drooling for real.

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing—he slapped his dick against your clit once, twice, watching you squirm, then positioned himself at your entrance.

Your foreheads touched as he pushed inside agonizingly slowly.

“I’m yours, too,” he whispered against your mouth.

He was decently thick and longer than average—even lying still in your cunt, he reached places your fingers couldn’t dream of. Your eyes had a hard time staying open in facing the fullness which came with having him inside, but he was having none of it.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he said.

“But you’re not even fucking me.”

You felt his cock pulse inside you before his hands roughly grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your chest. This newfound angle was overwhelming in itself—when he additionally began thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt, you saw stars. You let out small noises, but he paid them no mind, leaning forward to have a good look at your face.

“Who knew the academy’s best student was such a fucking slut?” he tilted his head, ignoring your nails clawing at his biceps. “Guess words aren’t enough, hmm? I need to fuck that arrogance out of my sweet girl?”

You didn’t reply; he didn’t expect you to. His cock found that spot that made your toes curl faster than you could have expected. When he hit it for the first time, you let out a whimper close to a shriek in volume. Instead of slowing down, he just went harder, his hips slapping against yours in the otherwise silent room. He thought Sejanus probably was able to hear it all.

It was easy for him to slip his thumb between your parted lips; even easier to coax you with a gentle slap to your slack jaw to suck on it. Your mouth wrapped around it and he groaned, pushing your thighs further against your tits. He saw your eyes glossing over, felt your poorly suppressed moans against his finger.

And god, you were so compliant to his touch, so perfect.

“Spread your legs,” Coryo said, moving his hands away.

You obeyed to your best ability, practically letting your thighs fall limply at your sides. He spread them further and sank deep into your dripping pussy. Your slick had made a mess of the sheets below, creating a small puddle in the white material.

His fingers grabbed both of your wrists and placed them on your lower stomach. One of his hands kept them in place while the other played with your sensitive nipples, twisting them until a couple tears escaped your eyes.

“Don’t move your hands.”

When you nodded weakly, both his hands grabbed your waist, guiding you back and forth to meet his relentless thrusts. He could see the vague outline of his cock in your stomach, your tits bouncing deliciously before him with each abusing rut into your cunt.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, lightly tapping at your clit.

Your walls sucked him in like it was all you were made for, fluttering around his cock and leaving a creamy ring at the base of it. He wanted to fill you up—not only with his cock, but with his cum, wanted to watch it leak out onto this bed, wanted to hear you beg him to stop. Him, only him. He wanted you forever.

Coryo leaned down to connect his lips to yours, teeth napping at your lower lip. You were whimpering, mewling his name, and he tightened his grip on your waist. He pushed you further down on his cock, again and again.

“How does being the first lady of Panem sound, huh?”

You just nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks in reaction to his cock bullying the gummy spot in your cunt.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, rubbing tight circles into your clit. “I’d give you everything you want. You hear me, sweetheart? Everything.”

His hips rutted into you so roughly your vision was hazy, but clear enough to grab at his sturdy shoulders. You had disobeyed what he said, but it seemed he was unaware, chasing his own high.

His cock was thrusting into the right spot repeatedly, fingers maneuvering your clit so that you almost screamed, slick practically gushing out of your hole.

“Fuck,” you whined out, feeling your pussy pulsating. “Coryo, I’m—”

“Yeah, I know. Come for me, sweetheart.”

You let go and so did he—seed spilling into your cunt as you clenched around him. You sobbed his name and in an attempt to soothe you, he planted kisses along your collarbones. He let you ride out your orgasm against his hand before he pulled out.

Vaguely, you could see his cum spilling out of you and onto the sheets.

Before you could even make an attempt at calming down your heart rate, he stuck two of his fingers into you again.

“Too much,” you whimpered, but he paid you no mind, stuffing his cum back into your swollen cunt. Too tired to move, you let him do it, only mewling his name softly from time to time.

Once he was done, he licked his fingers clean and smiled alluringly. You scooted closer to kiss him—he tasted of you and him combined. His hands cupped your face as you both lay down, facing one another.

“You’re nothing without me, either,” you said, running your finger down his exposed chest. “Mr. President.”

His grin widened. “That’s right, sweetheart.”

TAGLIST: @peterpan-neverfails @urfavevirgoo @sayyysss @hwajin @hoshiseon @atrwriting

also big thank you to kathy, kiza and lex for being my enablers! ilyy

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader

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jkslipppiercing · 3 months

Text

Never Been A Friend | Part 1 | Jeon Jk

♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion, desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?

♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.

♧ warnings: y/n is too drunk to form a sentence, jungkook loves cursing, jungkook is jealous out of his mind, kinda enemies but not really, jungkook calls y/n a brat that he cant stand, someone calls y/n a slut, and that's all i can remember 😙

♧ WC: 1.6K

♧ a/n: hello loves! wrote this in one sitting and it's barely edited, but the intention is there lmao i love you all so much please enjoy! dont hesitate to tell me what you think <3 im like the no.1 supporter for constructive criticism lol okay thank you byeeeee

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JK's POV

She whines,

Throws tantrums,

Acts like a goddamn brat for the sake of being annoying,

And I still want her lips around my cock.

Why?

That goes beyond the fucking level of my emotional understanding.

I want her wrapped around my finger. I want her to get on her fucking knees and apologize for all the turbulent feelings she makes me suffer by.

She ruined my night.

I was fucking.

Blowing a girl's back just to lay off some steam. Get the stress of the college life off my shoulders.

But then, she just had to cock-block me.

My best friend’s sister.

Speaking of the twat, he dared to interrupt my one night stand for the sake of his bratty sister.

Usually, I love brats.

My type.

They make sex enjoyable. All the more pleasurable when they try to resist.

Keyword: try.

Because I know for a damn straight fact when a girl wants to be disciplined.

Fucked right and put in her place.

Reminds me of her. Y/L/N Y/N.

Except for one thing, though- she makes my fucking insides churn in all uncomfortable ways.

She doesn’t have a bratty attitude, the bitch has a bratty personality.

Yes, she is indeed a bitch. I can't stand a girl who's always annoying just because she feels like it. She'd never had a valid reason to hate me, and neither did I.

When I first met her, I mean.

She was laughing with her brother having breakfast one time when I came out of my room for painkillers and a glass of water.

Her brother and I were both freshmen in need of a dorm, and we agreed on splitting the rent once in a frat party.

Yes... we were both strangers to each other, but we clicked.

Met through mutuals, and our vibes matched. After living with each other for over six months now, we've grown pretty close.

He's cool, agreed on basic rules like who does the laundry or dishes, helped with assignments, and was always there when needed.

He's a friend. A close one.

A tolerable one.

That can't be said about a certain someone, though.

She scowled at me that day and later told me she didn't like my vibe when I confronted her about it.

Bullshit.

And yet, she's the reason I left a naked girl in my bed and came to this godforsaken club in the first place.

Her brother is here, too, which is why he called me to come pick her up. Said something about her being drunk, and since he had taken a shot or two as well, he couldn't take her home himself.

Or he just didn't want to, because he was also getting laid tonight.

That's proven to be right when I see him making out with a girl near the bathrooms.

His hands grope her all over as she arches into him, which is enough to make me look away.

Sly motherfucker.

Casting my vision toward the main dance floor, I scan the crowd for a short brunette with soft features.

Annoyingly soft features.

So soft that I want to corrupt her. Tear the bratty exterior and dig through the filthy dark side on the inside.

But those features aren't the only things that infuriate the hell out of me.

It's her innocence.

How can a brat be innocent, you may ask?

When my gaze lands on her, my jaw tenses in annoyance.

She sways her hips sensually, eyes closed and mouth open as she slides her hands down her body to a seductive beat following her movements.

I follow the action, eyes unable to tear away from her figure.

Her fingers skim over her neck down to her breasts and then further, the lightness she seems to be handling her body with attending to a grace she always breathed by.

Fuck, I hate this woman.

Hate everything about her.

How she moves.

How she walks.

How she fucking talks.

Runs her mouth like a brat who needs to be handled.

No- not like- is.

She is a brat.

A brat who's oblivious to all the eyes she's attracting.

Including mine.

Fuck.

Her dancing resumes as her eyes stay closed, feeling every beat.

She's enjoying herself.

Not for long.

I school my expression- which had turned into a scowl the moment I set my eyes on her- and begin my stride towards her.

I spot a man doing the same, but she's absolutely mind-numb as she continues to dance with her damn eyes closed.

I was irritated, but now I'm literally fed up.

He's a couple inches shorter than me, wearing a white tee and skinny ripped jeans.

Not to mention, his hair is slicked back by a disgusting amount of hair gel.

Ew.

He approaches Y/N with predatory eyes and a shit eating grin, his gaze set straight on her perky ass.

Which is just barely covered by the tight little dress she's wearing, inching higher and higher up her thighs as we speak.

My steps quicken when I see him reach out, apparently intending to slap her ass.

My blood boils.

White noise drowns out all available access to the outside world as I break out into a jog and reach her just in time.

My hand swiftly slides onto her tiny waist, and I glare at the man whose shit-eating grin is now gone, replaced with confusion.

