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#the struggle i went through drawing Him
tono3459 · 1 year
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niko bellic 🌉
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keii · 1 year
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Small Yoosung progression over the years… wow LOL
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incognit0slut · 14 days
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Just the sloppiest head ever, that’s it. Choking, gagging, etc
Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.
Warnings: (18+) soft dom spence x inexperienced fem reader. Oral sex (male receiving while he talks you through it?), female masturbation because reader can’t help herself lol. 1.8k words a/n: this is very much self-indulgent because I need him so bad. Ty anon for requesting
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"No."
You pulled away from him, shifting your weight on his lap as you peered down at him, a furrow forming on your brow. "No?"
He gently shook his head, his hands tracing up your thighs. "You're not ready yet."
You leaned back, creating some space between you, though it wasn't much given the way you were straddling him. "Wait a minute," you protested. "Since when do you get to decide if I'm ready or not? And why aren't you into it when most guys would be jumping at the chance?"
A faint smile danced on his lips. "I thought I’m the first guy you've ever been with."
"That's not the point!"
He laughed, his hands finding a firm grip on your waist. "It's not that I don’t enjoy the idea..."
"Then what's holding you back?"
He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "Because I care about you," he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "And I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed for anything we do together."
"That's what I've been trying to say," you replied. "I don't feel pressured. I want to."
He studied you, and when the silence went on, you knew you had to do something to reassure him. With a gentle sigh, you shifted closer, nestling against him, and allowed your lips to graze the sensitive curve of his neck. It was a spot you knew well, one that never failed to draw out a reaction from him. You felt the subtle hitch in his breath and smiled.
"You already went down on me yesterday and I really, really liked it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing further down. "Let me do the same for you."
Feeling the warmth of your breath against his skin, he let out a soft sigh, his resolve weakening.
"I..." he began, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words.
You lifted your head to meet his gaze. "Trust me," you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. "Let me show you how much I want this."
His eyelids drooped slightly as your hands moved down. When you paused, fingers poised right above the evident bulge in his pants, you realized you had him right where you wanted him to be.
"Come on, Spencer," you whispered, gripping him over the material of his pants, working your hand up and down his thickness. "Let me suck your cock."
He sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist as he met your gaze. What kind of man would he be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? With a low groan, he finally gave in, his resolve crumbling as he nodded in silent agreement. 
"Okay," he breathed out, his voice heavy with need. "Okay, just... only if you're sure."
With a reassuring smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm sure," you whispered against his skin.
As if a switch had been flipped, you felt the tension in him dissipate entirely. His touch on your waist was firm, sending a shiver down your spine, and the look in his eyes had you already feeling a flush of heat between your legs.
"Get on your knees."
Your breath caught in your throat at his tone, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer dominance in his demeanor. Without hesitation, you obeyed, slipping off the couch and sinking to your knees before him. The intensity of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he reached for his belt.
As he undid his belt, the anticipation between you intensified, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your pulse quickened as your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, every inch of him, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock.
Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, your fingers trailing lightly over his length, feeling the heat emanating from him. "I..." you started, your voice wavering slightly. "I might be bad at this."
His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Do you want me to talk you through it?"
Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. "Yes, please," you replied. "I want to make this good for you."
A soft smile tugged at his lips. "You already make it good just by being here," he murmured. "But I'll guide you, okay?"
His words melted away your nerves. "Okay," you whispered. "What do I do first?"
"Start with gentle kisses," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Explore the tip with your lips."
Following his guidance, you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, feeling the tension in him building with each tender touch. You focused on every sensation, savoring the moment as you allowed yourself to immerse in the way he pulsed underneath your touch.
"Good," he murmured, his breath hitching as he looked down at the way you were gripping his cock, your mouth exploring every inch of him. "Now, use your tongue. Start with light strokes."
Encouraged by his words, you followed his guidance. With gentle strokes, you explored the sensitive skin with your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine. 
His reaction spurred you on as you increased the pressure of your strokes. His hands found their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held you close. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Just like that."
A sense of power washed over you as you continued to tease him with your tongue, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath you. You marveled at the effect you had on him, and with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you licked him from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.
His reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out. "Do you think you can handle more?"
Your heart raced at the question, excitement coursing through your veins. "Yes," you replied.  "Please."
He guided your lips over to his tip. "Now take me in your mouth."
You leaned in, allowing him to slide into your parted lips. The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of him filling your senses as you eagerly accepted him into your mouth. His hands gently guided you, encouraging you to find a rhythm that worked for both of you and before you knew it, your head was bopping up and down his length.
With your hand already gripping him, you began pumping up and down as you sucked him, eliciting deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. "God, your mouth feels so good," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Look up at me."
Obeying his command, you lifted your gaze to meet his, locking eyes with him. He looked down at you with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, your cheeks flushed, and lips stretched wide around his girth. Driven by the desire to give him more pleasure, you sank your mouth further, keeping your eyes locked on his as his tip hit the back of your throat. 
