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ladyescapism · 1 year

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second choice - part 3

summary: azriel's long-time casual fling wants more, when she is rejected, she is pursued by a certain Autumn prince. will they remain fronds, or be torn apart?

a/n: here is part three to second choice. i didn't know if I was going to make a part three to this but here we are. I am going to make a part four to wrap everything up and it will be the next thing I post. beware, azriel is a real asshole in this one, more so than the last two.

warnings: violation of privacy, mentions of domestic violence, drinking, infidelity, and death

wc: 2,700

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Three months had passed since Elain’s wedding, and everything had gone back to as normal as it could be. You signed the final contract with Rhys, selling the weapon and its manufacturing rights to him for an obscene amount of money.

You celebrated with the Inner Circle one night at Rita’s when our semester finished. There were some toasts in your honor that made you tear up. You had a night of fun and laughter with your friends. You talked about your travel plans. You wanted to go see the great libraries in the Day Court and attend the Harvest Festival in the Autumn Court. Everyone was supportive of your plans, and Rhys suggested writing to Lucien about skipping the waitlist to access the libraries.

Azriel didn’t show up.

At the end of the night, you found yourself walking back to your apartment with Mor, you having drank too much while she was still sober enough to make sure you got to the right apartment building.

“You’ll have fun, seeing the courts,” she sighed into the cool night air. “It has always been something I enjoyed.”

“I hope so,” you mused, the alcohol muddling your thoughts.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the friendship between you and Mor or the disappointment of Azriel not showing up for you that night that made you confess your feelings to her.

“I have other reasons for going to Autumn.”

She paused and looked over at you in confusion.

“At Elain’s wedding, remember how I danced with Eris and made Az super angry at me? Well, right before that he asked if he could start sending me letters. He did and we’ve been writing back and forth. When I go, I was planning on staying near or at the Forest House and spending time with him while I’m there.”

Staring at the ground and kicking at it with your shoes was a better option than looking at what was undoubtably betrayal and anger crossing her face.

“Just be careful when it comes to Autumn courtiers. They are a ruthless bunch, Eris included.”

“You’re not mad?” You looked up at your friend, shocked at her calm response.

“You’re a grown female, Y/N. I have no say in what you do or who you spend your time with. I can warn you about Eris and his ilk. But if you want to spend time with him, then you don’t need my permission.”

You wrapped your arms around the amazing female you called your friend.

“Thank you,” you whispered in her ear.

“No need to thank me, Y/N.” You released her from the hug. “It’s what friends do. Besides, look at what happened to Azriel when he tried to meddle with who you spend time with.”

You let out a long sigh and started walking in the direction of your apartment again.

“Az and I were – are – complicated. More than friends but never lovers. Not real lovers anyways.”

“Friends with benefits,” she offered, shrugging her shoulders a little.

“I suppose. But it seemed like his benefits outweighed mine. I mean, the sex was good, but I was a friend, a therapist, and a whore for him. And now he can’t bring himself to come to a celebration for me.”

“I’m still mad you never told me, by the way.”

“It was fun to keep it a secret for the first few weeks, but when he made it clear that he didn’t want people knowing about us, it was more embarrassing to admit I was with him just as a fuck buddy.”

Mor hummed in understanding in what it was like to have a complicated relationship with the shadow singer.

You and Mor reached your apartment building and hugged before saying good night.

Your apartment was the same as you left it, excluding the Illyrian warrior sitting on your couch.

You jumped when you noticed him, bringing a hand to your heart on reflex. “Mother on earth, Az! What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

He looked at you like he did the night you ended things with him. Wounded and dejected.

“Give me a minute.”

You hurried and took off your jacket and put your things down, trying not to look at him as you did so. Azriel in your living room was not a foreign sight, but one you never thought you’d see again.

Having decided you were ready for this conversation, you turned to look at him.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Don’t go to Autumn,” he rushed out. “It’s dangerous to be around people like Eris. Go to Day, Dawn, Summer, or Winter. Hell, go to Spring. Just not Autumn.”

“I am a grown female, Azriel. I make my own decision about where I go and who I spend time with. Not you. And how did you know that I was going to Autumn?”

“I sent the shadows to make sure everyone was safe, and they reported back on that conversation. And you’re right. But-” he stopped. “I am asking you, as a friend, don’t go.”

“If you were my friend then you wouldn’t ask me not to go,” you shouted. “I just told Mor that part of the reason I wanted to go was to see Eris, and she was fine with it. And she has more of a right to be angry with me about spending time with the male who hurt her in the past than you. Why are you doing this to me?”

“I am not doing this to you,” he shouted back. “I am concerned for your safety!”

“No! You are trying to control me and manipulate the feelings I have for you so that you can guilt trip me into doing what you want! Well, my feelings for you have changed. So good luck with that.”

“You’re not my friend anymore,” he questioned, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I want to be your friend, Azriel,” you said, tears threatening to fall. “But friends don’t do this to each other. They don’t tell each other where they can and cannot go or who they can or cannot see. They don’t show up unannounced to make such demands. But I am willing to try, Az, because I care about you. But like I said that night, I can’t be your whore anymore. And this,” you gestured between yourself and him, “isn’t real friendship. This is toxic.”

“It is,” he agreed.

“I need time away, Azriel. Let me have it.”

“Just-” he sighed, “just be careful, Y/N. Eris is a courtier by nature, a cunning one used to getting his way. Don’t let him take advantage of your kindness.”

“I have been around the town a few times, Azriel. Thank you for the concern, but it can take care of myself.”

“Okay then,” he said, defeated.

“If that’s all, I want to go to sleep.”

“I’ll leave then. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Az.”

And with that, he disappeared into darkness and shadow.

THE NEXT DAY

You sat down in the chair at your desk, careful not to spill coffee on the papers scattered everywhere. You would get organized, one day.

Your head was pounding but you needed to write three letters. One to Lucien asking to get into the libraires without having to get on the waiting list, one to your sister asking if the dates you had decided on worked for her and her family, and the last to Eris to confirm your stay at the Forest House.

The letters to Lucien and your sister had been easy. However, every time you went to write a letter to Eris, you stared at the page for at least half an hour before coming up with the proper phrasing.

You needed to reference something that he mentioned in a past letter. You reached for the box that you kept them and opened it. Thumbing through the box, you noticed that the first and second letters he sent you were in the wrong place. Just the two having swapped spots in the chronological order you kept them in. You knew because the dates on top of the letters Eris sent you were always in the same place on the envelope. You looked in there last night to count how many letters you have received from him and would have noticed if they were off.

No one had been in your apartment…

But Azriel. Unannounced. And he could have been in here for hours while you were away at Rita’s.

He wouldn’t.

Yes, a spymaster would look through letters between a foreign High Lord and a professor who just sold a high value weapon if he thought they might be conspiring, you thought. Or if he cared about the person receiving the letters and detested the one sending them.