Y/N's eyes stay closed as she giggles, and it's now I notice how drunk she is.

Bright crimson tints her cheeks and her breath smells of strong tequila, obviously from having taken too many shots.

Isn't she here with friends?

How could they leave her alone like this?

Her brother's here. Her brother is here.

My breath turns heavy, my heartbeat quickening. I have to stop myself from punching the douchebag in front of me into fucking oblivion because I don't know if i'll ever stop once I start.

Fuck.

I try to focus on anything besides her frame that's barely hanging onto me, all the exhaustion from her dancing catching up to her as she fights to keep her eyes open.

Why the fuck is she here all alone? Why did they- whoever she's here with, except her brother- leave her here like this?

Like she's not even aware of where she is.

Like she's not sober enough to be responsible.

Like she's not fucking strong enough to defend herself if anything happened to her.

I might punch a wall.

My grip tightens around her waist, which makes her drowsily lift her head to stare up at me.

She's still shorter than me with heels on, enough to put her neck in an uncomfortable position whenever she looks up at me.

It's adorable.

But that's none of my concerns as the slimy fuck keeps undressing her with his eyes. Makes me want to claw them out with my bare hands.

Repress.

"Wha..." She starts, growing more and more confused as she tries to wrap her head around where the hell she is. "Jungkook? What are you..."

She trails off into a mindfuck, allowing me to set my full focus on the man still staring between us with wariness.

My gaze hasn't worn off him since I saw him fucking reach for her ass, which makes me want to bash his head against the wall.

My breathing turns heavy again.

Repress.

"Off-limits." I bite out with enough to control to shock myself. I'm even more surprised that this motherfucker is still breathing.

His eyes thin into slits as he eyes me suspiciously. "I haven't seen you here the last couple of hours. Thought her sexy ass came alone." His eyes skim over her body, gaze lingering longer than necessary on her breasts.

Guess someone's leaving with no limbs tonight.

"You thought wrong." It takes almost all the last bits of my control to reply with that before I start turning around to leave, Y/N almost falling asleep on my arm.

She clutches the hem of my shirt with a weak grip, like a toddler would its mom.

If I couldn't get here in time, what would've happened?

I catch myself before I overthink it. If I did, I'm afraid I might commit a crime tonight. One of shameless blood and murder-

Repress.

My back is turned to him when I hear a low whistle, which makes me pause, angry enough for my limbs to shake with adrenaline.

"You know, It's often rare for a slut with such a sweet ass to be out here all alone wearing that. Almost like she's begging for a cock-"

The words are barely out of his mouth before my fist connects with his face. The force of my blow got him on the floor, nose fucked and bleeding. Might be broken.

Good. Bare minimum.

I almost straddle him and punch him to his fucking fortunate death.

Almost.

But I have to get Y/N home.

I can't stand this anymore.

I can't stand her anymore.

Coming here alone? Dressed like that?

I mean yes, she did come here with her idiot brother who thinks with his dick, but he's nowhere to be found.

How can someone be so nonchalant to just leave his sister here all alone?

I'm so goddamn confused.

And infuriated.

And...angry.

Fucking fuck.

I need to get her the fuck out of here before i lose my fucking mind.

Fuck me.

The punch I just delivered did little to satiate my thirst for this slimy fucker's blood.

But again, Y/N's more important.

I turn, my panic spiking so high it reaches levels it had never before when I find Y/N out of my sight.

My breathing starts to go abnormal for the nth time this night.

I might develop heart problems.

A sigh leaves my mouth when I spot her by the bars, trying to convince the bartender to give her another shot. Relief floods my system, and my breaths regulate.

I send a quick text the girl- who i already forgot the name of- and tell her to head home. She sends a crying emoji back but agrees nonetheless, telling me to call her back when everything is sorted out on my end.

I have other things to care for.

Or I guess, in this case, a certain person to tend to.

God, It's gonna be a long night.

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma @yourbobaeyestell

did you like it 👀

@laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa-vvv-blog

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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months

Text

Unattainable

Pairing: Mafia!Jenson Button x Assistant!Reader

Words: 1.4K

Rating: R

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Okay so imagine Jenson had to travel for a business meeting with the Webber’s. Normally whenever he goes abroad for work, he wouldn’t bring his assistant but the time zones make it difficult for him to remain in touch with her so he brings her along. They arrive a day or so before Jenson has this meeting and they spend it at the private beach attached to the villa he rented where she tries to read her book while Jenson goes for a swim. Lewis’ words have never left her and she tries to sneak glances at him to see if it’s true but the swimming trunks make it hard to make out anything beyond the outline. So, blushing furiously at the fact that she’s checking out her boss, she goes back to her book only for Jenson to drop on the tanning bed next to her with a “if you wanted to see my cock, all you had to do was ask pretty girl”

Warnings: Language, Jenson has a dick piercing, sexual talks, etc.

A/N: Hehehehehe for @enchantecafe and also the gorgeous brilliant mind of Mar @percervall for giving me this delicious idea

"I'm not going, and you can't make me." Jenson wanted to bash his head into the desk before him. All he wanted was for you to join him in gorgeous Balos, Chania, Crete, Greece. With the time zone, he wasn't comfortable leaving you here. He needed you, just like Mark and Lewis would be. "I have work here," You argue further.

"Y/n, pretty girl, I know you have work here, but I need you in Greece with me. This isn't up for a debate." You tap your heel and purse your lips, ready to rip him a new one. "Mr. Button," Jenson groans, knowing you're pissed when you use his last name. "With all due respect, Mr. Button, going to Greece would be ideal for a vacation. As this is a work function and not a vacation, it's not ideal for me to join you. Take Miss. Simpson, she's just as capable." Jenson takes a deep breath and calms the anger bubbling in his stomach.

"Miss. L/n, you will be joining me. You are my assistant, and besides, you know what this work.... function is for, so please save the attitude for when we're there." Jenson glares at you, and you stop, knowing you are pushing the buttons now. "When do we leave?" You ask, teeth gritted, tapping your foot harder now. "Tonight, your bags have already been packed." You make a noise of annoyance, turn on your heel, and stomp out. Even in his irritation with you, he still found that the skirt hugged your ass pretty damn well.

You slam your folder down and bitch to yourself but stop noticing the appealing eyes of Lewis Hamilton staring at you from your own chair. "Coming to Greece with us?" He cocks his head with a dopey grin knowing damn well you were going. "Of course, the brat doesn't know how to work without me." Leaning in, you start to whisper. "How in the world is he running an international mafia but can't go to a ridiculous meeting without me?" Lewis chuckles and bites one of his tattooed fingers.

"He needs his emotional support assistant, or else he gets cranky. And you remember what happened the last time he got cranky." You whine, pressing your face into the cold glass counter of your desk. "Lewis, please talk to him. I don't want to go to Greece." Lewis snorts and knows you're lying. "Please, you don't want to go because then you'll find out if that piercing of his is true." Stopping your pity party and glare at Lewis, who smiles at you innocently.

"You know, I packed your clothes for you. Some skimpy swimsuits you've got." Cheeks heat up at the thought of Lewis digging around your swimsuits, mainly your underwear. "Lucky man, whoever gets to peel those off you," You grab a pen, throw it at him, and hear his laughter as he dodges. "Fuck off, the last man I slept with was," You close your mouth, remembering that Spanish accent and thick hair. "I know who it was, does he?" Lewis whispers, nodding towards Jenson, who has Mark at his side.

"No, and it's none of his business." But you hate the guilt that eats up at you. He was just a way to forget. Instead, you couldn't help but compare the two. How you didn't feel the same when Jenson touched you, how he called you pretty girl, all you wanted was for it to be Jenson that was buried deep in you. "Your face says otherwise," Lewis's voice shifts from teasing to that of the overprotective friend that he is.

"What?" You turn back to face Lewis, who is boring a hole in your face. "He won't be there, just us, Jenson and Mark." You nod and feel Jenson's hand touch your back. "If we're all ready, we can leave now." Jenson's hand stays on your back, making your skin burn to life. "Let's get this over with," You pull away, feeling cold slap you in the face. Mark chuckles and picks up your bags as you four leave, heading for Greece.

-------------------------------------------

"Just wear it." Lewis urges, shoving the swimsuit into your hands. "Lewis, this is very...revealing. You just had to pick one of my most revealing ones." You huff, holding up the thin fabric. Lewis just smiles at you and nudges your shoulder. "Y/n, come on. We're at a private villa on the beach. No one except for us will see you. Please, just wear it and have fun." Lewis pouts, and you try to ignore it but know you can't.

"Okay," Lewis jumps off your bed and exits the room. Leaving you to throw on the swimsuit. Putting it on, you stare at yourself in the mirror; you don't turn, hear the door open, and see Lewis stop and stare at you. "Fuck, you look damn good. You'll definitely make Jenson come in his pants." You turn and smack his shoulder and stare at the "one-piece."

It's held together by one material dyed with orange, dark brown, and other colors. It's got a little wood circle holding the neck and top part together, and it's cut out, showing off your underboob and also your stomach. "Okay, let's go." You walk out of the room and to the open air.

