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#i added flowers to his hair
turontot · 4 months
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1/3 of my trolls ms paint doodles
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2/3
3/3
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calnexin · 1 year
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these two drive me insane
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'The sun is shining on me'
A quick messy silver drawing 'based' on Ferry's 'The world is shining on me', which is suchhh a good song----
(alt(?) vers under read more)
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I messed with the hues, and these were ones I thought looked fun------! which is your favourite >_>?
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dreadsuitsamus · 1 year
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I have a request! Remember the scene in the movie where Paragus uses the shock collar on Broly? Well, can I request a short one shot where he uses the collar, & the reader comforts Broly when the two are alone? Maybe a timeskip to his battle with Goku, where he sees the reader & calms down upon remembering the kindness she showed him? Please??
author's note: i hope you've been enjoying these! i assume you're the same anon since my only requests have been broly lol i ended up feeling very lovey for broly as i wrote this, as you'll find out when you read! i'm not sorry for being a romantic sometimes :p i created a bit of a new species in this and may expand on it in the future! i didn't expand on it very much so i apologize! i also have changed the prompt just a tad, as far as the timing goes when Broly calms down. also i'm very tired but wanted to write this story so if things don't make sense i am very sorry
pairing: broly x fem!reader
warnings: parental abuse, shock torture (as it is in canon)
Solace | Broly x Reader |
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Broly sits by himself in an empty room, having managed to get away from his father and his new acquaintances. His father had shocked him again, but he couldn't understand why his father couldn't see what that awful man was trying to do. Broly had never voiced it to Paragus, he hardly ever even wanted to think of it in his own mind, but he hated how his father used that collar on him, and in his heart he harbored those deep feelings of hatred.
He looks up when the door to the room opens, the light flicking on. He immediately looks away from the person at the door, but even in his sadness from being electrocuted again, he takes note of the attractiveness of the stranger.
"This is new." You murmur and step in, setting your chestplate down. "Ah... You're the guy from the cafeteria, right?"
"My name is Broly." He murmurs softly. "Is... This your room?"
"Mhm." You slip off your boots. "You can hide out here though. After what the old guy did, I don't blame you for finding a quiet place to yourself."
Broly's lips quirk to the side. He's not sure what to make of you. You seem to... Be on his side and not agree with his father's actions. Cheelai had also seemed to feel that way. Perhaps... His father was the one in the wrong?
It felt like a sin to think of his father like that.
"Thank you very much." He says after a beat, remembering to mind his manners on his own, for once.
"Don't mention it." You're in your blue under-armor now as you sit at your small round table with him. "You're the only company I've ever had in here."
"How come?" As far as Broly is concerned, you're kind and beautiful, and he would visit you all the time if he were someone living on this ship.
You chuckle to yourself, tapping your nails absentmindedly on the mahogany table. "Because I hate everyone on this damn ship."
"Oh." Broly frowns.
"Not to trauma-dump, but I was sold about ten years ago by my own father and haven't been home since."
"Your father? He... Sold you?"
"Mhm. I didn't even know you could sell a thirty-year-old that doesn't live with you, but he did it anyway."
"I'm sorry he did that." Broly's brows come together in a deep frown.
You laugh a little, and even with his lack of social interaction, Broly knows it's not because you find anything humorous. "It was that or be pillaged by the pirates that invaded us. They were eventually killed by Frieza and that's how I ended up working under him. I only wish to go home."
"... My father told me about my species growing up. He says we're a proud race of warriors."
You nod your head. "What are you?"
"A Saiyan."
Your eyes widen. "Wow. I can't believe there's more of you besides Goku and Vegeta."
Broly looks down at the table. "My father and I were told about... that... when we were discovered..."
"Ah, man... I can't say much about the Saiyans since I was so young when Frieza blew up Planet Vegeta, but I'm sure you would've been a good fit. You look every bit a warrior."
"Really?" He looks into your eyes.
"Sure. Big, tall, with muscles that could break anyone in two... You don't got the scary, pillaging personality though." You wink. "So as far as I can tell... You're a pretty perfect guy."
Broly's cheeks heat up and he could never explain why, but his eyes dart to your chest for just a split second, and you can see just a bit of red on his tanned cheeks. You laugh softly and lean forward a little. "Now that I think about it, have you ever seen a woman until today?"
"I... N-No." Broly mumbles, looking away.
"Hmm. You're an interesting fella, Broly."
"Thank... You?" He's really not sure if that's a good or bad thing, so he figures that erring on the side of using his manners will be best.
"Tell me about you. What's that green pelt you're wearing?"
Broly quietly launches into the story of Ba, of how he was his only friend and how his father ruined it for him. In fact, every story he tells seems to end with Paragus somehow destroying happiness for Broly. At forty-one years of age, it doesn't sound to you like he's ever had one day to enjoy life. And with how horrible that planet he was stuck on was, you weren't surprised. He'd been attacked every day!
Your heart feels a pang of sadness at his story. Oh how you wish to bathe him in the love of your home planet...
You smile a little and stand up, heading to your small chest of drawers and pulling out a small pendant. "I doubt you're gonna be on the ship long, I may not even see you again, so... Here. To remember me." You bring it to him, setting the small thing onto his large palm.
Broly looks up at you for just a few seconds, taking in your smile and sparkling eyes and wondering how someone could be so charming, before looking at what you've gifted to him. It's a small, golden, diamond-shaped pendant on a golden chain, an engraving in the center of what looked like an elegant flower.
Broly rubs his thumb over it. "It's beautiful."
"Thank you. The flower is the one of my people. It can only be found on my planet. I'm sure if I could ever go back home that they'd be everywhere, just waiting to be picked and used for decoration, cooking, medicine..." You look out the window, Broly studying how wistful you look. He wonders what it's like to have a home worth missing, that wasn't uninhabitable and didn't attempt to kill him every day.
Broly holds the pendant back out to you, but you gently close his fist around it and push it to his chest. "Keep it. I'll always have home with me in my memories. And my body." You chuckle softly and pull your undersuit down enough to show him a tattoo at your collarbone of the same flower. "The zantedeschia stays with me always."
Broly reaches his hand out, and you allow him to touch your tattoo. He gently traces the elegant, black outline. "You're warm." He mumbles.
"So are you." You murmur, looking into Broly's curious eyes as he traces the zantedeschia tattoo. "So is Albomaculata."
"Is that your home?"
You nod, putting your hand on top of his. "We're a beautiful species. Home is so lovely, so nurturing, so gentle and romantic and different from anywhere else... We're not fighters." You mutter. "I suppose we're the opposite of Saiyans. We're lovers."
"Saiyans love too." Broly counters gently.
You smile and brush some hair out of his face. "Hmm... That's an interesting thought."