Before you could think it through or calm down, you used a message box to summon Azriel.

Azriel,

Need to talk. ASAP. My apartment.

Y/N

He arrived a few moments later, a hand on Truth Teller and looking around the room to assess for threats.

Having deemed there was no immediate threat, he looked to you. You were just standing by your desk, letting the pure rage show on your face.

He looked to you, and to the box of letters sitting open on your desk and back to you.

“Y/N-”

“Did you go through my letters?” Your lips were quivering with fury and hot, angry tears were threatening to spill over at the overwhelming feeling.

“Let me explain,” he pleaded. “I needed to make sure you were safe.” He dragged his hands to his hair, pulling the locks back to reveal his face.

“So, you did then?”

“Yes,” he whispered, lowering his head in shame. “Before you got back here after Rita’s, I came in and looked at the letters.”

You didn’t need to know anymore.

“Get out,” you spat. “Now.”

“Let me explain more, please.”

“GET OUT,” you screamed, that voice having not been dragged from your soul in many, many years.

He held your gaze for a few long moments, before disappearing in the shadows.

You sank to the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and letting the angry sobs rack your body.

You stayed like that for the better part of an hour before pounding came to your door.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called from the hallway. “It’s Feyre, Nesta, and Mor. Az was upset when he reported to Rhys this morning and Nesta found the message you sent him. Can we come in?”

You pulled yourself off the floor and padded your way to the door.

You pulled it open to reveal your three best friends standing there with concern on their faces at the look of despair on yours. And you broke down crying once again.

After recounting the details of your morning, Nesta was ready to kill Azriel. Feyre and Mor were ready to help her hide his body.

“I don’t know why he is acting like this,” Feyre said. “He isn’t normally like this.”

“What,” Mor questioned. “Obsessive? Possessive? Domineering? He was like that with me for 500 years. And after I came out and started dating females openly, he acted like anyone mentioning it near him was a personal attack. He was like that with Elaine, especially when she began exploring the bond with Lucien. He was also like that with Gwen when she told him she didn’t want a relationship. He was so convinced it was because she was seeing someone else that he had her followed.”

Nesta just huffed out a long, angry breath.

“I love Az, he’s been like a brother to me for centuries. But he sucks with females.”

“I second that,” Feyre said.

“The worst part of it,” you said. “I’ve been here before.”

The females looked at you in confusion. You decided it was time to offer up your past to the strong, brave females you called friends.

“My husband was like that. Obsessive, possessive, domineering. It was cute when we were dating and first married. How he would get jealous when I went out with friends or talk to other males in class or something.”

You took a deep breath.

“But as our relationship grew, he started isolating me from my friends and my remaining family. Then it got worse. He started reading my mail, even not letting me go shopping by myself. Then came the belittling and name calling.”

You sniffled.

“After half a century of hearing how worthless and stupid and horrible you are, you begin to believe it. You believe that you have to stay with the male that cheats on you and does all these things to you because no one else will ever put up with you.”

You watched as your tears darkened your pants with little circles as they fell.

“And when he hits you, your first instinct isn’t to run. It is to do everything in your power to make sure it never happens again. Which means never bring up the drinking or the other females. Quit your job so that you can keep a clean house and make sure dinner is ready for him when he gets home. But its never enough and you become a punching bag for the male that vowed before the Mother to love you till his dying breath.”

Feyre pulled you to her chest as you finished.

“And when he finally drinks himself sick and dead, you cry tears of relief and not sadness as you bury him.”

You looked to Nesta with a newfound determination as you said, “I will not live like that again. I refuse to live in fear of a male I am supposed to trust. I refuse to let another male control me like that again. I don’t think Azriel has it in him to hit a female, but if I stay on this path with him, then I will go back to living in fear.”

Mor pulled everyone into a group hug, much to Nesta’s annoyance.

“Thank you for sharing that with us,” Mor said, still holding on tight after the sisters pulled away. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

“I know it’s not like what you all have gone through. I didn’t run when people hurt me. When I got knocked down, I didn’t get back up. I kept my head down and took the punches. But it still affects me and the only way I know to make sure I never live like that again is to look for the warning signs and steer clear.”

“Drowning in 70 feet of water has the same result as drowning in 700 feet of water,” Nesta said. “But trauma and how each individual responds to it and heals from it is not something to be compared. It took me a long time to figure that out.”

You nodded in understanding.

The girls stayed for a while longer. Feyre drew you a bath and left you to cleanse the morning’s stresses away.

Once the water turned cold, you readied yourself and sat back down at your desk, preparing to write that letter to Eris.

The phrasing came easy to you after relaxing in the bath for so long. You rambled on for two pages about seeing your family and the Day Court and other trivial matters before cutting yourself off. Eris claimed to like it when you spoke about your day and any and all things affecting you. You never aired out your issues with Azriel to him, though. That would cause a bigger problem than it was worth.

You spent the rest of the day cleaning a few things around your apartment and getting ready to go to dinner with Feyre, Nesta, and Mor. Feyre sent a note asking to go out again a few hours after they left.

You took the letters you needed to send with you, deciding to drop them at the post office before you met the girls for dinner.

“Postage to where, miss,” the clerk at the post office asked.

“The village of Absinthe in the Night Court for this one, the Sol Place in the Day Court for this one, and the Forest House in the Autumn Court for this one, please,” you said, placing each letter on the counter as you stated their destinations.

“Someone is communicating with some important people,” the clerk said slyly.

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out across your face as you thought of the recipient of the last letter.

tags:

@feysandzoyalailover

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #males suck #eris acotar #acotar

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bixels · 2 months

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I watched Starship Troopers tonight.

#personal #dumb #my art #immediately after finishing i was pumped to watch some analysis vids on it #cuz i heard a lot of the drama about the original author being a pro military fascist and the director going “fuck that” and making a satir #scrolling through youtube search results was not promising. lots of male film buffs i would Not trust even on a first glance.#“The Critical Drinker” (pfp of a bearded man drinking alcohol) lol.#and then I saw cinemawins did a video on it and was like oh nice i haven't seen his stuff in a while but he's a pretty leftist creator #scrolled through the comments #second panel face #this sucks i'm outta here.#just leagues and leagues and leagues of anime pfps and right leaning people dogpiling on him for “not understanding what fascism is”#idk it's pretty alien and weird to me watching this movie and going “wow yeah that was pretty obvious huh” like literally the from opening #to the teacher preaching militance and only giving voting rights to “those who serve their nation first and earn it”#and then seeing droves of people online going #WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? It's not anti-fascist and even if it was it's #the director's fault for desecrating heinlein's incredible sci-fi epic vision. ermm media literacy is dead.

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rodolfoparras · 5 months

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Thinking about John Price being a big name in the porn industry not just for his dashing looks but also for the amazing chemistry that he has with his coworkers.