"Goddamn, if I wasn't married," "Shut up, Mark." You giggle and saunter over to where Jenson is lying, a towel covering his lap as he tries not to stare. He's thankful for the sunglasses as his eyes rake over your body. "What are you reading?" You ask, plopping yourself onto the sunbed next to Jenson, who fidgets. "One of your books," He hands it over, and you smile and bookmark the page he was on.

"It's hot," You sigh and move, stretching out, and Jenson watches you closely, never been more grateful for the towel he's placed on his lap. "Yes, it is," Licking his lips, he sees you stand and run over to Lewis and Mark on the beach. Sighing, he drops his head, lifts the towel, and groans, seeing that he is very hard. He can't stand up, knowing he'd never hear the end from Mark or Lewis if he stood up.

Jenson watches you and smiles, seeing you having fun. He relaxes thinking about everything he'd love to give you. "Jenson, come join us!" Mark yells, but you turn and climb out of the ocean. He bites his lip, seeing the waterfall off your body and how your skin glows with happiness and sun. "Jens, go join them. They want to play water volleyball." You run up and stand before him, and he has to control the urge to pull you down on top of him and kiss you senselessly.

"Yeah," The word comes out choked, and he pulls himself towards the edge and comes face to face with your breasts. "Shit," He grumbles, wanting to run his fingers over the curves of them and pull the top off and fuck you profoundly and properly. Your breathing becomes ragged, feeling the way his eyes move over your body. "Jenson! Come one!" Mark yells, pulling the two of you out of your little bubble. "Yeah, coming!" Jenson stands up and moves away from you.

Swallowing you suck in a breath and breathe out. "Read, reading is good." You whisper to yourself, trying to stop yourself now. Lewis runs up and throws himself into the chair to your left, leaving Jenson's chair open. "I always loved this time; he wears thin suits, and we always tease him about the piercing." You groan, trying your hardest not to stare openly. Instead, you settle for sneaking glances, hating Lewis for reminding you of the piercing.

"All I can see is the fucking outline," Whining, you hate that Jenson fucking Button has reduced you to this whining mess. "I'm checking out my boss; what the hell. I hate you, Lewis Hamilton. Seriously, I've been perfectly normal working with him. Now all I can think about is him," "Fucking you so good he ruins you for other men, and feeling the way the piercing feels?" Lewis fills in, and you tighten your legs, biting your bottom lip. You go to reply but stop seeing Jenson within earshot and turn bright red when you know that he's grinning.

He drops to the sun bed next to you and rolls his waistband, revealing the happy trail and muscle. "Pretty girl, if you wanted to see my cock, all you had to do was ask." Jenson groans, getting comfortable, and you whip your head straight as Jenson rolls to the side. "I'm serious; ask me, pretty girl." He almost begs, and you turn your eyes wide, and you hate the ache between your legs. "Jenson?" He hums, and you sigh, working up the courage and smile.

"Can I see your cock?" Jenson smiles, and fingers curl around your throat and pull you in. "Of course,"

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orinfucker · 7 months

Text

bite me

summary: astarion decides he should reward you for being such a generous thing to him these last few weeks, and who are you to decline?

warnings: fem!reader, very little plot, slight degradation, praise, dom!astarion, dumbification, vampire biting, blood, begging, slight breath play, fingering, reader has a small hand kink, astarion is a tease, aftercare, fluff at the end

note: i haven’t written anything in months so i apologize in advance if this isn’t that good <\3 anyways i love this sad vampire man more than most things rn

“ah, hello my dear.” a certain pale elf spoke, sauntering towards your spot near the crackling fire. you smiled soft, offering him a nod to sit besides you. the air was cold this night - shivers ran along your spine as the breeze drifted throughout the woods surrounding camp. “i can’t believe how cold it’s gotten already, my bedroll barely keeps me warm enough these days.” you begrudgingly said, rubbing the flesh of your palms up and down the exposed skin of your arms.

astarion chuckled at your annoyance, amused at how the smallest changes caused your emotions to flutter. “well darling, you could always come to me if your looking for some warmth.” a rush of pink flooded your cheeks at his remark; you were used to his flirting, but it still never failed to get a reaction out of you. “plus i’ve been meaning to, well, express my thanks to you.” you looked up towards the vampire, a confused expression cast upon your face. “what would you need to be thanking me for exactly?”

he grinned slyly before leaning down to grab your chin between his cold fingers, lifting your head slightly so your eyes connected with his piercing red ones. “for offering me that delicious blood of yours, my sweet. i’d be but a pathetic man if not for your generosity.” a jolt ran through your body at his words, and your thighs tried their best to not clench as he licked his lips at the sight of your exposed neck.

“and.. and how exactly would you be expressing your thanks towards me for that?” you meekly replied. astarion stifled a laugh at your whispered tone, he always knew you were easily flustered by his words. “with sex, darling. unless you’re not interested? though i think we both know that’d be a lie.” just his words were enough to get you riled up - pathetic, you thought. there was no point in denying his claims either, he already knew what you desired from him. a shaky breath left your mouth before you finally replied, “please.”

astarion smirked, “already begging.. have you craved me that badly, pet?” your head nodded instantly, lust clouding over your eyes as the man in front of you assisted you to your feet. “let’s head to my tent then, hm? i wouldn’t want to keep my needy pup waiting.” the elf led you towards his tent, one of his hands supporting your lower back as you bent down to shimmy past the opening.

astarion was quick to push you onto the ground, crawling over your quivering body before finally hovering right above your plump lips. your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his right hand snuck up to cup your cheek. “you’re beautiful, my dear.” his voice sounded soft, causing a low whine to escape from you. his lips grazed your own for just a moment before moving to leave small pecks along the sides of your jaw, the feeling of his fangs nipping your skin every so often.

“astarion, please.” you whined, craving the touch of the vampire currently sprawled on top of you. “patience, darling. you’ll have me soon enough.” a slight roll of your eyes caught the elf’s attention, his eyebrow twitching at your apparent attitude. “oh? do you intend on being a brat?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, the hand once on your cheek now trailing to apply pressure to your neck. the breath in your throat hitched as nervous eyes met cold, red ones - a sense of submission washing over your mind as you began to shake your head in response. astarion hummed, satisfied with your answer - “good girl.”

the pressure on your throat lessened as his hand trailed down your front before finally resting right above the heat of your cunt. your hips moved on their own as they rolled into the palm of his hand, releasing a groan from the depths of your throat. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” astarion’s hand began to slowly rub against your clothed cunt, enticing moan after moan to leave your lips as his ministrations continued. “hah - fuck!” your teeth dug into the flesh of your lips, the smallest drop of blood leaking from them in response. the vampire immediately leaned down towards your lips, enveloping them in a sloppy kiss - his tongue swiping away the blood once on them.

“astarion,” you whispered out, catching the attention of the vampire atop of you. “yes darling?” the movement of his hand stopped, now cupping the warmth of your pussy within it. “bite me.” astarion’s expression darkened as a low growl erupted from his throat, his free hand now grazing the side of your waist. “you drive me mad, pet.” you felt his hot breath upon your neck, sending shivers throughout the course of your body. the points of his teeth grazed the flesh, seemingly teasing you before finally breaking the surface.

astarion moaned as your blood filled his system, becoming lost in the pleasure of your neck. your body arched into his own, whimpers slipping past your lips as black dots began to cloud your vision. “a..astarion-!” his senses came back to him as he delicately removed his fangs from your skin, watching as the two holes oozed with red. before you could say a word, you felt the swipe of his tongue across the wound, cleaning the excess blood off. you contained a whine from coming out as he began to leave small kisses along the now bloodstained area of your flesh.

“you are insatiable, love.” you giggled before enveloping his bloodied lips once again, a more passionate sensation washing over your body. a shocked moan escaped you as the feeling of his hand slipping past your small clothes disrupted your thoughts, the cold of his fingers grazing the mound atop your cunt. “so wet for me, aren’t you?” you could barley think as his digits swirled your clit, one dipping down to tease your entrance. “stop - fuck, teasing me!” a hearty laugh left the elf, amused by your whines of disapproval. “so impatient, whatever will i do with you?”

finally you felt two of his fingers dive into you, a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. he started with slow, precise thrusts, the curl of his digits sending stars to your mind. he slowly worked the insides of your cunt, your walls fluttering against the length of his fingers. when you felt a third digit enter, your entire body shook with pleasure; a response only he could entice from you. “gods,” your mind felt like it was melting with every flick of his hand, and you could already feel an orgasm brewing within.

astarion observed the way your face contorted with pleasure, how your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek and your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched as your body jerked when his fingers reached the deepest parts of you, whines slipping into his ears while your hand shakily came down to wrap around his own. “i, i’m gonna cum-!” he smirked for a moment before increasing the speed of his movements, now ramming his digits in and out of your sopping hole. a bubbling feeling appeared in the depths of your stomach, and you knew it would be moments before you finally were sent over the edge.