There's a sudden commotion outside, and you hear the voice of the old man from earlier, who you've assumed is Broly's father. You look back at Broly and swipe your finger down his nose playfully. "Guess you'd better go, huh?"
Broly scrunches his nose cutely, but does stand and gently remove his hand from your chest, instead moving it to the shock collar on him. Fear strikes in his eyes. "I.. I should."
"Goodbye, Broly. I hope we meet again."
He moves for the door, and when he turns around one last time, all he sees is your naked silhouette bathed in the light of the bathroom. He blinks slowly, committing the beauty to his memory before stepping out of the room and finding his father.
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Broly's been thrust into battle sometime after he parted ways with you, and he's lost himself in his rage. His father is dead now, and it's probably all his fault. Before him is Gogeta, the fusion of the only other full-blooded Saiyans left.
You watch from the ship, scared for your friend as he faces off against the new challenger. He's losing badly, and it's looking like they'll kill him. And god dammit he doesn't deserve to die like this.
You push the two lower-ranking soldiers away from the Dragon Balls, ignoring their protests as you make your wish to the giant green dragon.
"Save Broly and send us to Albomaculata!"
You close your eyes, and within a flash, you feel yourself surrounded by the warm air of home. You open your eyes and look around for Broly, praying you weren't too late. You then see the glowing form of your new friend, his body smaller now and close to his normal size.
"Broly?" You whisper.
Broly turns with a shout, in between the beast within and his normal, gentle self. You hold your hands up and he pauses, the glowing fluctuating. You take a shaky breath and carefully ease down the undersuit, revealing your tattoo to Broly once again. "Broly... The zantedeschia stays with me always. And it can be with you too... We're on my home planet."
Broly's wide eyes look around and he realizes he's surrounded by several zantedeschia of many colors, ones he's never even seen before in his life. The planet is vibrant and the air around him is so clean and lovely it's intoxicating. He finally relaxes into his base form, falling onto the field of flowers, breathing heavily and still looking around.
"How...?"
You kneel between his legs and hug him tightly. "I made a wish. Those Dragon Balls are pretty handy... But we're here, Broly. My home." You smile, tears in your eyes. "We're safe here."
"You saved me?" Broly whispers, his hand coming to rest on your tattoo again. It's a comfort to him, your warm skin underneath his palm.
"Of course." You murmur. "You deserved so much more... I could only imagine showing you life on Albomaculata. No pain, no suffering... Just beautiful things."
"You are beautiful."
You smile at him and place a blue and white zantedeschia in his hair. He feels hazy and blinks slowly, drunk at the effects of the flowers and the air, not yet used to the romantic aura of the planet. He looks at you and smiles with hooded eyes. "The... zantedeschia is... with me?"
"Yes. And I'm with you too." You whisper, rubbing his chest and coaxing him to sleep. And when he wakes, you'll show him all of the love and life and colors he's missed out on. Your heart is already giddy at the thought of being home again and sharing it with Broly, giving him everything he's missed out on throughout his life.
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stranger-chichka · 1 year
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These scenes go one by one.
Now, the walls. Drawings/posters in El's room and Mike's basement. Light bulb. Ginger cat/lion/tiger. Flowers (not only the real ones but also the weird flowers in Mike's basement and the dinosaur). Papa = father = pastor/priest/preacher (@aemiron-main I can't stop thinking about your theory about Brenner coming to Creels as a pastor).
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aquariium-ediits · 1 year
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Keith Claes Stimboard, Requested By serekan
Notes; Augh honestly !! He was my fav when I first read the manga (I did not know there was an anime when I got into it). Since my memories for most of the characters are blurry and I couldn't really find much about him through fan works (yeah I do my research for these lmao) I just added things he reminds me of. White soft fabric, lavender and purple flowers and a few sugary treats :D
🤍 💜 🤍 / 🤍 ✨ 🤍 / 🤍 💜 🤍
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galaxyofender · 1 year
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more hadestown au doodles, because this au is rotting my brain, and also me trying to figure out how the hell to draw martyn’s wing coloring
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caramelmochacrow · 1 year
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making outfits for the vocaloids r pretty fun, theyre like barbie dolls...
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saintobio · 6 months
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blank canvas.
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problems arise when your tattoo artist boyfriend starts getting too cozy with the girls that wanted him to do more to their bodies than just inking their skin. the thing is, they knew what he wanted and they knew what you couldn’t give.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags. nudity, insecure!reader, virgin!reader, dry humping, mentions of needles, mentions of cheating, slutshaming
notes. if you’ve been here for a while, yes this is a repost from an old hq fic :’D i rewrote and remodeled it for sukuna bc i feel like he fits this au!
part 2 | part 3
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Sukuna had seen it all.
He wasn’t dumb and he most definitely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was attractive, bringing him a clientele of adoring women who would frequently visit his tattoo parlor. Who could blame them? He was handsome, had a good physique, and an overwhelming aura that pulled the attraction of many women, single or not, who were desperate to vie for his attention. His tattoos and his dyed hair even added to the overall bad boy persona that he had which, to be fair, was a girl’s guilty pleasure. 
The women were very assertive, it seemed, to try and lure Sukuna into their little seduction game. Was he getting tempted into it? No. He was loyal and he’d like to stay loyal to his kind and beautiful girlfriend. After all, winning you over wasn’t as easy as it would with any other girl. 
However, there were certain moments that almost tested his loyalty to you, especially when some of the women would ask to have their tattoos done on the most intimate places of their bodies. 
Take yesterday as an example: one girl asked to have a tattoo on her buttocks and she was certainly more satisfied at the feeling of Sukuna’s palms on her bum rather than the actual tattoo she was getting. And to top it all, she bluntly asked if he offered more service rather than just giving tattoos. Crazy. 
He had previously mentioned it to you that as part of his job, he was obligated to give his clients the tattoos they requested, regardless of where on their bodies they wanted them. It was strictly business. Ironically, despite dating a tattoo artist like himself, you had no single trace of inked art on your body. You were an untouched canvas that had never been painted on. Still, Sukuna respected your choice and he surely respected your boundaries even more. 
He knew that you had always been a gentle girl when he first met you at the floral shop across the street. You were always prim and proper, always dressed modestly, always following the rules, and always doing the right thing. All you cared about doing was to express your love through the delicate petals you arranged in your flower-scented haven. You were happy to be in your own little bubble, content in the company of fragrant blossoms and soft-spoken solitude. Introverted. Reserved. Pure. Unassuming. He was the exception to your goody-two-shoes nature, because he ended up winning your heart despite being the complete opposite of you. It wasn’t an easy task, either. Deciding to get to know you was on a whim at first, since he was intrigued about your simple joys in life and how you weren’t the type of girls that would visit his tattoo parlor. Something about your demure nature pulled him in until he realized that there was nothing else he wanted in this world but to make you his. He began by greeting you every morning from across the street, then giving you the same bouquet of flowers he purchased from your shop, followed by sending you texts complimenting how beautiful you looked as he watched you from his store, and finally asking you out on spontaneous dates.