Despite the varied types of content that he makes, Price is mostly known for his facials and even cream pies videos. Price is good at his job, knows how to make the viewer feel engaged in the scene and he knows how to pull a genuine reaction from his costars, unlike the majority of people in the industry.

But recently he’s noticed the declines in views, different types of comments complaining that he’s just making the same old type of videos and even a few news sources saying he’s been swapped out for someone much younger.

All it takes is one click on some run into the ground new source to find out who exactly has come to take his place, only to see that it’s you who’s much younger than him, said to have a much more varied content and with a good amount of views for someone who just started out in the industry.

The curiosity in him hadn’t found peace until he had found out what exactly made your content different from his. Porn is porn isn’t it?

However he’d quickly realized what made your content different when he’d watched a video, matter of fact, multiple videos showing men pinned under your weight as you bully your cock into their holes, men down on all four taking your cock down their throats or with your head buried between their thighs as they scream and sob from pleasure.

Price doesn’t know why but something in him made him contact his manager and request a collaboration with you.

It could be for his decline in views. It could be because he thought he needed something new, something he hadn’t shown his audience before or it could be for the way his cock twitched in attention when watching your videos.

He didn’t think he’d get a yes, pacing back and forth while nervously chewing on his bottom lip only to almost jump in happiness when he received the text saying you had agreed to collaborate with him.

However any trace of happiness disappeared when he’d received the script, because something Price hadn’t expected was to bottom in the scene, yet it said so in the script and for a second he hesitated. Price hasn’t ever bottomed before, neither on nor off camera. He should’ve realized this could happen, since you were the top in all of your videos. But he’d gotten ahead of himself, forgotten about the possibility that this could happen.

For whatever reason Price agrees to do the collab anyway, tells himself he can do it, at least to save his career.

The day of your shoot he’s nervous like he’s never been before, rereading the script over and over, constantly glancing at himself in the mirror, even going as far as praying in hopes that he won’t mess this up.

When he meets you he’s taken by surprise once again. You’re ever so charismatic, shaking his hand and giving him the very same dazzling smile you’d given the camera lens while cumming all over someone’s face.

Price thinks he can do it, takes a deep breath as he lays down onto the sheets, only to swallow hard while you crawl up to him.

He’s sure he almost faints when you grab his chin with your thumb and index “hey hey breathe” you say loud enough for him to hear but not enough for the camera to pick up on it.

There’s a flash of surprise on his face before he does as you say and slowly but surely a bit of that tension bleeds away.

“Good good” you say with a small smile on your face while leaning into his ear, gently nibbling on it before whispering “You tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything and I’ll stop immediately alright?”

Price almost laughs. You’re the rookie here yet you’re making him seem like one but somehow he doesn’t mind it, feels butterflies in his stomach as he nods his head in response.

It all turns into a bit of a blur from there. He remembers you placing kisses all over his body, remembers his dick hard and weeping before you granted him a moment of relief, even how your velvety tongue felt buried between his legs. But what lays engraved in his mind is when he had straddled your lap, hands shaking as they adjusted their grip on your chest and thighs quaking as he lined your cockhead up with his entrance.

“Come on John, show me how well you can take my cock yeah?” You say voice breathy and strained, reading a direct line from the script while desperately trying not to buck up into him.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, head lolling back and eyes squeeze shut as he feels your tip push past his puckered rim

“God just- just like that pretty” you manage to say through gritted teeth, thumb soothingly caressing his hip while eagerly drinking up ever small reaction he gives.

“Feels feels so- so full” he whines out as he continues to take inch by inch, completely forgetting about the cameras on him along with every line in the script.

When you finally bottom out, he’s got fat tears trickling down his cheek, bottom lip wobbling as whines and whimper escape his lips.

“There you are sweetheart” you say, going off script, as your hand cups his cheek, calloused thumb stroking his flushed skin.

In that very moment Price realizes why you’re as popular as you are. It’s not for the varied type of content that you make, it’s not for the men you got pinned under your weight but rather because of how considerate and caring you are towards your partners.

Slowly but surely he starts moving, hips setting a steady pace and with each thrust he feels jolts of pleasure coursing through his body

Fuck, why hasn’t he done this before?

It feels so fucking good, he thinks to himself but realizes he’d said out loud when you respond to him,

“Feels good yeah? Just like that pretty” you grunt out “make yourself cum on my cock”you say once again reading a line from the script and in that very moment Price remembers the two of you are actually doing a scene and not just fucking.

He’d allowed himself to get lost in pleasure but for whatever reason the director didn’t seem to mind it, if anything the director seemed to like it going by the big smile on his face as he watched Price practically bounce on your cock.

Price scours his brain for the lines he’s supposed to say, but all he can think about is how your cockhead is pressing onto the ball of nerves over and over again.

“Please please-“ he slurs out, eyes squeezing shut as blunt nails dig into your skin. Despite being lost in bliss he can’t help but notice how you’ve even got him begging, something he also hasn’t done before and if he wasn’t in the position that he was in, he’d actually laugh.

“Come on sweetheart, cum for me” you say, as if already knowing what he’s waiting for and before he knows of it, he’s tipping over the edge, buckets of sweat pouring down his spine, and ropes of cum spurting all over your abdomen.

As he slumps down next to you in the bed he can’t help but realize that you’d even made him cum without actually touching him.

Many firsts in one night, Price thinks to himself.

Needless to say there were many collabs after that and Price was more than happy to bottom in every single one.

#I wanted to write sm today but work sucked the soul out of me so I offer u this drafts so it’s not just me coming on here holding #Balkan talk hour 🏃🏻‍♂️#call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #bottom male character #x male reader #male reader

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inkskinned · 9 months

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it just sucks because nothing is ever fucking made for you, and if it is made for you like 75% of the time it gets chopped into little pieces by every person alive because this is the one thing you have, so it has to prove itself to you.

like, a thing can't just be for women. men need to assign it to women. women have to experience "must" or "should" before their hobbies and passions - women are allowed to do silly, passive things like tuck our ankles and titter behind a fan, or something. women are allowed to, they are welcomed to. like the world is a house and we are supposed to be in the kitchen and now we are being given the divine right to enter the living room if we bring chips

because when it becomes for you, or about you, that is when the thing is vile. you should/must wear makeup so you can appear beautiful to men. once you wear makeup for yourself, or because you yourself enjoy putting it on, then you are no longer doing the right thing. there is a reason men hate certain fashion trends. there is a reason men hate things like the pumpkin spice latte - because it's not about them. you are buying it because it is good for you. they degrade your passions and interests. there is a reason women-led fields are largely seen as being "not a real" profession. when you are a good cook, that is because you can provide for him. close your eyes. you're not going to be a chef, be honest. that is a man making food for himself.