astarion noticed the way your thighs closed around his wrist, and how the walls of cunt squeezed against his fingers in desperation. “what a naughty pet i have, hm?” he started, watching your face turn even more flushed then it already was. mantras of please, please, please were all you could muster out, looking into the vampire’s eyes with pleading ones. “go on, cum for me.” you felt your vision go white, a wave of numbness washed over your body before a feeling of relief replaced it. astarion groaned as he felt your cunt spasm with each thrust of his fingers, his jaw clenching with the sight of cum leaking from your hole.

your mind felt blank, every thought in your head vanished from the aftershocks of your orgasm. astarion slowly removed his fingers from your pussy, watching as your hole clenched around nothing from the loss. “how are you feeling, love?” the elf asked, his voice softening as he watched your face melt into a dopey smile. all you did was hum in response, your head still miles away from the current moment. “we can stop here if you’re overwhelmed, pet; i’m sure we’ll have many more opportunities to continue.” you nodded your head just as a yawn managed to slip from your throat, making the vampire smile before standing up to search for a rag.

your eyes followed his every movement, mesmerized by the beauty of the man stood in front of you. astarion glanced towards you, catching your wandering eyes focused on him. “what’s on your mind, my sweet?” he questioned, kneeling back down to wipe off the liquids that coated your thighs. “just looking at you, that’s all.” you mumbled out, hissing lightly as the rag grazed your sensitive cunt. astarion let out a quick apology before the cloth away, throwing it into some lost corner of his tent. “well, you should probably head back to your bedroll love.” a hum left you in response, yet there was no attempt from you to leave his tent. astarion could see the gears turning behind your eyes, immediately knowing there was more that you wanted to say.

“what is it? i can see there’s something you want to ask.” you hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, “could i, maybe, stay here for the night?” astarion seemed taken aback at your question, not used to someone wanting to stay with him willingly. “well, i don’t see why not.” your face lit up at his response, but you quickly calmed yourself down. a quiet thank you left your lips as you watched the vampire crawl towards the space next you, relaxing himself onto the ground before sneaking an arm around your side. your body melted into his own, a sense of comfort consuming your mind as exhaustion took over you. “goodnight, astarion.” the vampire hummed, leaning over to leave a kiss on the top of your forehead. “goodnight my love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion my beloved #astarion smut

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velocesainz · 5 months

Text

You're mine

(LN04)

F1 masterlist | main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Lando joins you in the motogp paddock to support you but overhears some of the other drivers talking about wanting you to ditch Lando for them. What is his reaction?

Warnings: smut, degradation, minors dni

Pairing: Lando x motogp!racer!reader

Lando POV:

I walked into the moto gp paddock in Valencia. Since us, f1 drivers, had winter break I decided to join my girlfriend y/n to support her.

"Lando I have to go for the PR meeting, shouldn't take more than an hour. You can hang around the paddock and explore if you want" y/n told me awaiting an answer.

"Yea of course, I know how to take care of myself you know" I replied slightly amused by how worried she was to leave me alone.

"That's debatable but anyways, see you later babe" y/n said and skipped away.

Damn. I really love her.

I was walking around the paddock when I stumbled outside the Ducati hospitality noticing y/n's friends, Augusto and Fabio, why not say hi?

As I got closer I guess they didn't notice me, they seemed too engrossed in their own conversation.

When I got to hearing distance I caught a glimpse of what they were talking about.

"I know right she's so hot! I wonder why she's single" I heard Fabio say.

Who were they talking about?

"Y/n's not single dipshit, she's with that landi, landa- whatever his name is" Augusto corrected.

"I honestly don't understand what she sees in him. He sounds like a chipmunk and looks like a kid trying to look cool growing a goatee. Look at us! We're literally like god's compared to him" Fabio laughed.

"Honestly though, she's the hottest girl I've seen in my life, and on top of that she races in motogp? Oh! she has my heart. I bet I could satisfy her needs much better than he could. I bet he's like 3" Augusto adding smiling.

"You know, seeing her winning and smiling around the paddock I just want to grab her and just take her right then and there. She's just so irresistible. Did you see her Calvin Klein shoot? I swear I use some of those photos to masturbate" Fabio replied.

"Such a pity. She is so fucking beautiful. Maybe in the future we can share her after stealing her from that dumb spoiled brat boyfriend of hers. Really wish we could stop pretending to not want her every second" Augusto laughed, Fabio laughing with him.

I had heard enough. How could they say that? I thought they were supportive of our relationship. I thought they respected y/n.

I guess not. They clearly wanted her for themselves, they were so disrespectful. How could they say such vile things about their fellow driver?

I left the Ducati hospitality walking back to the Yamaha hospitality to wait for y/n to get back, but in complete fury.

Y/n POV:

I got back from the PR meeting and the rest of my media duties for today were finally done.

I can now spend time with Lando. Poor thing must've waited so long.

I made my way back to the hospitality to find my boyfriend sitting on a chair with his head in his hands. That's odd.

"Hey babe, you ok?" I asked cautiously, maybe he was sleeping? Lando is known after all to sleep in the most random places in the most random positions.

He looked up at me and I saw an almost unrecognisable emotion. Anger, rage mixed with lust?

He grabbed my hand harshly and took me straight to my driver's room.

I saw Fabio and Augusto right next to my room as they were chatting, I waved at them and they waved back giving me a weird look.

Lando threw me into the room and closed the door locking it in the process.

"What is wrong with you Lando?" I asked confused, what had gotten into him all of a sudden?

"Take your clothes off. Right now." He demanded in a cold tone. That was really hot but I wanted to find out what was wrong with him.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong" I said adamant.

"God you're so stubborn. I guess I'll have to do it myself then." He said as he came closer and pinned me to the wall.

He roughly started taking my clothes off "You wanna know what happened? Your so called "friends" who are standing outside this room, were saying absolutely disgusting things about you like how they would take care of you better than I could, how they wished you were their little slut, so they could use you. Let's get you to scream out loud so they can hear how much I satisfy you so don't hold those noises back love" he purred into my ear

At this point my panties were completely soaked, and he noticed

"Already so wet huh? Hearing that her friends want to fuck her so bad makes the slut so needy" he whispered into my ear making my knees go weak.

He took off all of my clothing and proceeded to take off his as well, his body is just so sexy I can't stop looking at it.

"I don't think I can wait for any foreplay. Let's cut to the chase yeah bitch?" Lando said as he kissed me.

All I could do was nod feverishly, not being able to form any words.

He quickly aligned his cock with my pussy and bottomed out in one harsh thrust causing me to let out one of the largest moans I've ever let out in my life.

He keeps thrusting hard and fast into as curses and moans keep leaving my mouth.

"Such a dirty little bitch, showing everyone how much I please you. Beg to cum little whore." Lando whispered.

I just couldn't resist his touch

"Oh Lando please give me your big, fat cock, please please let me cum!" I begged with the most innocent look on my face.

"Such a good whore. Cum, cum with me" Said Lando satisfied with my begging as he continued to thrust into me hard and fast as we both reached our highs.

He groaned lowly and I nearly screamed as we both came together.

I heard shuffling outside

"That ought to tell them who can please you and who can't eh?" Lando said in a husky voice

"You're mine, love, only mine."

#f1 #f1 smut #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #motogp

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Text

D for an A.

Professor Nanami who walked into class on the first day not expecting to see you, you had met previously at a party hosted by one of his college friends. But there you are, sitting in his lecture hall with a pen in your pretty mouth. Nanami remembered you vividly, your aura and beauty brought men from all ends of the house to right in front of you. He can remember the drunk kids you shared on a dare. Nanami can see you conversing with another classmate of yours, your head flogging back with a laugh on your lips.

Professor Nanami hated how you made him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. He feels an unbridled desire for you, it shakes him to his very core. He knows he shouldn’t like you like that. It’s wrong, its perverse, you’re so innocent and naive to the ways of an older man. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you, which is becoming an increasingly difficult way to suppress his emotions. Nanami fucks his fist with your name on his tongue and your face flicking through his mind in a post-orgasmic state. It makes it much harder to see you the next day for class.

He was nervous, Professor Nanami asked you to stay back after a mock exam. He noticed you haven’t been yourself for a couple days, your usually high exam results have taken a hit. You’re one of his more intelligent students, so seeing you do so bad? It infuriated him. He knows you can do better so that was probably why he asked you to stay back. “I’m disappointed in you and your attitude to my class, do you feel like you don’t have to try so hard because you get good results anyways in the real thing?” Your eyes start to well up and Nanami realises you might actually cry in front of him, “I just want to know why, that’s all, so I can best support you.”

Professor Nanami was shocked when you told him the that the reason why you weren’t doing so well was because of you break up with your boyfriend. You broke it off mutually due to compatibility reasons but it didn’t hurt any less. Nanami was only wishing that he could make you feel better, perhaps go down on you or fuck you till you forget his name and who he was.

It was awkward for Professor Nanami and you after your random breakdown in his office, he was strangely an excellent listener. The kiss you shared at the party was initiated by the crowd chanting and the haziness from the hella drinking you did for your friend's birthday. You assumed he'd want to bring it up but all he gave you were lustful stares when he thought you weren't watching, but you would have to be blind to not notice his darkening gaze when you spoke or looked at him.