It may be a bit peculiar to see the two of you together, but Sukuna pursued you because liked you. He was undeniably in love with you. He liked your smile, liked how cute and adorable you were, and liked how a simple look at you made him want to be a better man. He loved the idea of being with a girl he could protect. 
The main issue was, Sukuna dropped out of college and just decided to open a tattoo parlor business because he simply didn’t want to waste his years studying for something that he wasn’t passionate about. But that was the source of your parents’ distaste. They told you that you had no future with a guy like him. They said that they would disown you as a daughter if you decided to choose him. They called him dirty, rebellious, and uneducated. 
At that point, he thought that you would leave him after learning his rather reckless choices in life, but you stayed. 
You left your parents' home and stayed with him.
And he was grateful that you did. 
So to ask the question again, would he ever do something to betray you after everything that happened between you two? Of course, not. Not in a million years, no
But then again, he was also just doing his job and it wasn’t like he was purposely flirting with the girls that often flocked him during work hours. He was simply accommodating a client. Nothing more, nothing less. 
And on one of those typical days, he had to work overtime when one of his returning clients asked for her fifth tattoo to be done by him. He just finished picking up the tools he needed as she walked towards the recliner seat asking, “Should I sit here?” 
He nodded once, turning around to face the girl who looked at him with her alluring eyes. “Yeah, just let me know when you’re ready.” 
Oh yes, she was surely ready. She even had a smirk displayed on her face when she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, keeping her gaze at him while teasingly revealing her busty pair. 
He didn’t really pay attention to the size of her tits but instead, just casually pointed to a certain part of her body, “Is this where you want it?” he asked, referring to the lower left part of her breast.
With a very flirtatious grin, she nodded, clearly knowing that her assets were her biggest weapon. “Yes. Would it be easier if I took off my bra, yeah?” 
“You don’t have to. I can work it out,” he casually responded, reaching for his glove and busying himself with all the tool preparations. 
The girl let out a silent giggle along with her best friend who sat on the side, waiting for her turn. Waiting to be the recipient of Sukuna’s full attention. Sigh. 
“No, I can take it off for you,” the girl insisted, unclasping her bra and setting her huge breasts free for him to ogle at. They were perfectly round, probably a 40D, and a light pink shade for her nipples. With how firm they were sitting on her chests, she had probably gotten them done.  
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he asked her to sit on the recliner chair. Sukuna had seen women half naked in his shop before, but this was the first time someone willingly got naked in front of him, most especially with other intentions rather than to simply get a tattoo. 
Because of the awkwardness, he went ahead and blasted some heavy metal music to distract his mind. He had to think of something else and not stare at the girl’s luscious tits. He had to shift his mind to somewhere else like, for example, why the girl chose a calligraphy of the words ‘la douleur exquise’ on her skin this time.
“Is this French?” he nonchalantly asked, motioning for her to rest her back while he wiped the chosen area with a damp cotton pad. He specifically avoided brushing his hand on her breast, but it looked like the girl was actually angling herself to make him touch it more. 
“It means exquisite pain,” she purred, batting her thick eyelashes at him. 
His lips formed a smirk, impressed at how much of a skank she was willing to be for him. It wasn’t new, as established before. He’d also had a fair share of women who tried to get into his pants last week, but none of them were successful. He actually found it entertaining to watch them do all sorts of stunts to make him give in. To make him submit himself to his carnal desires. He was a man after all. He had needs, he had to get some form of release, otherwise it could pose a problem in his masculinity. 
All while she was getting her tattoo done, the other girl got up from her seat to walk closer to her best friend. Sukuna decided to refer to them in his head as Slut 1 and Slut 2 because he had no intentions of knowing their names. He knew slut-shaming was terrible, but he never said he was a man of virtue and truthfully, how else could he describe them? 
“Hey, Sukuna,” the other girl called, sitting at an empty stool with a smile. “You’re single, right?” 
He kept his eyes focused on the skin he was inking on. “...No.” 
Even from the corner of his eye, he knew that both girls looked surprised, “No way? You have a girlfriend?” 
Was it really that much of a shock? 
“Yeah, she owns the floral shop across the street,” he mumbled, wiping the trace of blood on the girl’s skin after he finished another letter. 
There was a visible pout on Slut 1’s face as if learning that Sukuna had a girlfriend was more painful than the needle pricking at her skin. “So, what’s she like?” 
Sukuna thought for a while because he didn’t know where to begin. It was too much of a long story for them to hear about. You were everything he wanted in a woman and that was all he knew. “She’s cute and kind.” 
His words earned a giggle from Slut 2. “Is she like the good girl type?” 
“She is.” He figured it would be okay to converse about you like this. Besides, he would rather be talking about you than to have these girls just try to flirt with him relentlessly. 
“How much of a good girl, though?” Slut 1 egged on, “I bet she’s a virgin and a prude.” 
That was obviously none of their business, but damn. They hit a nerve that they shouldn’t have. No one else had managed to bring up a topic like that to him, more so a topic that he himself knew not to cross. His sex life wasn’t as fruitful as anyone thought so, yet not once in his life did he complain. Not once did he talk about it to anyone. Not once did he tell anyone that he had been dating you for a year now and you two never really went further than making out. 
“I respect her,” was his answer, much to the two girls’ dismay.
“That’s kinda boring, though,” the other girl claimed, draping her arm around his shoulder before leaning close to his ear. “You’re still a man and you have needs. If I were her, I’d sleep with you every day. In every position.” 
The girl on the recliner chair grinned. “Totally! Like, you’re so hot and I feel like you’re good in bed.” 
Fuck. 
He almost messed up one of the letters because his mind just flew to somewhere unforgivable. It was a sin to even think about, but shit, he definitely missed the feeling of fucking someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time he did so. 
“Sukuna?” 
He snapped out of his trance and looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, only to find you by the door, your eyes filled with hurt.
“Hey—” 
Your voice was caught in your throat as you avoided his gaze. “I just... I thought you were done.” 
In a swift motion, you hurriedly walked out of the room before dashing out the door. You didn’t even bother to look back, dead set on leaving him alone with the girls. Your footsteps were far too quick to even catch and he was hoping that you would at least slow down. 
“Babe!” he called, unable to chase after you as you shut the door. An exasperated sigh followed. 
This was going to be a big problem 
Just what was he thinking? 
He had a half naked girl in front of him and another girl clinging to him like he didn’t have a girlfriend. It must have hurt you a lot. No, it definitely wrecked you.
“Uh-oh...” the girl mocked. “I can sense trouble” 
He decided to leave it be for now and get his job done as soon as possible, even thinking of banning the two girls from going into his shop just to avoid further trouble. He had a lot of explaining to do and he couldn’t wait to go home to make sure that you would listen to him, not overthink the whole thing and place your assumptions because hurting you was the last thing he would do.