The sensation made you gag, your throat burning with the effort, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. But you pushed through before finally pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from your lips as you gasped for air, and despite the discomfort, the look of satisfaction on his face made it all worth it.
His head fell back against the couch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I don't think I can last much longer," he admitted, his voice strained.
Feeling a surge of pride at the effect you had on him, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his cock again, "Then let go. I want to taste you."
"Yeah?" he breathed, looking down at you. "You'd let me come in your mouth?"
Your tongue flickered over his tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. "I think I'd let you do anything to me by now."
He let out a sound of pleasure, and without hesitation, you took him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises as you took as much of him down your throat.
With each throb of him in your mouth and every intoxicating sound he made, the ache between your thighs intensified until it became unbearable. Unable to resist any longer, you let your free hand slide between your thighs, slipping underneath your skirt.
Surprised at how wet your panties were, you wasted no time in spreading your arousal everywhere, your fingers finding your clit with ease. You spread your legs further on the floor, arching your back as you pleasured yourself, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of your mouth along his cock.
Spencer's breath hitched as he noticed your dainty hand between your legs, the sight of you touching yourself while eagerly sucking and bobbing your head up and down his length sending him to the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer. 
He tightened his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washed over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he emptied himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallowed the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.
It didn't take long for you to feel the familiar coil of pleasure building within you. With his release still fresh on your tongue, you shifted your focus to your own pleasure, your fingers picking up the pace as you sought your own climax. And then, with a sharp gasp, you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you.
You finally released him when your orgasm subsided, slumping over his lap. He was quick to bring you up on the couch, a tender smile on his lips as he looked down at you. "Did you make yourself come?"
Feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks, you nodded breathlessly, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah..."
His smile softened further, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured you. But before you could respond, you felt his other hand slipping inside your skirt, tugging down your panties.
Your eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"
"I think it's only fair," he replied as he pulled your panties down your legs. Then, to your surprise, he got to his knees, positioning himself between your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. "I want to taste you too."
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
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Fever
Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.
Word count: 3k
A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.
The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.
"You can't possibly be cold."
Astarion.
Great.
You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.
"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."
Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.
He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."
Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."
Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.
"So what? Drink a healing potion."
You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.
Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.
"You don't have any."
Silence.
"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.
Another shiver. 
This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.
He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"
You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.
"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"
You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."
He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.
"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."
How could you forget?
And he was right… to an extent.
You chose silence.
It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.
"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"
"Soon. I hope."
He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."
Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent. 
A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.
Fuck.
You winced.
"Where are my healing potions?"
Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.
Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"
You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."
He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us –  the collective good!"
You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"
"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”
A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”
He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.
There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.
But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.
After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.
“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.
You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.
“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”
You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.
“Sorry for the potions.”
He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”
You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people. 
And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.
It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.
The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.
Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”
He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”
Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.
Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?
“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”
Your eyes widened.
Oh?
He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”
Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.
So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.
A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze. 
“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.
He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours. 
You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.
But you also felt ill. 
And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his. 
“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.
His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.
As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.
The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.
A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.
The tadpole.
It was trying to connect with his.
It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.
But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.
Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.
You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.
Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.
“I've got you.”
His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.
Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.
More time passed.
More silence.
More comfort.
And the worm squirmed again.
You promptly ignored it.
Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.
Another tug and you frowned.
What was happening?
The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.
As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.
You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.
His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.
Not now. Not now. Gods.
His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.
He sounded desperate.
And he felt… hard.
Positively aroused.
Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.
That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.
You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.
Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?
Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.
Astarion… what are you doing?
He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.
Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.
You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.
His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.
The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.
Maybe we should pull away.
He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.
You're still quite warm, darling.
Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.
Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.
Inside your mind.
It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.
The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.
You can feel it, can't you?
He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.
You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.
Now you had your answer.
And it felt almost… urgent.
I never felt this before…
His cock twitched and you felt all of it.
I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.
Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.
As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.
Oh, I can feel it swelling up…
You clenched.
It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.
The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.
It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.
Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.
Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.
Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.
His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.
We can just stay like this… for a while.
He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.
You can focus on both, sweetheart. 
You clenched again.
His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.
Gods… this hurts… 
It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.
You could feel how soaked he was getting.
Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?
Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure. 
How are you getting harder?
This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.
Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.
Would you clench harder if I bit you?
You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.
Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?
He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.
Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?
Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.
But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.
Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.
Please…
Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.
With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.
No.
You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.
The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.
He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.
You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.
With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.
The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.
Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.
Darling, you feel so tight.
His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.
He was close.
He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.
I can feel your clit. You're close, too.
You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.
Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.
Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.
The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was 
I need to be inside you.
It wasn’t a request.
He was begging.
But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.
Astarion. Someone is coming….
He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.
You tasted metal on your tongue.
I'm close… 
And so were you.
It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.
It was overwhelming.
Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.
You just wanted his cock to find release.
And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.
He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.
It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.
The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.