You confer with your friend about Professor Nanami and she aptly suggests you need a rebound and he seems single and ready to fuck. Thus began operation D for an A. Nanami noticed a lack of effort on your part in his class work, he asked around and it seemed like this was an issue in his class and his class alone. What was different about him? He told you to stay back to discuss your recent performance in class.

Professor Nanami looked good enough to eat, your plan was simple, to fuck him and rebound from your ex. Hopefully, he's down as well. He asked you to stay back and you hope he's finally gotten the hints you have been giving him all week, including the dropped items you bent down to get and sucking all manners of items like pens and lollipops. He locked the door, "Darlin' we need to talk about your grades." You look up at him and decide to be a brat, "well, have I been a bad girl? Maybe you need to punish me?"

Professor Nanami was not expecting this at all. His eyebrows raised to his hairline, you wanted him? Why? You were under a decade his junior. He stepped forward and put your chin in between his index finger and thumb. "Oh really?" He teased, he would think about the practicalities of this relationship later, right now you're too irresistible for him to resist. You lean in to kiss him and it is nothing you have ever felt before, the sheer practice and experience made you feel out of your depth.

His cock twitched at the thought of you cucking on his dick like you teased him with that god-forsaken lollipop. Lord knows how you pictured yourself on your knees sucking Professor Nanami's cock in his office. The thrill of getting caught somehow made you even wetter if that was possible. You don't know what prompted you to be so promiscuous, but this worked for him. You closed the gap between you and started to unbuckle his trousers, looking up through your eyelashes for permission.

Professor Nanami nodded and you pulled his black boxers down alongside his trousers. His cock was hardening under your touch, it was like nothing you have ever seen before, definitely, the largest you have ever sucked. You wonder if it's even going to fit in your mouth. His grunts and groans sound melodic to you as you kitten-lick him to get used to his size. You breathe through your nose, a tip learnt from your friends but never got to use due to your ex's uselessness in bed. Taking a breath and sucking, deep-throating him. Your cheeks hollowing and tears streaking your face almost made him cum right there and then.

Professor Nanami could've taken you right there on his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you and fuck you senselessly so you forget that ex-boyfriend of yours. He could feel himself drawing to a close, right on the edge, "Doll, I'm going to cum," he pauses, "good girls swallow, can you do that for me? hm?" He throws his head back with a whine caught in his throat, you swallowed. You actually swallowed his seed because he asked, the image of white cum leaking out of your mouth and streaked makeup could've made him fuck you right there.

You ask Professor Nanami for a second round at his place. "Obviously, I still need to fuck you so well you forget his name."

Masterlist

#kentosbabes #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento drabble #kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #fem reader #x reader #one shot #teacher x reader #teacher x student #hes so fine and for what #i need him so bad

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K+

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat

A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman.

And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.

The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.

The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet.

You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.

While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.

As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.

And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.”

Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.

“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.

“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”

You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.

“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.

“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.

“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.

“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.

“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.

The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting.

The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.

You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.

When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.

“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.

“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.

“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”

“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.

“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.

“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.

“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.

“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something.

“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”

“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…

He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying.

During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.

The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship.

Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.

There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything.

That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.

Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.

Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir.

“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.

“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.

“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.

“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.

After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.

Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up.

“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.

“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.

“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.

He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.

Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.

“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”

Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.

The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.

It was completely by accident, but no less true.

Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.

“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”

Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”

You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.

“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.

“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.

The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.

Clark wanted to wait-

No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool.

Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking.

At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.

He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments.

How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours.

“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.

“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”

“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”

“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”

“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.

As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.

Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.

“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.

You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs.

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.

“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.

“Unicorn is my safe word.”

“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.

“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.”

You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.

“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”

You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits.

As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.

“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.

“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.

You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.

With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.

Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly.

When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.

“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”

That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth.

“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips.

When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.

“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.”

The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.

When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you.

Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.

You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.

“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?”

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.

“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.

Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.

Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”

The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.

Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you.

A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.

Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.

This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him.

He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.

A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz 😁 Also if you want to be removed from tags, lemme know!

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sonamytrash · 1 month

Text

Precious cargo

An: Just Dadvi fluff that has been rotting my brain. I actually imagine Levi and readers' first baby being a little boy, but a baby girl worked better for this particular drabble. I promise to revisit some of my other headcanons following readers' pregnancy.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Levi strides through the Scouting Legion headquarters, his sharp gaze scanning the familiar surroundings as he cradles your newborn daughter securely against his chest. The ever-present crease in his brow softens ever so slightly as he looks down at the sleeping infant, a rare tenderness glimmering in his steel-grey eyes.

"Try not to make too much of a ruckus, brat." He murmurs to the newborn, his deep voice barely above a whisper as not to disturb your child's slumber. "The rest of these idiots don't know how to behave themselves."

Levi's grip tightens protectively as he approaches the mess hall, his gaze sweeping the room. Upon spotting Hange waving enthusiastically in your direction, he lets out an exasperated sigh, bracing himself for the inevitable chaos that's about to ensue.

Carefully, Levi shifts the baby's weight, angling his body to shield your child from the impending chaos. "Hange's about to descend like a pack of rabid wolves. I hope you're ready for the onslaught." He mutters, his fingers tightening protectively around your waist.

Just as the words leave his lips, Hange's boisterous voice fills the air, drawing the attention of the entire hall. "Levi! Y,N! There you are!" they exclaim, barreling towards the three of you with unrestrained enthusiasm. "Let me see the little one!"

Levi's brow furrows as Hange approaches, their boisterous energy directly at odds with his own protective instincts. "Tch, calm down four-eyes. You're going to wake her up." He grumbles, angling his body to shield the sleeping infant from Hange's grabby hands.

Despite his gruff demeanour, there's an underlying fondness in Levi's tone as he gazes down at your daughter. "Besides, I don't want you to contaminate her with your filthy hands." He scoffs, though the slight quirk of his lips betrays his amusement.

Hange's infectious enthusiasm draws a reluctant smile from Levi as they turn their attention to you. "How are you feeling, y/n?" they ask, their eyes shining with genuine concern. "The little one treating you well?"

You nod, "I'm okay. So far, everything seems to be going smoothly." You reply, Levi's grip on the sleeping infant tightens ever so slightly, his steely gaze softening as it flickers between you and your daughter. "Tch, of course she is." he interjects, a hint of pride colouring his gruff tone. "This brat's got a strong constitution, just like her mother." He says, smiling at you affectionately.

Reaching out, Levi gently brushes a finger against the baby's downy cheek, a rare tenderness shining in his steel-grey eyes. "Causing trouble already, aren't you?" he murmurs.

The rare, affectionate smile continues to tug at the corners of Levi's lips as he watches your daughter stir, her tiny features scrunching up in a delicate yawn. "She's perfect. She gets that from y/n, too." He breathes, his voice thick with an emotion that few have ever witnessed from the stoic captain. A feint blush paints your cheeks at his affectionate display as you place your hand on his forearm.

Krista makes her way over, gushing excitedly over the baby. "Oh, she's just perfect!" She squeels.

Levi looks to you for guidance. You can tell what he's thinking, and without any words needed, you nod reassuringly. He looks back at Krista, Levi's expression shifts, his usual cool detachment replaced by a rare warmth. "Tsk. Do you want to hold her?" he asks, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of invitation.

Levi's brow furrows slightly as he carefully transfers the sleeping infant into Krista's waiting arms, his fingers brushing against the delicate girl's skin with the utmost care.

"Support her head," he murmurs, his voice low and gruff. "And for god's sake, don't drop her."

Sasha soon bounded over, her eyes twinkling with excitement, the other members of the 104th close behind her.

"She really does look just like you, Captain!" She reached out and touched the tiny hand that was now resting on Kristas shoulder, admiring the infant's dark hair. The others in the room chimed in, oohing and aahing over the tiny fingers and toes, cooing and gushing over the newest addition to the scouting family.

"Tch, the brat's got my looks, alright." He murmurs, a hint of pride in his gruff tone. "Though hopefully she's inherited more of her mother's pleasant disposition."

Levi hovers protectively, his steely gaze flickering between the baby, the others and Krista, ready to snatch the child back at the slightest sign of trouble. A faint, barely perceptible smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he watches the petite girl and her friends coo over his daughter, his chest swelling with a fierce, paternal pride.

"Careful..." he rumbles, his brow furrowing in a rare display of vulnerability. "She's precious cargo."

#dadvi #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #dadvi ackerman #dad levi

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teyums · 1 year

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His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter

wc: 4.3k

a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗

contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict

“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change

Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.

“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.

“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.

Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.

He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.

He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”

He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”

No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.

Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?

Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”

The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.

He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.

His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.

“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.

“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent. “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.

Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.

This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.

“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.

He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?

“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.

Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.

By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.

Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.

His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.

He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.

He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.

His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?

“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”

Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.

Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.

He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.

“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.