At least, he hoped you knew that.   
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You were washing the dishes when Sukuna came home and the first thing he did was to wrap his arms around you. He had your waist caged in his tight embrace, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered sweet nothings to you. To be real, you weren’t in the mood to see his face after what you saw this afternoon. You get it—he was exposed to all sorts of people with his line of work and most of them probably couldn’t just ignore his physical appearance. You were aware that some girls were only getting a tattoo to get close to him. Heck, you were aware that they all wanted to be with him.
But the only reason you were hurt wasn’t because he was desired by women, but because those very same women were all better than you in more ways than one. They fit his type more than you did and you were sure that they could give him exactly what he wanted. 
Still, it awfully tugged at your heartstrings. 
He was yours, not theirs. You had the right to be jealous when a girl was getting cozy with your man, but to see him letting them have their way? That was a different story. 
“Baby, talk to me,” he mumbled, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on your neck. 
You gave him the silent treatment as you walked away and dried your hands with a towel. What else would you say? He should already be aware of why you were acting that way. He should be the one to try and talk to you, not the other way around. And with your stubborn mind, you did your best to keep your insouciance, pulling his tattooed arms off of you and heading towards the couch. 
You could hear his sigh as he followed you, but you were determined to keep your eyes glued on the TV screen. If he wanted to talk, he should do the talking, you reminded yourself over and over. 
“You’re really pissed at me, huh,” he spoke as soon as he sat next to you, a hand carefully placed on your thigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“They’re pretty hot, aren’t they?” The bitter question left your mouth before you thought of holding back. 
He scooted closer and hooked an arm around your shoulder this time. “Definitely nowhere near as hot as my girlfriend.” 
What a load of… You rolled your eyes, remembering how the girls looked and how comfortable he was with them. “Yeah, right.” 
You couldn’t explain the tightness on your chest every time you recalled the scene earlier because you knew, you just knew, that there was more that could have happened if you didn’t check on him. You saw it in his eyes, even for a split second, that he almost gave in to temptation. How could he not? You were a prude just as they described—just because you didn’t have any sexual experience like they did. Perhaps when they called you boring, they were right and Sukuna wanted to agree. 
He couldn’t be stuck with a girlfriend that he couldn’t even have sex with, could he? 
“I shouldn’t have let them put their hands on me like that,” he admitted, showing his dire attempt to look apologetic. “Only you can.” 
You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t even know why you’re still with me, Sukuna. I put so many boundaries between us. Don’t you get tired of me?” 
“Fuck no,” he quickly answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Never. You’re the only one for me.” 
Truth be told, you did feel bad that he couldn’t fully experience you as a girlfriend, but he had been very patient and respectful towards you. He never crossed the line and never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He said he was doing that because you never gave up on him even when you had the choice to. He said that you were worth waiting for. He said that he was satisfied with what you two already had.
Maybe you could let this one incident go, after all, he was never really a bad boyfriend to you. Sure, he looked like a bad boy, but when it came to you, he was surprisingly soft. 
“Okay,” you muttered, sighing in defeat and finally meeting his eyes. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t care if they get naked in front of you. Please set some boundaries and don’t entertain them too much or you’ll give off the wrong impression.” 
Your leniency earned a smile from him, delighted to earn your trust again so he made an effort to peck your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“You’re annoying.” 
“You love me.” 
“I do,” you professed, placing a hand on his cheek, “so much.” 
Pleased with your words, he leaned in again to give you a much, much deeper kiss. He knew it was all he could do with you, but he wanted to make you feel that his kisses were satisfying enough for the both of you. Just with the way he moved his lips against yours and how your tongue rolled around his—it was almost impossible to breathe at one point, but he softened the kiss to allow yourself to catch some air. 
Gosh, you were jealous again. You were becoming annoyed as your mind ran at full speed, thinking of how those girls thought they could put their hands on your man. You were livid at how they tried to steal him from you. 
“You’re mine, right?” you asked for reassurance, pulling away to look at his dominating eyes. 
The smirk on his lips was replaced by a cheeky grin. “All yours, darling.” 
You didn’t know what gave you the sudden confidence to straddle his lap after he said that, but it just felt right. You wanted more of his physical affection and felt like you couldn’t get enough. Both of you were taken aback, obviously, because this wasn’t something you would normally do, and so the heat on your cheeks was mixing with the surprised look on his face. You were sitting directly on his crotch and he was having a hard time to control himself. 
“Babe,” he breathed on your neck. “You don’t have to force yourself.” 
He was right, but the thought of the other girls constantly seducing him behind your back just gave way to your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have the most perfect body in the world and you most definitely didn’t have the skills in bed that he expected—you were scared that you might lose him because of these facts. Or that he would find someone better, even at the cost of having them on the side. 
“Hey,” he spoke again, making you look at his eyes as you relaxed into his touch. “It’s fine. If you want it, I can be gentle. We can go slow.” 
“I-I don’t know... I just,” you hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. 
You didn’t know why sex intimidated you. It should be as easy as 1-2-3,  just him putting his member inside you, right? But you weren’t really scared of doing the act itself, you were scared that once you did it, he would leave you because he already got what he wanted. Losing it to the wrong person sounds like a nightmare and that was why you were having trouble coming into terms of losing your virginity before marriage. 
You could feel the hardness on his crotch pressing against your core and you didn’t expect a moan escaping your lips when you moved at the slightest. The fabric of your shorts were thin enough for you to feel the outline of his hardened member, displaying a prominent bulge on his sweatpants. You haven’t seen how big he was, but you could tell just by looking at his bulge that he was huge. Could you even take that? 
He held your waist and guided you to move again, this time urging you to move your hips back and forth, allowing you to feel the friction from his hard erection. Lust was clouding his eyes and it made you feel weak. 
“How does it feel?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your ear. 
You continued grinding on him with your lips parted, releasing your silent moans, “G-Good.”
He leaned forward to kiss your neck, eventually sucking the soft skin to leave his beautiful marks. “I wanna eat you down there, baby,” he growls under his breath, squeezing your right breast, “You’re gonna taste so good, I bet.” 
“Suku—” you whined, gripping his hair while he started matching your movements with his own. It was a foreign feeling for you to feel his bulge rubbing against your untouched core. 
“Fuck,” he cussed in a low voice, squeezing your ass with his huge hands in growing excitement. “Let me get a condom.” 
This was it. 
It was happening. 
Or was it?
Your eyes widened in panic as you pushed him back onto the couch. It was as though all of your senses were awakened and your body was telling you that you shouldn’t be doing all this. “N-No, I... I’m not ready.” 
You didn’t mean to always chicken out when you two were almost about to do it. You just didn’t feel confident enough to give yourself yet and even if you badly wanted to, you just couldn’t make yourself do it.