bras are made so breasts will be appealing to men. they are rarely about comfort or support. you have given up entirely on the idea of pockets. young girls have to worry about a shorter inseam on their shorts. a girl on instagram gets her septum pierced, and men in the comments are rabid about it - i just want to rip it out of her face. she'd be beautiful without it.

and fucking everything is for them. even the media that is "for you" is for them, eventually. remember "my little pony"? remember how hard it is to convince any executive to believe that little girls are worth selling to? in the media that is for you, you see little ways that you still need to make it accessible for them - the man is always powerful, smart, masculine. he is a man's man. the media usually forgives him. it usually says okay, some men are awful, but hey! gotta love 'em. because if you don't hold their hands and say "this is literally just a story about my lived reality", they shit their pants about it. they demand you put them into the media that's for you.

these are people who are so used to glutting themselves on the world. they are used to having every corner and every dollar and every place of leadership. so you say can i please have one slice of cake, just for myself, please, holy shit. and they fucking weep about it. they say you're being unfair, because some of their one-thousand-slices aren't beautiful, and your singular cake slice doesn't have their name on it. and aren't you being rude by not offering to share?

and honestly. fucking - yeah, man. you were kind of surprised, because the cake is a little basic (you bake at home, you're way past this stuff). but holy shit, it was nice just to be offered cake in the first place. you're used to having to starve. you're used to getting nothing, but going to the party anyway, because you're expected (professionally) to show up. you liked that it is a simple cake, and that it is warm, and mostly: you like that there is, for once, a cake-for-you.

in the real world, outside of metaphor, it feels like fucking being slapped. barbie didn't even say anything particularly unusual; it literally just made factually evident points. there are less women in leadership than men. we can look at that fact objectively. that is a real thing that is happening. and the movie is aware that it has to defend itself! that it has to spend like half an hour just turning to the camera and saying: i know this is hard for you to understand, but this is a real thing that women experience.

it's just - this is that one kid on the playground who thinks its allowed to hog all the toys. he builds this hoard that nobody else is allowed to even look at, or he'll get aggressive. everyone's a little scared of him, so they let it slide, because his daddy gave him the golden touch. he hates when people cry and thinks bullying is cool. he writes boys only! on a big sign and makes all his friends take "alpha male" classes.

and then girls pick up barbies, because there was nothing left for them. and in the void they've been given, with their scraps: they make long, spiraling narratives about how barbie is actually descended from snakes and has given her righteous followers magical (if concerning) powers and can speak 32 languages (2 of which are animal related) and has big plans for infrastructure (beginning with the local interstate). and the boy comes over, and he has a huge fit about how the girls aren't "including" him. he wants to know why the girls aren't making the story about ken.

"we didn't like your story." the girls blink at him. they point to his war stories and the gi joes and the millions of male-led narratives and how still in the modern day men get two-thirds of the speaking roles in movies and they point to men making mediocre shows that don't get lambasted and they point to men encouraging toxic masculinity and they point to men everywhere, men and men and men. and they say: "how is this our fault? you had ken."

"no!" he is already back to screaming and stomping his feet and tearing at his hair and intentionally reminding them that men are holding back thinly concealed violence and he says: "if it's not for me, it's actually sexism."

#it's almost as if you spent your entire life fucking denying us things and then get mad when god forbid #we point out that you've been denying us something #writeblr #almost as if . u ACTUALLY think women dream of being in a male-run society #like dude mostly i dream about not having a tummy ache #love when ppl tell me that men have to deal with more rejection than women do #im like. just say u have never had a hard day in ur fucking life. if u think the most difficult experience is getting turned down at a bar #men: this one movie doesn't suck my entire -#women: yeah so i went to the doctor and was bleeding out of my eyeballs but like the doctor said #it was probably just my time of the month i guess?#anyway so i died there and had to be revived but they think i faked dying bc it was hysterics #so i took 3 advil and now im back at work i guess

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jhuzen · 8 months

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do you have any thirst hcs for grandpapi neuvi? if you do pls share i’m so hungry 🤲

hydro dragonussy [m.reader]

hello hello, guess who’s back to writing again? this is a warmup because i struggled hard in continuing my kaveh request wip and a buncha scenarios for sick reader w genshin men and jing yuan all at once. on second thought… i think i really shouldn’t have written everything all at once. not to mention i’m trying out quotev to publish my yandere oc/m.reader stuff for fun. + yes that is the title. it’s either that or crybaby old man dragon thirsts. you pick.

𖦹 nsfw, neuvi is a virgin old man, underlying mentions of reader being an attorney (we all know i have a bias for them anyway, have you seen my workload series? lmao), switch male reader, switch neuvi, though we’re heavily leaning on bottom neuvi for this one, honorable mentions of cockwarming and thigh fucking, brief mention of double penetration (reader receiving), gentle and rough sex, implied dacryphilia (you), breeding, fontaine rains whether or not he’s sad, his tears are the rain and i will drink them like a hungry eremite in the sumeru desert.

Let’s face it, Neuvillette has no time outside of his work as the Iudex of Fontaine, he’s constantly buried underneath those paperworks, and on top of that, when he’s not tackling mountains of cases, he’s out in the opera, presiding trial after trial when the Oratrice can already do the same thing for him.

So when you appeared in his life all of a sudden, he was new to all sorts of things. In his long life as a dragon, he has had little experience in what you can offer to him. He’s awkward for the first few moments of your relationship.

It’s the same to sex — you’d have to take initiative in every single little thing, show him the ropes like the good commander you are, and he obeys with no complaints. He sees that you enjoy it, and if you’re good at it and you’re willing to teach him, he is an obedient patient.

Old man’s heads are very clumsy at first, teeth scraping against your length while he slowly but surely bobbed his head. He’s slow, but he treats your little guy with so much care. Looking up at you with tears pricking at the ends of his eyes as he tried to please you as best as he could. Obligatory weather report — it’s a light drizzle in Fontaine.

But when you give him head, Neuvillette squirms, it doesn’t matter where he is, he could not keep himself still. It’s always obvious that even you cannot bring yourself to blow him semi-public in his office, just because you’re afraid a poor innocent little Melusine would come inside and see their beloved leader squirming around traumatize them. It would also be bad for his image if you guys get caught, so… sexy times are inside the comfort of his possibly huge home as much as possible.

Sex with him is slow and intimate, very romantic. What did you expect? He’s from Fontaine and they apparently love to romanticize things. Whether or not who’s on top when you guys are doing it, they are a lot more languid in style, like a moment of relaxation between the two of you.

A switch, though preferably a bottom. Yes, that’s right, old man Neuvillette likes to be serviced. He likes it when you’re the one filling him up so good. It’s hot and heavy, just the way he likes it.

He’s a tired man, so he’s definitely a pillow prince— no, a pillow king. He lays there and takes it like a good boy, only gazing at you with those soft eyes, hazy with love and lust while you continued to push into him. He takes your hand in his every time you enter him and he always squeezes your hand tight the deeper you go in.