“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”

~~~

Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.

You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.

“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.

You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.�� Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.

She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.

Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.

She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.

“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.

A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.

Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.

You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.

Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.

You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.

Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.

How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.

“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.

By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.

a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet

This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔

Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞

tag list ⬇️

@hornknee-and-bi-myself @obsessedwithlife @llearlert @awkward-halfhug @extreamlycutecuban @answer-the-sirens @arminsgfloll @jackiehollanderr @tejas-kris @neteyamoa @instabull @halibanana @bookishaficionado @uwu-i-purple-you @neteyamsgirll @kre3ce @philiasoul @eringaitskill @bwormie @fanboyluvr @ssc7514 @meivap @afro-hispwriter @hellok1ttycake @melsunshine @casuallydogobsessed @katsukiswrld @mcdonalds-playground @itscheybaby @neenieweenie @babyvinnie @msjae @laylasbunbunny @epicy0n @dreamersbelieveinus @elegantzippercashshoe

#avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar way of water #neteyam x you #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam avatar

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yo-yo-yeonkai · 8 months

Text

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR - CHOI YEONJUN - NSFW

Yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Warning list: Dom!Yeonjun x Brat!AFAB, reader, insecure reader for a second, shower sex, mild size mention, fingering (f!receiving), marking, scratching, chocking, degradation; (slut), pet names; (love), have to stay quiet, private in public- does that make sense?

Word count: 3,500

Summary: Lucky you got to be a back up dancer for your best friends k pop group, and your crush also happens to be in the group. Teasing him couldn’t end badly could it?

This is my drabble for @majestyjun ‘s Yeonjun birthday event! I hope you all like it and give all the artists involved support <3

Rushed hands wrapped around your wrist, yanking you harshly into the boys showering room. But their rough dragging didn't stop there, you were then pushed into a showering cubicle, the sound of the lock turning soon after.

Was this... the consequences of your own actions?

You knew you shouldn't tease Yeonjun, but you just couldn't help it. It was far too much fun to pass up, even with the rest of your dance team and txt in the room...

The one who had pulled you out of the corridor, slowly spun his head to meet your gaze. Red hot rage shot through his usually soft brown eyes, straight into your head. His voice wasn't much different to the emotion that showed in his stare. "Do you think that's funny", he mutters, voice low and grumbly, almost like he's holding back the words that he wants to say.

Like frightened prey, when cornered by its predator, you take a step further away from him. But just like the predator, he takes a step closer to you, not letting the chance of intimidation slip through his grasp.

"Answer me!" he demands, like a king that's used to having every last order he makes fulfilled with a click of his long fingers.

Any chance at escape is quickly limited by the slam of his hand conjoining with the wall next to your head. Dominance seeped from ever action he made, whether it be big or small. Embarrassingly, a small yelp travelled out of your mouth at the action, your mind running at 100mph just to figure out how you got yourself in this position.

He seemed to desire the honest truth, so that is exactly what you must give him. The king's orders may never be disobeyed after all. Finally, some words slipped from your lips, in a quiet mumble "Yes, I find it funny".

Body shaking slightly with a chuckle, his handsome face drew closer to yours. Your bodies pressed against each other in a warm heat, a feeling you never knew you needed until now. Every curve of your bodies slipped against each other like an irregular, but beautiful puzzle. Almost as if the cuts in the pieces weren't straight but fit together none the less.

Flicking your wandering eyes back to his, you noticed that the rage that burned within them was replaced by something else. Deep, dark lust pooled in his eyes like a desperate starved monster.

Controlling meanings slipped through his words as he spoke, "Well, it's not! You do not get to tease me like that, in front of everyone. Is that understood?”

A teasing, slow hand slid its way onto your waist, grabbing onto you, like a claim to victory. The motion made you feel weak already, you were never great with soft physical touch. The slow drag of his fingertips against your soft skin made goosebumps rake along your skin, a tell-tale sign that you were sensitive to that sort of attention.

Your voice kept to its same nervous mumble as you responded "Understood". The word was simple, but that's all he wished to hear from you, the clear acceptance to his dominating demands.

His chest shook once again, a raw chuckle slipping through his sweet, plump lips. Faces growing closer together, his breath fanned over your face, the distance between your lips slowly diminishing.

Sudden waves of realisation at the current situation washed through you, like cold water shocking your system. "Ummm Yeonjun.." you whispered, the sound coming out like a soft whisper of wind, despite it being the start of a storm.

Swarming eyes flicked away from the stare they had on your lips, up to your eyes. His head shook lightly, gaining control of his emotions for an honest second. “This is your chance (Y/N). Tell me yes or no now. Cause you know I am going to fuck you if you don't tell me no." he ordered, fingers running against your chin and gripping it gently.

His desires had been perfectly set out for you in a display window, now you just had to make a choice. But just as his desires were obvious, yours ran like a clear river through your mind, paving a path for the dirty thoughts to flow.

In a swift attempt to gain dominance over the situation, you leant forward and pushed him up against the opposite wall to the one you had just been trapped against. Feet stood in tiptoes, desperately reaching up to kiss him.

Your lips joined together in a heated, impatient kiss. Perfection was laced through every move of his soft lips against yours, a calculated pursuit of pleasure. Slick wetness prodded its way into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. The fight for control was soon over and every move he made would determine what you would do next. He had full control over you, like a puppet. Would you let him use you? Maybe after a small fight...

Hands that were once holding tightly onto your waist, pushed you off him, the distance becoming evidently clear in the rush of cold against your skin. Sharp eyes looked down at you, then drifted to the shower at your side. A sly smirk dawned upon his lips, like he had just had the best idea of his lifetime. You weren't exactly an innocent girl; you could tell what he was thinking.

The quick, hard order met your ears "Strip", he didn't say it like a question, or an offer. It was a command he spoke, a must, and God only knows what happens to those that dare disobey his highnesses orders.

Fear of retribution didn't stop your mind from spinning into a frantic panic at the thought of removing your clothes. The approaching insecurity you held deep within you begun to creep out like a deadly virus, poisoning you and spoiling your thoughts.

The deep chuckle of his voice sounded to your ears, pausing your worry for a split second as he spoke “Don't get shy now Love. You weren't shy earlier. See, l'lI show you how to do it".

Fingers gripped onto the bottom of his shirt, skilfully pulling it over his head. Every curve, dip and lift of his defined chest and arms were now on display for your hungry eyes to feast upon. Unholy desire, to run your fingers along him, spun your head away from your insecurities and towards the goal at hand.

Your own fingers pulled at your top, throwing it to the corner of the cubicle, your shorts following suit. Patience was strung like a thin, flimsy wire, and the second he took off his shirt the wire snapped, freeing you of any control you once had over yourself. Your underwear remained on your body, not wanting to show him anymore, unless he would equal out the playing field.

Putting on a show his hands ran down his chest, over every part of him you wanted to touch, right to the very edge of his shorts. A stray finger slipped under the band and pulled it down far too slowly for your thirsty mind. The show was coming to a quick close as he noticed your impatience and pulled them down his legs, disregarding them where your own clothes had begun to pile.

You practically threw yourself at him as soon as he was leant against the wall again. Lips joined together in a hungry kiss, hands roaming each other's bodies and the remainder of your clothes were quickly shimmied and thrown off yourselves.

Desperation was clouding you both like a thick aura, and you knew you didn't have enough time to take this slow, you needed to get on with this soon or the rest of the dance team would figure out where you'd gone.

A stray finger ran down your slit causing you to shiver at the surprising feeling. When did his hand get down there? You have no clue. Do you mind? Not one bit.

"God you are so fucking wet" he groans, desire to have his cock shrouded in the feeling of your wetness evident in the whine of his tone. Even guys like Yeonjun start whining when it comes down to it. How well can he keep his composure? You'll find out.

The finger dipped into your entrance, giving you all the attention you needed. The finger was slow, teasing for a bit, but it quickly became faster, harder. Before long, there was another finger in you, fucking your insides and getting you ready for Yeonjun's cock.

He knew what he was doing, every curl and plunge of his fingers told you that much. Whether he had done this before was a mystery, but it's not like you were innocent either. Is it bad that you hoped he hadn't done it before, that's selfish isn't it?

He moved his spare hand up to one of your tits and he rolled and played with your nipple until he got a reaction out of you that he liked, one that told him he was touching you right. With the lustful mix of his fingers thrusting into you and your nipple being played with you were moaning like your life depended on it. You had always been told you were a loud girl, and right here wasn't really the place for it.

The very moment he felt your walls clench around his fingers he pulled away from you. Sticking his wet fingers in your mouth he ordered "Now be quiet whilst you take me hmmmm~ and if anyone walks in... make sure you don't say a fucking word".

As he speaks you twirl your tongue around every inch of his fingers, lightly sucking and tasting yourself on him. "God, don't do that. You'll make me want to stick my dick in your mouth" he choked out, quickly removing his digits from your mouth, a line of saliva connecting you for a mere second before it broke.