You could see the hint of disappointment on his face and he was trying to hide it. 
“Right,” he exhaled deeply with his head thrown back on the headrest. “It’s alright. Maybe next time,” he convinced himself. 
“I’m sorry,” you softly mumbled, hand gripping on his shirt. 
He gave you a quick peck on the lips before pulling you out of his lap and getting up from the couch. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” 
You stayed seated as you watched him walk away. “Where are you going?” 
“I have to finish this off on my own,” he answered without looking back. You realized he was referring to the act of touching himself because you just couldn’t do the job for him. It was obvious how frustrated he was and for goodness sake, you did feel guilty, but then again, he didn’t act like this before. When you told him you didn’t want to do it further, he would simply laugh it off and say he would wait for you. 
This wasn’t the same Sukuna that said that. 
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You became a little paranoid. 
Considering that girls would still pay your boyfriend a visit at the tattoo parlor, you always ended up overthinking about what he was doing while you were supposed to be busy at the floral shop. In the middle of arranging a bouquet of beautiful peonies, your mind was on haywire. You just didn’t feel at ease. You felt like anyone could easily snatch him away from you because you weren’t particularly a striking girl to begin with. You were leaning on the simple, conservative side rather than the rebellious, liberated women that swarmed his shop in hopes of sleeping with him. 
Because your thoughts were eating you alive, you decided to head to his tattoo parlor after closing the shop to make sure that he wasn’t doing any funny business. 
And you were somehow right. 
About three girls were in there this time, two of which you had already seen a couple of days ago, and they were already leaving the parlor just as you arrived. 
“You’re really amazing, Sukuna,” one of the girls told him in gratitude, “I might get another one soon.” 
You watched them walk past you with a smug expression on their faces as they left the shop. Sukuna had then seen you standing by the door with your arms crossed. 
“Really?” you questioned, walking inside with a frown. “They’re here again?” 
He sighed and walked back to his station while cleaning the mess from the tattoo session. He wasn’t even trying to win you over anymore. “I can’t just ask them not to come anymore. They’re still clients.”
“Let me guess,” you continued, “Did one of them get naked in front of you again? Did you let them put their hands all over you again? Did you perhaps forget that you had a girlfriend again?” 
His brows, now furrowed in annoyance and his mouth, thinning in displeasure. “No. We talked about this.” 
You held your breath, raising a brow in return. “I’m starting to think you’re doing more for them than just giving them tattoos.” 
“Like, what? Sell my body?” His question was clearly a taunt. A spasm of irritation crossed his face, but he still managed to display a mocking smile. “Is that what you’re suggesting, angel?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Then, what?” 
“You know what I mean,” you replied, trying to get your point across while keeping your composure. “You’re an attractive man and they’re the type of women you would willingly sleep with.” 
“Jesus. You’re so insecure, it’s crazy,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at you. 
Insecure? You couldn’t believe, just couldn’t believe he called you insecure. The air crackled with tension as your jaw tightened, muscles twitching with every suppressed urge to lash out.
“I wonder why!” Your voice rose hysterically. “If you weren’t busy flirting with those girls, maybe I won’t be so insecure.” 
“I said I’m not flirting with them!” he argued, slamming his gloves on the floor. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he looked at you with frustration that you had never seen before. It hurt. It certainly hurt. He had been acting distant since the night you didn’t give in to him and you knew that his exasperation towards you was rooting from that. 
Your breathing became unsteady. “But you know you’d sleep with them if given the chance. Since I couldn’t do it with you.” 
“Then, just fucking do it with me instead of bitching about it every day!” he snapped, voice thick with insinuation. “I don’t wanna be stuck acting like I give two shits about your interest in flowers and whatever nonsense you like to talk about. I wanna be with someone I can have sex with, not sit on the couch all day with a boring person like you!” 
His hurtful words left you frozen like a statue, unable to move while being dominated by the shooting pain inside your chest. 
You knew this day would come—that he would eventually get tired of waiting around for something that he could easily get from others. However, what hurt you most was the fact you believed he wasn’t that type of guy. That he wasn’t with you solely for what you could give, but rather, for what you just had. You thought he sincerely understood your boundaries and respected your choices the very same way you respected his, but it seemed that he had another thought in his head all along. 
After seeing the look on your face, Sukuna had softened his gaze and walked closer to you in reproach to his words and actions, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean that.” 
A tear fell from your eye as you looked at him with both anger and pain building inside of you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You wanna have sex? Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence. “You wanna do it so bad, let’s fucking do it, then!” 
Your fingers forced their way to spitefully unbutton your blouse despite his desperate efforts to stop you. You must be going crazy. But also, he drove you to this point. 
“Baby, no,” he said in remorse, grabbing your wrists tightly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m content with you. I really am, I’m sorry. Please.” 
Your chest heaved as you cried, unable to stop your emotions from exposing all of your vulnerabilities. “It’s obviously not enough for you.” Your voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness as you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “You knew what kinda girl I am when you dated me.”
He pulled you for a hug and kissed your temple way too many times that you lost count. He felt absolutely sorry for ever hurting you with his words, but they just hit you so painfully to the point that your gaze grew distant and your face was clouded with resignation. 
“I know what kinda girl you are and I’m in love with you for it,” he reaffirmed, as if trying to get it through your head but his words were beginning to feel empty. “Please, believe me. I really didn’t mean what I said. You’re enough for me, baby. You’re all I want.” 
You didn’t feel comfort from his words, but you still returned his embrace because you loved him. Because you knew, even if he said more hurtful words, that you would still love him. Sure, you would be angry, but your love for him ruled higher than your pride. 
You were just scared of losing him over something like this. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear before placing a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. 
When he pulled away, your heart still felt heavy, but you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. 
“I love you, too.” 
He ran his thumb across your cheek and held your waist on his other hand. You just couldn’t get his words out of your head even after he apologized, because you never knew he was seeing your relationship that way all along. 
The girls were right. He was a man after all and he had needs. 
The fact that he was staying with you despite not fulfilling his needs must be a work of charity for him, and eventually, he would get sick of waiting around. He would desire you less and less the more the days passed by and it wasn’t absolutely crazy to think that he could potentially meet another girl he liked that was willing to give it all. 
The mere thought of it scared you. 
“I’ll do it with you tonight,” you offered, your voice breaking, hoping that you could finally break the barrier and be enough for him. 
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etfrin · 5 months
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⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!
⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>
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It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.
You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.
You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.
You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.
It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’
Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.
It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).
The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.
He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!
The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.
‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.
‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’
He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.
Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.
Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.
He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.
“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”
He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.
His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.
“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”
“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.
He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.
The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.
He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?
He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.
It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.
“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”
That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.
The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’
The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.
“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”
You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”
“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.
You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.
He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.