Call him romantic and a basic man, but he lives for missionary. He wants to see you while he feels you stuff him full of your cock. He only writhes in the beginning while he tries to adjust around you, squeezing you tight inside him while his breath stutters, trying to take you in all at once.

If he’s the one in charge, it’s all the same, he’s gentle with his actions, though, honestly, he’d rather have you ride him instead. He likes to see you in all your glory, with you rolling your hips in such a needy manner while he kept you grounded, holding onto you as he caressed your thighs. It’s perfect for him.

Oh yeah, and this goes without saying — he’s a dragon, so he has two cocks. Fitting him in is a sport on its own, but you graduated with a major in fucking dragons, so you’re good. He’s a bit thicker on the side too, so each time you take him in, you could feel every inch of him, and every throb of his cocks is a heaven sent feeling that courses through your insides.

Please be gentle with him, he is an old tired man who hasn’t had a break. He is so vanilla that it’s boring but his cries are worth it.

He’s a very quiet man too, his moans are shy and light, a gasp here and there and a tiny whimper with every increment of speed adding into your thrusts.

Neuvillette is definitely the type to squirm and get away from you at first, but you just need to keep him still and hold him down by his thighs before you plow into him. He likes it though when you do it, it reassures him that you want to do this with him and that you’re not letting him go no matter what happens.

Another weather report: a good light rain. Not too heavy.

Now that all the sweet stuff is out of the way, rough sex is not as often as the usual vanilla one, but it’s not completely an uninvited guest between you two.

If you fucked him rough and hard, Neuvillette will cry and break. His poor pristine and unmarked body, filled to the brim with your greedy bite marks and hickeys, glowing red and bruising dark purple that leaves him embarrassed when they’re still around if you somehow managed to weasel in a rough session in the morning before he goes to work and you will be reprimanded for it once he’s home, no exceptions.

“No more of these obvious markings,” he’d say with a stern tone, only to end up face down on the pillow with his ass up while you found a loophole and devoured his entire back instead.

He hates that he can’t see you when you go rough on him, because it’s normally him ending up with his face buried into his pillow while he laid on his stomach, his hips being held up by you while you ruthlessly pounded into him without even an ounce of mercy.

He hates it, but at the same time, it does help with keeping his noise down because when you’re doing him so roughly, Neuvillette wails, he cries hard, with those pretty tears of his not letting up. He’d scream to the high heavens and were it not for the fact that your hand was forcing his head down into his soft pillow, the entirety of Fontaine would hear it.

Again, Neuvillette is a tired old man, so something so rough definitely leaves him drained, you’d constantly have to hold him up halfway through your little session.

Fucking him while he’s on his side and his one leg hooked over your shoulder is a great compromise, with how you can both still see each other Neuvillette can immediately turn his head to hide away into his pillow when he realizes he’s being a little too loud on his own good.

He’s definitely the kind to force himself to be quiet. If you fuck him without anything for him to bite into to hide his loud noises, he will cry and be embarrassed through out, barely even managing to cover his own mouth with his hand without an ounce of struggle while his body jerked up and down, following through every harsh punctuated thrust that you made into him. Weather report: Fontaine has a storm.

Neuvillette cries his heart out every time you go rough, full on sobbing and it is such a turn on. The way he makes garbled noises while he would protest into your roughness, hand gently pushing into yours while he asks for you to be gentler and go a little slower, only to cling helplessly into his pillow when his pleas fell into deaf ears.

His tears are just… divine. He cries so prettily and he does it with unwitting grace and class — somehow, he’s just innately beautiful in every thing that he does. There is no such thing as an unsightly sobbing to this man.

Neuvillette makes this soft noise in between a whimper and a gasp every time you hit his prostate spot on and he just shudders in delight, his breath shaky until he can barely think straight.

Gentle or rough, he’s definitely into breeding. Neuvillette has a breeding kink and anyone who thinks otherwise will sink deeper than Khaenri’ah. Stuff him full of your cum and he’s a happy and satisfied man.

It’s not just the feeling of your hot seed pumping him full that pleases him, but being around the Melusines, treating them like his children despite them being just his subordinates has definitely gotten this old man all too paternal. He likes the premise of being able to build a family with you, and he will nurture your children with all his being.

Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Though it’s rare, only when he’s really tired but still aches to please you, and even you’re too lazy to move a lot.

Bother him when he takes work at home by making him cockwarm you. He could not concentrate at all �� squirming and squeezing around your cock so deliciously while you teased him about getting his work done.

Has definitely tried wall sex with you, with his back against the wall while you held him up. May or may not have happened at the opera after a heated trial when he ruled against your client and you were pissed your streak of wins on that week crumbled into dust. It’s neither your fault but the client’s, but you’re a sore loser and Neuvillette is a stoic judge.

Call him daddy while you fuck into him and he will break, he’ll go slack, his mind numbed when a rush of dopamine just infiltrated his brain every time you’d call him that.

And after all that, aftercare is a must. Treat your dragon well. He did so much for you, and you broke his old man back after fucking him into oblivion. Clean him nice and well, kiss his tears away, and wrap him tightly in a blanket while you hold him.

#I AM #somewhat alive #i honestly planned on posting more works soon if i didn’t hit the classic ‘wow i suck’ moment #i have been doing nothing but scroll though yt shorts help 😭#also play genshin and hi3 because hsr has no content until 30 #jhuzen’s stupid hcs #jhuzen’s shameless filth #genshin impact x male reader #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub neuvillette #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette smut

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anachronistic-falsehood · 2 months

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leans into the mic. "saying all men are trash in response to the various ccs getting outed as abusers is the wrong move and will harm male victims of abuse and sa" and "the reason these male ccs were able to abuse people and cover it up for so long is because of rampant misogyny in the content creating space and it's important to listen to the women coming out with their stories right now" are statements that coexist. btw

#whiskey yelling into the void #i’ve just seen a lot of people saying shit like ‘men suck’ and ‘it’s always men’#as well as other people saying ‘this has nothing to do with misogyny!! it’s just a content creator issue not a gender issue!!’#but guess what. it is a misogyny issue. but also it’s not at the fault of all men #these statements are both true.#we can acknowledge the horrible misogyny in this community AND avoid villainizing men in general #you don’t have to put men down to lift women up #and you ALSO don’t need to lift your fav male creators up over the victims just bc ur afraid ur favourite white boy will get criticized

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bunnygirllover45 · 2 months

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CG work for vn project "Something Rots"

#yandere oc #yandere boy #male yandere #original character #yandere #original art #this is a shorter project #I work on it in my free time #bc dies irae is literally sucking the life out of me

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alextheominous · 5 months

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#shitpost #:3 #196 #r196 #r/196 #rule #ruleposting #/r/196 #alpha male posting #andrew tate can and will suck my balls

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running-with-kn1ves · 27 days

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cw: borderline nsfw, werewolf tings, tit sucking

Im thinking... sinfully perverted thoughts. Sucking on your werewolf boyfriend's big ol' tits. It started out simple-- he was just a moving pillow, chest so soft and pliable with a curved body that could practically envelop you with its warmth and softness.