"And what's so wrong with that Jjunie~" you whisper, bringing your body against his and squishing your chest against him. His composure was breaking with your games, and you wanted it to shatter completely. You find such joy in trying to bring a man to his knees.

Fingers wrapped around your neck and pushed you away from him and under the shower "Shut up... or I'll make you" he muttered; words meant more as a warning than a challenge. But... you liked being used like a slut, that's why you acted like a brat. Clearly Yeonjun had you figured out more than other guys do.

You would have countered back had you not found the hand around your neck to be the most attractive thing he could have done to you. Your knees grew weak, and you practically wanted to throw myself at him, but you'd restrain yourself.

His other hand reached behind you and turned on the shower, warm water running over your body, making you glisten in such a filthy way. You wondered if he was thinking he could wash and fuck the brat out of you... if he was, he was severely mistaken.

The grip on your neck disappeared, but that doesn't mean that his control was gone. Ghosting touch remained on your neck reminding you of the type of man he is, the things he would do if you don't comply to him, and oh how tempting it was.

As the thoughts of disobedience rung through your head, they were just as quickly wiped away. Yeonjun turned you away from him, bent you over and stroked a rough hand up your ass.

Your hands swiftly found the wall, and used it to keep you stable, opening your legs so he would have full access to you. One rough smack to your ass echoed through the room, your yelp following soon after. “That is for teasing me" he told, voice hardly recognisable as his own anymore. Another spank to your ass made you let out a loud moan this time. “That's for acting like a pretty little slut.... And this one, is because I wanted too" he spoke, one final slap to your ass making a moan slip from your mouth.

Just as you were gaining back your composure and state of mind, you felt his cock press against your hole. Your eyes slipped closed as you concentrated on the small bit of stimulation you were desperate for. His cock slowly traveled up and down your slit a few times before he actually bottomed out inside of you. A moan ripped from your throat at the feeling of being aggressively stretched by his big cock, whilst a thick groan came from his own mouth.

For you the initial entrance was always the most pleasurable feeling, other than the orgasm of course, and because Yeonjun fingered you before fucking you were that bit more sensitive.

Every slip of his dick, in and out of your hole, had you whining desperately. His fingers reached forward and wrapped around your mouth, quickly realising you wouldn't be able to hold back your sounds. "As much as I do want to hear that slutty voice of yours, I think it's best you be quiet" he whispered, bringing his hips back before slamming into you.

It wasn't long before he was rocking into you at a brutal, pleasurable pace, your body slamming forward at the movement. Your hands slipped every now and then, the wet tiles not giving you as much grip as Yeonjun had on your hip. The water had your hair in a slick wave, travelling down your back and it would flick over your shoulder every other thrust, reminding you simply how hard Yeonjun was fucking you.

Just as you felt the knot in your stomach start to burst, his dick slipped out of you, the feeling fading slowly. He made quick work of flipping you around so you could face him as you whine "Fuck, no, Jjunie, I was going to cum!" Your voice sounded as an annoyed whisper, angry at his behaviour, but aware that people may hear you if you were too loud.

So far you had been lucky, nobody had come into the showering rooms. But that was to be expected, it's the middle of the day and people don't go to showering rooms mid schedule, let alone the ones at the company. Everyone is simply too busy with other things and have no reason to not use the showers at their dorms, which gave you the perfect spot to fuck.

His chest shook with that familiar chuckle as he picked you up, your legs wrapping around him naturally. The arms holding you up were as strong as you had always imagined after seeing him dance in his vests during dance practice. Now that they were around you in such a filthy act you felt your stomach swirl.

His dick slid back into your hole like it was nothing, your arousal paving the perfect path. Your back made contact with the wet tiled wall as he started fucking you again. "That's exactly why I turned you around, so I can see that beautiful look on you face when you cum on my cock". The very sound of his words had made you weak, a loud moan coming out of your mouth, despite you biting down on your lip to stop the sounds from escaping you.

He thrusted in and out of you, kissing at your neck roughly, probably leaving marks you'll hate him for later. With each kiss he left you felt a stinging sensation linger where his lips once had, that was enough to tell you he was marking you, that you were sooooo getting told off later, but you really couldn't care less.

Your hands roughly grabbed onto his back, your nails scrapping along it just as harshly as he was kissing your skin. You were just trying to grasp onto something, but the water had your pretty acrylics sliding across his skin. A low groan sounded from his throat "Fuck, keep doing that". You don't know what he loved so much about it, but you couldn't stop doing it, so you weren't one to complain.

As much as you felt the knot in your stomach start to burst, you tried to hold it off, not wanting to cum without him.

His movements started becoming erratic and you knew he was going to cum soon, and he wasn't the only one. You locked your lips to his, knowing you would moan loudly when you cum. One thrust, two thrusts, three and you had cum on his dick, but the thrusts didn't stop for him, he needed a few more before he had cum. You moaned into the kiss, his groans joining with yours.

When he pulled you off his cock you whined at the lack of warmth he provided. You detached your mouth from his, heavily panting with your head leant on his shoulder. Slowly, he helped you back into a standing position and under the water, so he could help clean you.

As he washed your hair you stared up at him, your hands placed on his abs. He looked so pretty flushed slightly red, and you knew that such a sight had made you blush.

You ran your hands all over his chest, feeling your fingers run up and down the definition. He chuckled, looking down at you as his hands massaged the shampoo on your scalp "It's nice to know you like my body~", he teased in a low mumble.

You huffed and took your hands from him "No need to be all cocky about it" you muttered, whining like a child that just got told off.

Staring up at him, a sudden thought crossed your mind “Yeonjun...?" You whispered, he nodded his head and you continued “how am I going to get out of here without being caught?".

He shrugged his shoulder and started washing his hair, not seeming all that bothered about the situation you were now in. "Yeonjun, help me think of something" you whispered to him, he shook his head with a laugh "no, cause it's not my problem. This is revenge for teasing me during dance practice, do you know how complicated it was to try and hide how hard I was. I hope this lesson will teach you something~ You will get caught. I won't, I did nothing wrong, all i did was shower. You are the one breaking the rules!"

You shook your head at him and pushed him out from under the water quickly washing yourself then getting your clothes back on. Seeing as they weren't wet you could continue to wear them.

Then you literally unlocked the door, left it wide open and ran out of the boy's bathroom. You were quick, not giving anyone the chance to see you, not that anyone was at this side of the company right now.

You made it back to the girls showering rooms and quickly dried your hair, re applied any other daily product and made it back to the dance studio before anyone could notice where you had gone.

You slid up next to Taehyun, your best friend, and he nodded at you, not really noticing you had gone anywhere. Five minutes later Yeonjun walked in with a sweet look on his face, his normally tucked hair behind his ears, not a single thing out of place. You hadn't even looked in the mirror, for all you knew you could look like shit.

You tried to mind your own business and stay huddled up in the corner, leaning on Taehyun. But Kai didn't seem like a fan of the idea. "Hey Hey (Y/N)! You are back! Come join us!?" He shouted, practically pulling you up to join him. You looked over to the group he was on about and as much as you loved them, you just didn't feel like it.

"Sorry Kai, not right now hmm~ l'm trying to get rest before we begin practice again. Go play with one of the other dancers~" you say, crumpling back down to Taehyun's side as Kai lets you go. "Hmmm, fine, but later though" he tells, quickly running back to them.

"Did you just go for a shower?" Taehyun asks? You slowly turn to face him and nod, knowing he had already figured you out. "Don't use the shampoo at the company again. This one doesn't smell right...

It's not your smell... does that make sense?". You couldn't help but giggle at him, you knew exactly what he meant, and it was adorable that he knew what smell suited you. "Noted, don't use this shampoo again" you joke, running your fingers through your hair, hoping he wouldn't notice how odd it was to take a shower halfway through dance practice, only to get sweaty again.

You glance up and see Yeonjun staring at you from the other side of the room. It wasn’t a friendly gaze it was teasing…. Oh lord, is it time for lesson two? What have you done?

#kpop #kpop smut #txt #txt x reader #txt smut #txt drabbles #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #Yo-Yo writes 🌷#Yo-Yo’s hard hours 🥀#Yeonjun list 🦊

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heartpiratedrabbles · 3 months

Text

Misunderstandings Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 ~

NSFW

Crocodile X Fem Reader

“This isn’t our room,” You mutter as you sit on the bed of a suite Crocodile had led you too. It was much less charming than the penthouse you have lived in for the past year or so.

Crocodile shrugs off his fur coat while blowing smoke in your direction, “That’s because they’re probably raiding our place right now.” His words were tired at the thought of having the clean up a mess but your heart pounded when you heard him use the word our. “Now Princess. Do you want to explain to me why you caused a scene today?” His voice changed to that of amusement and annoyance.

You flop onto the bed, turning your face to bury it into the comforter, “You wanna explain who that hussy is?” You knew back-talking him wasn’t the smartest idea but your frustration and anger were still alive and well even if your body had become tired. “I thought you were replacing me.” The pout came out with a small whimper as you kick off your shoes before curling your legs onto the bed.

You felt the bed dip on either side of you, and see his good arm support himself next to your head. “You think I’d want someone who doesn’t even know how to dress herself properly?” The accusatory tone came out with a huff of disbelief and you can’t help but smile a bit as you turn to face him. His hook was loosening his tie as he looks down at you, “Who do you think I am? I’d never replace a precious jewel,” He mutters placing a kiss on your temple.