You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.
You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.
Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.
His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.
‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.
“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.
Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.
‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.
He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.
He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.
You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.
You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.
You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.
“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.
Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.
“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.
He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.
He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.
“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.
His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.
His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.
It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.
You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.
Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.
You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.
As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.
“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.
“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”
Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”
You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”
His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.
He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.
His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.
“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.
“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.
“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”
You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.
You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.
What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.
One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.
“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.
Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.
The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.
What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”
The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.
He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.
He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.
He loves you after all, in his twisted way.
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tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer
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turontot · 4 months
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HEARTS!
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this started out as a floyd sketch and then creek just decided to come with him. theyre a package deal when doodling it seems.
(PLEASE DM ME FIRST FOR PERMISSION IF YOU PLAN ON REPOSTING!)
honestly i might turn this into a keychain.. its really cute
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konigsblog · 7 months
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periods with simon riley ... (because im on my period!!) ☀️
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he doesn't have a uterus, he understands why you bleed, just not how to take care of it. simon finds you curled up in bed in the middle of the afternoon, sighing deeply before pulling the covers off you, revealing a sad, sobbing mess.
you have your hands covering your stomach in agony as your cramps worsen, your lower back pain increasing as you're laying in an uncomfortable position, and the only thing you want is chocolate and a bath. he coos at you, sitting beside you and nestling his hands in your hair in a soothing manner, your forehead hot and your face flushed as your cramps cause your stomach to churn and twist.
through discomfort, you grip his hand, whining for his help as the pain continues. he feels you drag his hands to your stomach, presses flat against it, using them as a hot water bottle. “'s alright, princess. what can i help you with?” simon's voice is tender and loving, soft and gentle, his hand coming up to cup your jaw. “bath, please.” he hears your whimper, sitting upright and pulling you into his arms, taking you to the bathroom as he fills the bathtub with warm, hot water.
you lean back, your back pain spreading down and making you wince. he adds the bubbles, a bath bomb giving it a pretty gradient, lights dimmed to ease your headache. “there, pretty girl. just relax f'me, yeah?” the bubbles around you soak your body, feeling him squirt some body wash onto his hands and apply it to your leg. he treats you like you're unwell, trying to make you feel comforted, eyes glossy from the pain.
the scent of roses and flowers, a hint and note if vanilla soothe you. the smell hits your nose, making you hum in approval as you give him a weak smile a small ‘thank you’. the towel wrapped around your body, drying you off before slipping some comfy pjamas bottoms on, a hoodie of his around you.
watches you favourite movie with your while rubbing your back, occasionally adding pressure to relieve the pain, your head rested on his lap, fallen into a sleepy haze with soft snores leaving your lips. perhaps, you two should just sleep on the couch. he doesn't want to deak with your grumpiness after being awoken and moved to bed ...
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mattyriddlesbitch · 18 days
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Now here me out… Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader x Theodore Nott jealous threesome, where they try to hog all the attention of the reader while visiting the Eiffel Tower (look it up)
Anonymous Flowers
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader x Theodore Nott!
Warnings: threesome, cussing, oral(male and female receiving), fingering
18+ Minors DNI!
Oh, honey, this Eiffel Tower is my absolute favorite. Doesn't it look great this time of year?
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It wasn't a secret that both Mattheo and Theodore liked you. However, you didn't want to choose between them and they respected that. Mostly. They'd still shamelessly flirt with you. And try to win your affections with gifts and gestures. But they always reassured you that you didn't need to choose or make things awkward.
Things were going smoothly between all of you, no mean comments to each other, no signs of jealousy minus the occasional glare when the other touched you. 
Until you got anonymous flowers sent to your dorm and texted both of them about it to see if either of them sent it. After about 5 minutes, they both showed up at your dorm. Both knocking loudly.
You opened the door with an annoyed look at how loud they were being. “What?” You asked them loudly. They both pushed past you and into your dorm, looking at the flowers. “No, come in. Make yourselves at home.” You said sarcastically as you closed the door.
You could hear them arguing as you moved to sit back on your bed.
“I didn't send these.” Mattheo said.
“Stop fucking lying.” Theodore said back to him.
“I'm not lying! Why the fuck wouldn't I want her to know I sent them?” Mattheo was getting angry.
“I don't know! I don't know your fucking logic!” Theodore was getting just as angry.
“Guys!” You said loudly to get their attention and they both turned their heads to you. “Neither of you would send something anonymously like that, we figured that out so far, geniuses. That means someone else sent it.”
“Who in the hell would send flowers to my girl?” Mattheo said as he picked up the flowers and inspected them.
“Your girl? You know damn well she's not just yours.” Theo said, taking the flowers from him and inspecting them himself.
“Can you guys stop arguing? I'm not either of yours’ girl.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh, you hear that, Theo?” Mattheo said as he looked over at you.
“She doesn't realize she's ours.” Theodore said as he looked at you too.
“Maybe it's time to show her who she belongs to.”
“I think she could use the reminder since she's getting flowers from some other dickhead.” Theodore said as he put the flowers down and they both walked over to where you were on the bed.
“What?” You asked as you kept looking between both of them.
“You're letting other guys give you attention, darling.” Mattheo said as he grabbed your chin and leaned in close to you.
“That's our job, principessa.” Theodore added, running a hand through your hair.
“It seems you need to learn that, though.” Mattheo trailed his hand to your cheek.
“Are you giving other guys attention? Trying to give other guys what's ours?” Theodore asked, moving his hand to the side of your neck.
Their touches were almost dizzying. “No.”
Theodore tsked. “I think she's lying.”
“It's fine. She won't be for long.” Mattheo gripped the back of your hair tightly and pulled your head back, kissing you suddenly. You gripped at his shirt in surprise.
“You can't just do that, Matt.” Theodore said, pushing Mattheo back from you.
“Oh, but she tastes so good.” Mattheo smiled wickedly at the other boy.
Theodore was close to saying something when you reached up and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss you. He groaned at your bold move as Mattheo moved to sit behind you on the bed, kissing at your neck. As much as both boys hated sharing you, they hated everyone else more than each other. They both worked together in getting you naked, Mattheo working on your blouse and Theodore made quick work of your skirt and panties.
He kneeled between your legs in front of the bed and started kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. Mattheo managed to get your blouse off and quickly got your bra off too, using his hands to tease your nipples. The boys each had a pretty good view of what the other was doing and it only seemed to spur them on more.
Theodore finally licked at your sweet cunt, groaning as you moaned above him, his eyes fighting to watch your face and Mattheo's hands on your boobs.
Mattheo was kissing and biting at your neck as he pinched and pulled at your nipples. He, too, was flicking his eyes between your breasts and Theo lapping at your pussy.
You were so busy feeling everything, you didn't really notice the tension between the two men at the moment. You were moaning and whimpering, one hand in Theodore's hair and the other on one of Mattheo's arms.