When you laid on him at the end of each tough day, buried your face in between his pecks to avoid the sun's wrath in the morning, watching him stroll around with bedhead and no shirt as a tooth brush hangs from his mouth-- they all lead up to your depraved obsession. You joked with him at first, grabbing his chest from behind and using him as a stressball, saying you'd have to start buying bras for him to cover those D-cups. But a heavy makeout session can make you do things without a forethought.

Such as, leaving a trail of love bites below his collar bone, hickieing below his right nipple, latching on as if it was the most natural continuation. A slight "ah-" leaves his bitten lips. But you continue like nothing, letting him put a clawed hand against the back of your head, trying to pull you back to his lips. It was his fault for being fresh out the shower, shirtless and wet hair calling you to run your hands through. You had kissed your way up to his other peck before you were dragged into a mouth of sharp, throat-cutting teeth.

"Such a weirdo," he mumbled, massaging the hickie you left on his sensitive bud. But it wasn't long before you found you way back to the untouched left peck, straddling his waist after a dry hump session he initiated into you from below. It was only a few more weeks until rut season, you were treading dangerous waters getting him worked up like this with no release.

But like an addict you ran to his free nipple, ignoring the werewolf's desperate attempts to shimmy off his sweatpants. The once wet strands sticking to his forehead from the shower, now sheened with sweat. Tongue circling, small rubs just below his belly button, you were creating a mess of drool and embarrassment below you.

"Why you keep doin' that.. feels weird.." He gruffs, almost bucking into your palm when your hand reaches his upper thigh. "Can't you suck a little lower." He laughs with a short palming of his crotch, wishing the stiffness below his lazy cotton sweatpants was what you were obsessed with keeping your mouth on.

But your boyfriend realizes you won't let up, not when his tanned, enlargened chest muscle popped in your mouth like a sweet treat. Shiny eyes looking up at him with mischief, watching him pant with an open mouth and a wince everytime you pinched his free nipple. He might've not enjoyed it as much as you did, but the slowly inching fingers below grey fabric and his boxer-less hips was more than enough to make up for your teasing.

You relished in his groans, bulged biceps curling to grab a pillow to shove over his face. He practically bounced into your hand, squeaking when your teeth bit at his nipple, bite marks on the side of his breast. It was freeing, having the ability to pay him back for all the wolfy slobbering and harsh teeth sinking he did when the full moon rose. And you didn't feel bad one bit-- in fact, you should've taken up this tit obsession sooner.

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ilsanslut · 5 months

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you said male reader and I appear

boo

anyway, I’d love for your fave blue lock boys getting spanked by male reader

and I disappear now

꒷♡꒷ HIT ME, BABY!

♰ featuring: kaiser michael. shidou ryusei. [blue lock + separate]

♰ note: when i saw this pop up in my ask box i JUMPED into my desk chair with the most devious laugh ever LIKEE the joker could never. anyway, here are my baby boys getting their asses handed to them, as well as my first-ever male!reader work. (honestly i might make this into a lil series because i literally love too many blue lock characters-) enjoy!

sypnosis: naughty boys deserve to get spankings. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. masc/male-bodied!reader. dominant/top!reader. bratty bottoms. minor dub-con? (kaiser). forced masturabation (kaiser). spanking. one cock-stepping moment (shidou). masochism (shidou). ryusei has daddy issues. one-time usage of the word ‘daddy’ (shidou). hair-pulling. cursing. degradation. punishments w/ no actual penetration. ꒷꒦

MICHAEL KAISER.

There were numerous things that irritated you about your teammate Kaiser: his superiority complex, the way he talked down to others who he saw as inferior, his inhuman skill that rivaled some of our generation's greatest, and his ridiculously good looks. But you had no idea how you of all people had become his number one target on his shitlist. It began cordially enough—or as cordial as you could be when dealing with Kaiser—but things quickly devolved into vile territory. He would annoy you to no end, from bumping into you in the hallway to stealing your towels as you were getting out of the shower, to making patronizing comments about you during practice, and even enabling his lapdog Ness to steal the ball from you during what should have been obvious goals at your games.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, so you knew he was taking extra time in the shower to get rid of the hard work he had done today to make your life as miserable as possible. You headed for the showers, which were nearly empty, but for one in the middle, front and center, fit for an emperor, with the curtain closed and the water running. You heard the faintest tune hummed in German from behind the curtain, and, without warning, you fisted the curtain in your hand and snatched it open. Panic overcame Kaiser's handsome face as he saw you, his eyes widening in response to being leered at in his most vulnerable state. There was a fleeting look of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smug glare and a pinch of his eyebrows.

“R-Really, Y/N?” Even with the sneer in his tone, you could tell it was merely a ploy to cover up the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t take you for the perverted type who—”

You did not even wait for him to finish before stepping into the shower yourself, unconcerned about getting soaked while still fully clothed, and snatching the curtain closed behind you. Seeing the look of a silent fury twisting your features, Kaiser’s expression dropped. However, before he could attempt to make a break to safety, you were shoving him against the ceramic walls cheek-first while your body and sheer mass pinned him there from behind. He grunted, struggling against your overwhelming strength as your forearm pinned itself across his shoulder blades, firmly pinning him there.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of m—”

You silenced him with a sharp swat to his, surprisingly, bubbly ass, the sound of the hit echoing off the walls around you two, and effectively quarreling whatever rebuttal he was about to spew your way.

“I’ve had enough of your shit, Kaiser.” You snarled, emphasizing your words with two well-placed smacks on both of his ass cheeks, making him yelp with each one. You held him taut, fisting the back of his dyed hair and pulling his head back until his ear was right next to your lips. Even then, you could see the faintest trace of horror and what looked like yearning in his wide, blue eyes. For what? You didn’t know, nor did you care, right now.

“You berate me on the field—”

SMACK.

“Thrownin’ off my obvious fuckin’ goals—”

SMACK.

“And stick your dumb little lapmutt onto me, just because you know you can’t devour me on your own—!”

SMACK. SMACK

Kaiser’s teeth were gritted as he tried to hold back his sharp grunts and ill-timed moans, but no sound could be hidden from your ears within the confines of the echoing chamber. You gave him the briefest moments of reprieve, groping his abused cheeks in your large palm as your hand shook with poorly contained malice. Your hand that was in his hair jerked his head back more, pulling him slightly off of the wall so that you could peer over his shoulder, only to confirm your suspicions that yes, Kaiser was hard, and yes he was getting off to this.

“Dirty bitch,” You snarled in his ear amidst your amused chuckle. “Are you really getting off to this? Getting your pretty lil’ cock hard over being spanked like a disobedient slut you are in the showers, huh?”