Still pouting you decide to push him a little more, “You didn’t call this entire time.” He looks down at you and you feel some tears brim your eyes that you try to blink away. He switches arms, letting his hand brush your cheek and a thumb wipe a tear away as he kisses your other temple.

“I was on a mission Princess… Any contact with you could’ve put you in danger.” The sweet words run through your ears and you had to admit the more he said the happier you felt, you nuzzle your face into his hand. And despite your high emotions you couldn’t help but to lick his hand daring him to go further. Seeing you calm down, and feeling the mischievous invitation, he leans in closer to your ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you acted on the floor you Brat.” Your ears tingle at his sharp tone as you bare your neck to him out of habit, “Don’t pretend to be a good girl now.” He nips at your neck, trailing down until he’s at your dress line.

Crocodile sits up and you smirk up at him, “I plead my innocence. I was a single lady when I did such things.”

His brow furrows at you, “Oh? Then perhaps I should train you rather than punish you.” His words make your heart skip a beat. You know the difference well enough when it comes to Crocodile, it’s the difference between pain and release or hours of begging and pleading.

He stands up, shrugging off his vest, and you watch as he delicately puts it to the side, only sparing you a small glance, “W-wait. I’m sorry.” Crocodile doesn’t say anything as he sits down in a chair across the room, “Sir, I didn’t mean it,” You stand up and saunter over to Crocodile, trying to choose the lesser of the two punishments.

He hums, taking a long drag of his cigar while staring at you, “So you know what you did was wrong?” You kneel down between his legs, nodding your head before resting it on his knee, looking up with pleading eyes. He runs his hand through your hair before gripping it, pulling you up. You quickly place your hands on his knees to support yourself as the dull ache of your scalp brings your attention fully to crocodile. “Take off your dress and bend over my knee Princess.” His words blowing smoke into your face before he releases your hair.

You barely catch yourself before standing back up, your back turned to Crocodile as you slide each strap off your shoulders. You glance behind you, slowly turning to face him before peeling the dress off, your breasts bouncing slightly as they’re released from the tight fabric. You bend down, further pushing the dress off before stepping out of it entirely, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You take a step towards him before you stop, “Do you want me naked sir?” You timidly ask, slowly moving your hands to the edge of your panties.

Crocodile seems to consider your question for a second before patting his leg. You nod your head before bending over his knees, adjusting your boobs underneath you before bracing your hands on his thigh. You feel the tip of his hook caress your back before dipping below you neck, sweeping all your hair to one side. His hand rubbing gentle circles on your ass. “Now Princess, what are you sorry for?” His voice is accompanied by a harsh grasp,

“I’m sorry for causing a scene in front of your guests,” Your hands grip his thigh, waiting for an impact, but instead you feel a hook under your chin, tilting your head up to make eye contact.

“What else?” He hooks a finger under your waistband, slowly pulling it up. You gasp at the feeling, lifting your ass to relieve the pressure.

“S-saying I was single,” He hums, releasing your panties with a snap. You let out a small squeal before feeling a hard slap against your ass, “O-One. Thank you Sir.”

“Good girl, I see you haven’t forgotten your manners” He gently kneads your ass to comfort the rough sting, and just as the pain went away another loud slap came. You yelp out, counting as you do. Another comes swiftly after, harder than the last two that makes tears comes to your eyes. You quickly let out the number three along with a thank you.

Another 4 spanks have you crying outright. But it’s the 8th slap that causes you to lose your grip, falling forward, hair a mess as you let out a sob. “Have you learned your lesson, Princess?” Crocodile muses above you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine in a comforting motion.

The throbbing pain only adding to your pleasure as you nod your head begging him to forgive you. He gently places his hand on the red skin, kneading circles to help with blood flow, as he watches your body shake. “Lay on the bed,” His sultry deep voice had you standing up on unsteady legs before doing as your told.

You look up from your position and watch as Crocodile slowly undresses, folding his clothes and placing them on the chair as he goes. He glances over at you, “Prepare yourself Princess.” You reach down to take your panties off, noticing how wet you had become in the movement as you spread your legs and reach down.

Sliding a finger around your own clit before sliding it over your entrance. You bite your lip to hold back any needy noise you could make as you slide two fingers in right away, raising your hips slightly to try and reach deeper inside yourself. Your other hand fondling and gripping your breast. Curling your fingers to try and hit the perfect spot, letting out a small whine at how empty you still feel.

Your let your eyes wander over your lovers’ body, noticing his standing erection as he watches you. You meet his gaze and feel yourself throb around your fingers at the darkened eyes turned towards you. “C-crocodile Please. I want something bigger,” his eyes flashes over your body with a smirk playing on his lips before he kneels on the bed.

“Not even asking properly Princess? That’s not how I taught you,” He tugs at your wrist between your thighs, your fingers leaving the warm space with a string of slick still connected to the entrance. He brings your coated fingers up to his lips, licking you clean as you moan at the sight. It’s only when he’s fully tasted you that he glances up at your eyes, “Well? If you ask politely, I may reward you.”

You brush you hand against his shoulder, your fingers tips ghosting over his chest, “Please Sir, I want to be filled by you ‘till I can’t think anymore.” He grunts in approval, positioning him self at your throbbing entrance, you try to inch closer to the pressure you love.

“Impatient, I see,” Gripping your thigh as he pushes into you at a torturously slow rate. You moan at the feeling of being filled but slowly your breath hitches, “Did you forget how big I was Princess?” Crocodiles teasing laugh rings through your ears as you stretch wider, “Didn’t you touch yourself while I was away?”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder, pulling his chest closer to you as you take his length. “It never feels good without you,” You whimper, burying you face into the crook of his neck. You whimper quickly changes to a full-blown cry as Crocodile thrusts his hips to be flush against you. You wrap your arms around his neck as your body shakes into his body.

His hooked hand snakes behind your back, pulling you closer to him as his fingers brush through your hair, sitting up while shushing you with sweet words of encouragement and praise for taking all of him. It isn’t until Crocodile makes sure your ready that he starts to rock in and out of you.

You eventually gain the courage to meet his thrusts, bouncing on your knees slowly while Crocodile places gentle kisses along your neck, praising every moan that escapes your lips. The stretch of your pussy taking all of Crocodile being an addicting burning pain that you try to burn into your mind as you roll your hips to feel him as different angles.

It's when you started to feel the pressure building that you heard the Den-den Mushi ring. You whimper slightly, knowing Crocodile won’t let up his pace as he reaches over to answer the call. You can hear talk of a hostage situation gone wrong and business partners willing to agree to anything, but frustration grows in you as Crocodile stops stroking your back with his hook, instead leaning onto the bed while continuing the call, still maintaining his pace in you without a though.

Shame leaving your clouded mind, you start to moan loudly and without restraint, picking up your own movements as you feel his chests and stomach, his dry scarred skin sending tingles through your fingertips. Crocodile flashes you a warning glare that you decide to ignore when you lean down and lick at his adams apple, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin of his throat.

You hear the click of the den-den mushi before your head is ripped away from him neck, the sting of the hair pull only making your mind go crazy, “Did you forget your manners here too? That was an important call Princess.” His gruff tone was music to your ears before he shoved his tone down your throat, his hooked arm keeping you in place as he pounds into you at an insane pace.

The pressure building and the lack of air making you crazy, you feel yourself tighten around his dick before he rips you off his lap entirely, pushing you to the ground. You whimper at the lack of an orgasm as you reposition yourself between his legs, relaxing your jaw as much as possible before he shoves your head around his throbbing member.

“Only good girls get to cum darling,” Your tongue flattened as much as possible as you feel him hitting the back of your throat, spit overflowing your mouth with each movement. You hum as a weak apology around him while you grip his thighs to try and stay steady.

There is no warning while he slams your head down, not letting you come up as his warm cum hits your throat. You try to relax as much as possible before he pulls out, pumping a couple more spurts onto your extended tongue before you close your mouth, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth before swallowing, savoring the salty flavor before showing him you’ve swallowed everything.

His hook under your chin as some spit from before if still dripping and tears staining your face while he looks pleased at the sight in front of him. “Is this what you wanted? It’s not much of a punishment if you wanted it princess.”

“I’ve missed you so much, I couldn’t help myself,” You whine out, hoping he won’t actually punish you.

“I guess I have neglected my pet recently…” He hums in agreeance as his thumb cleans your face slightly, “Why don’t we wait until you’ve fully calmed down before continuing?” His almost gentle voice brings you back, to your slightly dizzy tired state, “Miss. All-Sunday didn’t cut you off and you haven’t a single tolerance to allow you to drink that much.” His hushed tones now slightly scolding you as he pulls you onto the bed.

“Only cause I saw you next to that girl,” You pout slightly, “Get rid of me before finding someone else, it’s too painful to watch.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I could never replace you, Princess.” You let a small smile fall on your lips at hearing the words escape him, but still stay silent. His sighs next to you, “I can’t promise I won’t do something similar in the future. But I’ll at least let you know before hand alright?” You let out a dissatisfied hum while he rubs your back.

“Only if you let me choose the girl next time. This one was too haughty to be by your side,” He sighs at your demand but agrees.

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #Sir Crocodile #Crocodile X Reader #Part 3

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