“Does that feel good, princess?” Mattheo asked behind you. “Am I making you feel good?”
“I'm making her feel better. And you taste fucking amazing, cara mia.” Theodore said, pushing two fingers inside you.
“Oh, god, you both are so good.” You moan, leaning your head back onto Mattheo's shoulder.
Mattheo groaned and you felt it against your back. “Let me fucking taste her.”
“Not until I got her cumming on my face.” Theodore said with a smug smirk.
“You think I'm letting you make her cum first?” Mattheo said and moved to pull you further onto the bed, completely away from Theodore. He laid you back on the pillows as he settled between your legs, attaching his mouth to your clit.
Theodore was seething, but climbed up next to you guys. He pushed Mattheo over slightly so he could slide his fingers back into you.
Your eyes rolled back as you now had Mattheo's mouth abusing your poor clit and Theodore's long fingers pumping in and out of you. “Holy fuck, shit.” You moaned, one hand flying to Mattheo's hair and the other to the sheets beside you, which Theodore saw and held your hand. He moved to kiss you for a moment before kissing and biting at your chest, his fingers never faulting. Mattheo groaned and reached a hand up to play with one of your nipples as he looked up at you between your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight and feel, already overwhelmed from his mouth and Theodore's fingers.
It was all too much and they had you cumming with a loud cry, trembling as your legs were trying to close on Mattheo's head. Mattheo relented once he noticed you relaxed a little and leaned up to kiss you again. Theodore removed his fingers too and rubbed your thighs soothingly. 
“You did so good for me, cara mia.” Theodore said.
Mattheo pulled back and glared at Theodore. “For you?” He scoffed "No, princess, you did perfect for me.” Mattheo said as he looked back at you.
“Let me feel your pussy wrapped around me.” Theodore said and brought his free hand to your cheek.
“That's not fair.” Mattheo snapped at Theo.
You touched his arm and said, “I have an idea.” They both looked at you now, ready to hear it. “One on each side. One of you gets my mouth, one gets my pussy. Then maybe switch if you want.” You say, cheeks burning at the suggestion.
The boys looked at each other for a moment.
“I want her pussy.” Theodore said.
“I'll get that pretty little mouth then.” Mattheo said as he looked at you with a smile. He helped you up onto all fours suddenly.
The boys wasted no time stripping, eager to get their hands back on you.
Theodore came up behind you, pressing soft kisses to your back before lining up at your entrance. As pushed into you and you both moaned. “ God, you feel heavenly, principessa.”
Mattheo was in front of you within seconds of that. He brushed your cheek softly for a second. “Open up, baby.” He said, interrupting the soft moment with his cock tapping your lips. You opened your mouth and he pushed in, timing his thrusts with Theodore.
“You talk like a dick.” Theodore said from behind you.
“Did that bother you, love?” Mattheo asked as he looked down at you. You moaned around his cock and he smiled, letting out a soft moan himself. “She said it’s fine.”
“She’s probably too fucked out on my dick to even pay attention to you.” Theodore said. “Isn’t that right, mi amore?” He asked you, giving you a light spank and you moaned loudly in reply around Mattheo’s dick.
“You keep moaning like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess.” Mattheo said to you.
“So quick?” Theodore teased.
You really weren’t paying much attention to the conversation with the way Theodore was thrusting inside you and Mattheo was hitting the back of your throat.
“You would too if you felt her mouth.” Mattheo said, groaning when you gagged around him.
“My cock’s a bit busy stretching out her pussy right now.” Theodore said.
Your orgasm was building this whole time and the way Theodore suddenly angled his hips had his dick hitting that sweet spot in you, making you cum within seconds, trembling and moaning around Mattheo’s cock.
“That’s fucking it, principessa. Make a mess of my cock.” Theodore said as he helped ride out your high.
“Christ.” Mattheo muttered as he slowed his thrust to not overwhelm you.
“I got what I wanted, let me feel her mouth.” Theodore said, pulling out of you and helping you get your mouth off of Mattheo before flipping you over onto your back, moving you so your head was at the edge of the bed.
“You can’t fucking take her like that.” Mattheo said, but made no complaints about the new position.
“Please.” You whined from the loss of contact from either of them.
“I got you, mi amore.” Theodore said as he pushed into your mouth, the angle letting him hit a little deeper in your throat as you gagged and teared up.
“Don’t worry, princess.” Mattheo reassured as he settled between your legs and pushed in your puffy, sensitive cunt.
You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm and the boys were so close already as well from the last position. Both boys toyed with your breasts, praising you for taking their cocks so well. You came first, it only took seconds once Mattheo started playing with your clit.
“Fuck, angel. You feel fucking perfect.” Mattheo said with some strain right before he came inside you.
Theodore didn’t last much longer as you moaned and cried around his dick. “You’re so good for me, cara mia. So fucking good.” He said as he came down your throat.
The boys pulled out of you and both argued with each other as they fussed over cleaning you up.
Whatever problems this may cause was definitely not a concern in your head at the moment as you watched your two boys cleaning you up together.
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pupkashi · 9 months
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oranges
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gojo knows how to peel oranges
a/n: just something simple inspired by the poem oranges by jean little, i cried the first time i read it, hope you guys enjoy <3
wordcount: 843
masterlist
there was a lot you did for satoru.
you helped ground him, reminded him to drink water, made him food, taught him how to fold clothes and do laundry, showed him all your favorites- from places to eat and videos to play.
you reminded him what love felt like, your tender touches late at night, gentle thumb pads wiping away hot tears, soft whispers and proclamations of love.
satoru always wondered what he did for you.
he didn’t think much of the quality time he’d spend with you, he thought that was a given. he often brushed past the shower of compliments he gave you daily, figuring that was the standard. the little gestures of holding doors open, buying you flowers, remembering your favorite candle scent and buying your shampoo seemed too natural to him for it to be considered and outward act of love.
“you want some oranges?” you asked, looking at him with a smile from the kitchen.
“i could go for some oranges” he replies, getting up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, taking an orange in his hand.
his thumbs easily tear into through the peel, gently digging his finger and separating it seamlessly from the sweet fruit, continuing his motion until the peel comes completely off, all in one piece.
you on the other hand, are putting too much force into your thumb, your finger piercing straight into the flesh of the fruit, shrieking when the juice gets on your face a bit.
“how do you always peel it so neatly? i have never once been able to” you huff, setting the now punctured Orange on a towel, washing your hands in the sink before drying them off.
“cmon sweetheart it really isn’t that hard!” satoru grins, taking your orange and easily peeling it apart neatly. “you have to do this, and then… get it there and boom!” his smile widening as he stares at you, a pout on your lips and an annoyed look in your eyes.