“O-Oh, fuck you, Y/N. I am not—AH~!”

Kaiser let out a high-pitched, sultry squeal as you gave him another well-earned smack on his ass, feeling the pleasure shoot through his veins and making his cock jump. His face was flushing red, just like his posterior, and it was not from the heat from the shower.

“Yeah?” You breathed haughtily in his ear. “Go on then, jerk your cock for me, baby. I know a desperate thing like you is just aching to cum all over these walls, aren’t you?”

His fists balled at his sides as his teeth gritted against one another, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting you have your way. You merely clicked your tongue at his behavior, releasing his grip on his hair to instead wrap your large palm around his throbbing shaft and pump him yourself instead.

Grasping at your shorts with one fist to maintain balance, he choked on his own groans, his knees weakening as his body shook against your powerful one. He twisted around in your grip, trying to struggle free from your sneaky fingers, but it was no use.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking, ngh! S-Stop that!” He spat half-heartedly, despite the fact that his hips were practically fucking themselves into your deft digits.

You didn’t respond to him verbally, instead giving him another smack on the ass, just to witness his hips jolt and his cock twitch in your palm, drawing a sadistic cackle from your lips.

“What kind of whore gets off on being spanked, huh? You some kind of masochist of somethin’, Micha’?”

He didn’t reply—he couldn’t reply. His vision blurred and his mind went numb from the pleasure of having his rival fist his cock and dominate him completely when he was at his most vulnerable. He looked so pretty like this, with his hues rolled behind his half-lidded lids, his jaw dropped and gaping to release a steady string of moans, a line of drool pooling from his lips while his cheeks flushed a deep red from the humiliation of it all—he was perfect.

His groans grew shrill, and, before you knew it, he was utilizing your body as a rock to stay upright while his legs trembled under him. In an instant, hot, thick ropes of sticky cum spewed from his throbbing shaft and over himself and the shower walls. His body convulsed in your hand as a barrage of obscenities and things you could not make out in German fell from his lips. You laughed at him, cackled at his humiliation, the exact same way he would do to you when he would knock you down.

You didn’t stop there. You continued to pump his cock until he was well into overstimulation and fighting to escape your grasp. He eventually triumphed over you with a forceful shove, sending you reeling a few paces behind him as his weakness caused him to fall to the ground. There on his knees, he gazed up at you, his lips parted and panting, his semi-hard cock twitching languidly against his thigh, his pupils blown wide. He was a beautiful wreck, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah, nah.” You huffed, observing how his unfocused eyes suddenly widened and his lips drew in a sharp gasp as he watched you reach into your shorts with a near-feral grin on your face.

“I’m not finished with you, yet.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

You know what happens when you feed a gremlin after midnight? That was Ryusei, except every day and 24/7. So much so that he was frequently a well-deserved victim of Blue Lock’s “Anti-Riot” electric shock. Today was one of those instances where, once again, Ryusei and Rin couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the field, leading to the two getting into a physical altercation initiated by the former. This time, they both were electrocuted, but instead of having additional staff handle Ryusei, you effortlessly scooped the male up and over your shoulder, walking off of the practice field with him. No one else on PXG dared to question it, not even Julian Loki, who just watched on with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

You made your way to the locker room, kicking the door open with your foot before setting Ryusei’s semi-conscious and lethargic form down on one of the benches against a set of lockers. Picking up a stray water bottle, you aimed the nozzle at your boyfriend before squeezing mercilessly, allowing a continuous spray of water to pelt against the blonde’s face. He gasped and spluttered as he awoke with a start, using his coughs to try and resist your water assault.

“Y/N?! W-What the hell is your problem? Cut that shit out!” He all but snarled at you, spitting some of the water out of his mouth.

Releasing your grip on the bottle, you stared at him impassively, thoroughly unamused by both his behavior and his language. Using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, Ryusei took a moment to get his bearings and realized that the two of you were in the locker room and not on the field.

“. . . What happe—”

“You know exactly what the fuck happened, Ryusei.” Your sharp tone cut him off, your eyes narrowing on his now-widened fuschia ones. He looked a bit taken aback by your tone, but as he took in your demeanor and the way you were sitting with your elbows on your knees while glowering at him through your lashes, he understood that you were pissed at him.

“We talked about this, Ryu. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you get, you can’t just start swinging on your teammates whenever they annoy you!” You berated him, standing up now as you threaded your hands through your hair in exasperation.

All the while, your boyfriend sat there, scratching at his ear with his pinky and blowing off the excess nonchalantly as though you were boring him.

“Jeez, this is why you brought me here? You’re starting to sound like my old man.”

You paused, hands dropping by your sides as you felt a vein pulsating just above your eyebrow.

Is he serious right now?

Ryusei stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and assuming his usual slouching stance. His lips were pulled into a frown, and his expression was uninterested, as if he couldn’t care less about what you were saying right now.

Taking a step closer to you, he would say, “Y’know, lecturing me isn’t going to do either of us any good, babe. I’m going to continue to do my own thing, and you’re going to continue doing yours. There is no need to waste any of our breaths.” A sly, joker-like grin formed on his face, a hand leaving his pocket to rise to your face, rudely flicking a strand of hair above your eye, “Kapeesh?”

You were silent, fists balled by your sides, as you resisted the urge to strangle the forward where he stood. Taking your silence as compliance, Ryusei rolled his eyes and began to stroll out of the locker room, done with the conversation. That is, if you had not prevented his departure by lunging your fist forward and balling up the back of his shirt from behind. On instinct, the blonde whipped around with the intention of landing one of his infamous kicks on the side of your head, which you easily countered by grabbing the front of his shirt in one hand and his face in the other and slammed him down onto the floor.

Like a hyena trapped in a poacher's net, he struggled fiercely beneath you, hissing, spitting, biting, and snarling at you. But you persisted in your silence, pressing harder with your hand on his jaw until you were forcefully smushing his cheek against the ground, forcing him to finally submit under your brute strength. The two of you lay there for a while, Ryusei panting heavily beneath you and you glowering him down with every inch of your being, before it was you who broke the silence.

“I’m sick of your shit, Ryusei.” For emphasis, you pressed down harder on his face, relishing in the whimper that emitted from his lips while you did so. “Talking about how I ‘sound like your old man’, well, maybe I should act like him and knock some fuckin’ sense into you, huh?”

Ryusei’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, full of indignation and trepidation, but you were unyielding.

“ . . . Do it, pus—”

You didn’t hesitate to give him a quick pop on the mouth to shut him up, much to his astonishment. Before he could react, you captured fistfuls of his spiked locks in your hand, dragging him over to the benches until you could sit down and lug your 185cm boyfriend over your muscular thighs. As the reality of the situation began to settle in on him, he immediately began to struggle as a slew of curses spat from his scowling brims. However, you quickly subdued him by pinning the wrist that was farthest from you behind his back and your own leg over the back of his calves, preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Y-Y/N, you can’t be serious!”

And you were. Without a word to him, your dominant hand rose into the air before delivering a swift swat to his rear. You didn’t hold back either, knowing that with his blue lock body suit and practice uniform on, the blow was well-cushioned. Ryusei lurched on your lap, his free hand dragging his blunt nails against the bench with a startled cry. His jaw clenched, extending his free arm as far as it could go before bringing it back unforgivingly to jab it into your side.

“Let me go, you fucking sadistic bastard!”

Sadistic, huh? You seized the top of his shorts and the bottom of his bodysuit in one swift motion, yanking them down his toned thighs to expose his equally caramlized cheeks. You struck his cheeks with a series of enraged blows, striking each one with a hard spank from your thick, callused hands. In an instant, his ass was turning a vivid red, and instead of attempting to resist you, he was concentrating on preparing for each of your relentless blows. However, your pace was unpredictable. Some swats were fast and in rapid succession of the latter, while others were slow and calculated, almost as though you were trying to soothe the skin in between hits. It was abundantly evident that you were trying to teach him a lesson and venting your anger toward him. Aside from the occasional grunt or whimper from your now-silent boyfriend, this was the quietest you had heard him all week.

You gave your boyfriend a moment of respite, making sure he had not fainted on your lap. You massaged his sore ass in your palm while releasing his limp arm to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look him in the eye.

Ryusei's normally keen eyes were now unfocused and brimming with tears, rolling into the back of his head; his cheeks were flushed a fierce red, smeared with the few tears that had escaped his eyes; and his pink lips were parted, gasping as strands of crystalline drool pooled over his bottom lip.

You had ruined him.

“Oh, Ryusei. . .” You cooed mockingly, bringing both of your hands to his face to cup his cheeks gently. As you gently shook his face back and forth to get him to focus on you, he sank to his knees between your thighs. “C’mon, pretty boy. Stay w’me.”

It took a moment, but you could finally see the life resorting in his fuschia hues, just as you felt something sticky on your calf. Glancing past the ruined face of your boyfriend, you discovered that his slender cock was hard and pulsating, its red tip drooling with pre as it adhered to your leg and soaked a tiny puddle in the material of your bodysuit. Poor mutt. He had been so turned on by this that he nearly came right into your lap, and you hadn’t even realized it.

Then it hit you. That’s why he had gone quiet—not because he was focusing on prepping himself for your swats, but because he was focusing on trying not to cum.

“Aren’t you just pathetic, Ryu? Nuthin’ more than a dumb painslut who only thinks about fighting and getting a nut off.”

His brows furrowed from your degrading words, but he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped against your calf from having you be so, so mean to him.

“You wanna get off? Wanna cum all over your pretty self, hm?”

He gave a desperate nod, babbling out whatever few unintelligible words his stupid mind could manage, but they seemed to be in needy plea to cum. With a maniacal smile on your face, you violently wrenched your partner away from you while he looked up at you with those wide, desire-filled eyes.

“Y-Yes, fuck. Y/N please. .”

You silently moved your leg between his knees, pressing the top of your cleats against his balls, observing as he practically doubled-over your leg with a high-pitched whine, his cheek pressed against your knee as his arms wrapped around your calf. Already, his thighs were quivering around your foot as he tried not to cum right then and there from the stimulation.

“Fuck yourself on my shoe, Ryusei.” You demanded, watching as he gawked at you incredulously, but your expression was unchanging. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” You quipped, folding your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded desperately once more. “Then hump my leg like the dirty mutt you are.”

With a muffled groan, he did as you demanded of him, albeit with a slight bit of hesitation. He made sure he was situated well enough, the underside of his cock pressed up against your laces as he gave a few testing thrusts of his hips, each one brushing against your shin every time. He gradually increased his speed before descending into complete degeneracy. Desperate to chase his release that had been building over time, he was fucking himself against your leg while huffing, panting, grunting, and groaning. Your partner, possessed by his untamed desire, was drooling over your thigh while you watched from above. Your own cock twitched in your shorts as you admired the already fucked-out and near pornographic expression on his face.

Aiding the little masochist further, you leaned over him to place yet another swat against his reddened ass, causing a cry of pleasure and pain to emit from his lips and his hips to sputter against you.

“You like being spanked like this, don’t you, painslut?” You growled into his ear, causing a high-pitched whine to sound from his drooling brims.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Hit me more! Ngh, p-please, Daddy!”

You hissed, your cock straining against the tight confines of the bodysuit you were trapped in, but you did not touch yourself just yet. This was about Ryusei, not you, after all.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess over Daddy’s leg? Gonna cum all over his cleats? Hm, baby?”

“Hah, sh-shit! Yes, yes, yes! I-I’m gonna—mm’fuck~! C-Cum!”

A sadistic grin arose on your features, swatting another well-placed smack on his ass before leaning back on the bench, glowering down at Ryusei from over your nose. His fucked-out gaze could barely meet your own as the movement of his hips grew sloppy and his thighs quivered around your leg from the way you looked at him. He huffed, panting and drooling against your thigh as a slew of curses escaped his lips—he was close.

However, before he could enjoy the sweet, sweet euphoria of finally reaching his high, your hand threaded itself into his locks, peeled him off of you, and pushed him back into an opposing bench behind him. Ryusei gawked at you, utterly dumbfounded, as he slouched back against the bench, processing what had just happened. His cock, which was an angry red and throbbing, twitched against his thigh, thoroughly messy with pre. It took a moment, but his surprise soon gave way to frustration, and his face twisted with rage. Did you really just deny him?

“Y-Y/N, what the fu—”

“—Did you seriously think that you deserved to cum after the shit you pulled both on the field and in here, huh, Ryusei? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot that this was a punishment, babe.”

At your faux pout and mocking tone, he went silent, his face burning with indignation as his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. His eyes, despite being clouded by desire, had the faintest hints of vexation and desperation in them, which you picked up on. You rose to your feet, laughing at Ryusei's angrily pleading gaze, still desperate for his release but enraged that you refused to give it to him.

You bent over at the waist, grabbing his jaw in your palm, forcing your heated gazes to meet.

“Clean yourself up and get your ass back on that field, Ryu—and don’t you dare touch yourself, got it?”

Ryusei did not say anything in response; he just stared at you with that same disgruntled expression on his pretty face. Before long, he nodded, albeit not without the faintest of pouts appearing on his lips as he did so. You leaned in and gave his disheveled brims a quick peck before straightening up once more.

“Good. Now, hurry up,” You ordered as you began to make your way out of the locker room, however, not without casting a salacious stare over your shoulder in his direction. He was watching you go with his fists balled at his sides, his eyes begging for you to come back and let you finish. You didn’t.

“Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Ryu. I’m dealing with you once practice is over.”

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