“yeah yeah mr. ‘I’m so good at everything’” you tease, tasking the orange from his hand and munching on a piece. “they’re sweet today” you smile, putting both your pieces and satoru’s in a bowl, heading back to the couch the two of you were on.
two weeks later the two of you are cooking dinner, reading off the recipe and realizing the dish called for an orange.
“can you hand me an orange?” you ask, turning around and thanking him as he hands it to you. you were determined to not make a mess this time, it’s just an orange after all.
but as gentle as you were, the peel wouldn’t budge, and the little force you applied proved to be just a little too much as your fingers pierced through the flesh again. you groaned in frustrations satoru already taking it from his hands, a smile on his face as he so easily peeled it.
“coulda just asked” he hums, handing you the orange, you’re glaring at him, giggling when he misses your nose.
“thank you angel boy,” you mumble, chopping the orange and adding it in.
one year later you’re sitting together in a grassy field, the wild blowing past the two of you, your laughter and love filled gazes scattered in the wind.
“i got some oranges from the market today!” you grin, taking them out of the wicker basket and showing them to your snowy haired lover. “you owe me breakfast in bed if i can finally peel this damn citrus fruit” you wager, satoru easily sitting back, a small smirk on his face as he nodded.
“I’ll do so breakfast in bed for a month if you peel it in one piece” your eyes widen at his proposition, nodding before looking at the fruit in your hands.
it’s only ten seconds later that you’re throwing yourself back, saying the fruit was obviously defective because ‘there’s no way the peel was that easy to cut through!’
satoru takes the oranges from you, peeling them perfectly and separating them into neat sections.
“I’m glad i have you to peel my citrus” you smile one night, taking the mandarin slices from his hand and humming in delight as the sweet taste hits your tastebuds.
“I’ll always peel your oranges for you” he replies, voice soft, his blue eyes seem a little lighter and his face a bit more relaxed as he looks at you.
it’s been years since then, and you never learned to peel oranges, the times you’d attempt to, juice would get everywhere and the peel coming off in chunks, the aftermath looked like an orange massacre.
satoru’s heart flutters when he sees the citrus fruit, knowing you’ll hand it to him, for him to peel for you. he knows you’ll always ask him to do this for you.
satoru is grateful everyday that you can’t peel oranges, because with the boundless things you do for him, he knows this is the one thing he’ll always be able to do for you.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
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Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤
Yandere Head Canons:
Defying Destiny
Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)
TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.
Part 1
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You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.
You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?
“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.
You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.
“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?
The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”
“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”
You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”
“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”
The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”
The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”
You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”
You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…
Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!
Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”
As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.
Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…
You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?
You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”
You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”
Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”
Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”
Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”
You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”
And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.
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anantaru · 3 months
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aventurine smut headcanons pretty please miss yoru <333
cw. [ex]plicit, dom aventurine, rough, a little filthy, fem! reader
a/n. i couldn't stop typing aaaa I love this man, he is so attractive guys giggles
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without dissembling the obvious, aventurine was crazy, because he could go on for hours and hours if you wanted him to, always seeking for more.
he was insatiable, uncontrollable when he first sinks himself into your heat and moans out embarrassingly loud to show you what exactly you're doing to him.
his head falls back when you watch him gulp down the assembled saliva in his mouth, his adams apple jostling as he presses his slicked cock back into you, greedily stuffing you full.
this time, it's faster, weaved in need, and aventurine tends to ask you too, wants to know if it feels good as you nod at him weakly, arching your back just enough to keep his cock slotted where it was while sensations race back through your quivering skin.
you were swarmed on how good it felt, speechless as your mouth hangs open the moment he finds a good pace for the both of you, thrusting deep and deep and deep into you, claiming you with the thickness of his girth.
"show me how much of a messy girl you are," only aventurine could say something this filthy with a casualness in utter contrast, particularly while placing his hands under your hips to arch you the way he had found to be the most immaculate— so he can feel you tighten, wrap and suck on his shaft with your warm, wet cunt engulfing him fully.
"f-faster," you babble, "go faster," and he chuckles at your sweet eagerness, "surely that's what you need, sweetheart?"  as he raises an eyebrow before burying his face into your hair, a groan ruminating over the thin layer of skin on your neck as he does exactly what you told him to do.
and remember, he was seriously crazy, his cock remorselessly whacking your insides, rubbing without surcease over your sore walls like he knows you needed him to.
messes of spit ooze down each corner of your mouth as you're being practically thrown back and forth the bed, your jaw slacked open as you attempt to moan out something, anything would do, but the continuous blows and pressures on your pussy had suddenly taken over your bodily functions.
"you're close, i can feel it," aventurine slurs messily into your mouth before lapping through your lips with his tongue. he did it so eagerly he almost missed and hit your chin a little, the notable, coarse sounds of your pussy being filled and pleasured adding to the sensation.
"i just need you to hang on, yeah?" the wanton knots in your lower stomach untwisted a whole lot quicker than he'd originally expect them to, but undoubtedly, he doesn't mind watching the fruits of his labor glow into a flowering fancy.
who would've thought that aventurine would make you cum that fast? naturally, he did. he expected it.
that's all that can happen when you take into account just how thick his girth would push through each crevice of your walls, at once and immediate— his temperate shaft crossing your creamy walls like he was trying to corrupt you.
pop, and the knots in your stomach begin to explode, and all you can do was cry out through a strained jaw when he fucks you through it, your addicting juices gushing over his shaft and pelvis, filthily dribbling down his balls as you claim him with your arousal, the white substance clinging on his skin like the sweetest, stickiest honey.
"oh my," he sighs dreamily, "you're way too generous, dear," a satisfied grin glittering over the small dimples on his cheeks.
such excess of your fluids have certainly hugged his ego tight, aventurine will make sure to never forget savoring this moment even in his memories and dreams.
the sheer feeling of his hands meeting your body brought forth additional sparks of emotions that pressed to the surface of your skin, changing the temperature of your complete frame.
your pussy squelches and throbs around him obscenely loud, the only reason for it being just how helplessly wet he made you in this short period, granted that you knew that he'd fuck you the entire night if you so desired it.
and oh, how well he fucked you, how desperately he massages your juices over your walls like he saw it as a sick challenge to unravel you faster each time.
hot to his movements, you tiredly wrap your arms around him while laying all but spent against the bed— but aventurine doesn't stop here, while naturally, his thrusts had switched into deep grinds instead, a level slower, but still being able to feel up your staggeringly hot splotches.
for one searing, hot second, he listens to your tremulous heaves. his hand slides from your hips to your face as to drag his thumb over the tears coated cheeks, holding you delicately in clear contrast to his rough demeanor in bed.
"you're so pretty, fuck, so damn pretty," aventurine spills his deep feelings for you into this, into the jellylike utterance of his words— and do not misunderstand, because he was still crazy, touch starved of you.
but now, his touch was tender, cushiony as how you'd imagine clouds to be.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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