It was an effective way to muffle his moans.
Clench again… 
Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.
By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.
Quick…
He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.
“Gods!” you almost yelled.
Astarion grunted in between gasps.
Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.
His pleasure was your own.
Literally.
Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.
You're almost there…
His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.
So much cum… 
Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.
And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls. 
“Gods… this–”
Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.
You felt the contractions.
You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.
But your pleasure was his.
You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.
Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.
Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.
Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.
“That was…”
Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”
He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.
“Unexpected, I reckon.”
From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.
“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”
“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.
A pause.
“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.” 
You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.
“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.
You shook your head.
“Are you still upset about the potions?”
He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”
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Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
essenteez · 5 months
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𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 choi san 18+
"if i'm the bad wolf, you have to the moon. cause no one makes me howl the way your body does."
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"The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning."
☾ synopsis : ever since your boyfriend has gotten his new tattoo - beautiful moon phases climbing up his spine - you always fail to keep your composure when looking at it. it draws you to touch it, drag your fingers, nails, tongue... however, the worst mistake you made was letting san see your poor self-control. now, he makes sure to always use his new card in this game of "who gives up first."
☾ pairing : san x f!reader
☾ genre : smut, one-shot
☾ warnings : explicit language, teasing, ass slapping, unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, commands, dick riding, big size, f! struggles to take it, mirror sex, back scratches, missionary, rough sex, penetration, breeding.
☾ words : 4k
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NOTE : When I saw his back and the tattoo during mama performance, trust me, the sounds I made were inhuman. I will never recover from this. The power he bias wrecked me that moment should be studied :,) this piece is my ode to this tattoo
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You failed yet again.
The temptation painted your sight in red while your willpower was at its lowest. In crushing defeat; saying goodnight to your dignity, you reached out your hand and dragged your finger down your boyfriend's naked spine.
You gulped quietly at San’s defined back muscles, now tensing under the touch of your sharp acrylic nail.
You began tracking the lines of his new tattoo. The moon cycle. Nine separate arts spread from his neck down to his slim waist. The work was beautifully done, impressive, and constantly begging you to touch it.
“You're really a fan of my latest whim.” He purred leisurely, stretching like a cat on the bed.
“Whim?” You chuckled. “You planned this tattoo for months.”
San looked so relaxed, laying on his belly as if he was waiting for a massage service. But you had a better idea.
The book you initially wanted to read was finally tossed aside. Positive reviews really made you curious. The plan for this evening was to indulge in the literature and find out if the recommendations were not bullshit.
But then your boyfriend decided to visit you in the late hours just to take off his shirt and spread his whole body on your bed. Apparently, he was tired after dance practice, so he quickly took a shower and went straight to your apartment.
Yeah, right. You had known him for years, and you knew how tired San looked like. The San that was now laying beside you had a lot of energy to spend. And there was no dance practice on Fridays.
“Not true! At first, it was supposed to be drawn only for the awards, you know, part of the lore? But I really liked how it looked. And the decision to make it real was sudden!"
“Fine.” You smiled at his cute indignation. “I'm happy that it's real, actually.”
“Why is that?”
His head rested on his hands, facing away from the spot where you sat. You used that opportunity of being out of his sight and of his guard being down.
The wickest giggle escaped your chords, “Cause now I can do this.”
You leaned over his lower back, right beyond the first tattoo of waning crescent moon. He twitched at the touch of your tongue, shamelessly climbing up his bare spine.
“Fuuuck, baby.” He whined somewhat relieved, as if he waited for that exact move of yours.
Not caring that you probably danced to his tune, you were now making your way back down with slow and juicy kisses. San’s whole body began waving at the tingling sensation. His body temperature rose rapidly. You could feel it through the thin skin of your lips.
Every single tattoo had its lines carefully traced with your tongue and then adorned with an invisible mark of your mouth. San was yours, all yours to enjoy.
Your boyfriend loved it with every fiber of his body. You could tell by the way he subconsciously hummed the melody of pure bliss. You could see it by how his sun kissed skin covered with goosebumps and how his body rose and fell from deeper and faster breathing.
You repeated the route a few times before reaching for his neck to bury your face in it. Inhaling his intoxicating smell; a mixture of soap, shampoo, and pheromones, you caused your own mind to spin.
Touching, kissing, and smelling that man was enough to make the muscles around your entrance grow tighter. You felt yourself getting incredibly wet.
“Baby…” He gasped when your teeth softly grabbed his earlobe.
His desperate pleas made you inhale sharply. You would have given him the heads of his enemies just to hear him whimper like that again.
“Hmm?”
“Promise you won't leave me grinding my dick onto your sheets like that.” Oh, his needy whines were truly to die for.
Your eyes wandered down his glistening spine right onto his shaply bottom. Slight circling movements of his hips made the cockiest smile crawl onto your mouth.
“So impatient.” You hummed.
His plump asscheeks had your head in the whirl. You needed that ass moving like that between your legs. Your cunt cried sweet tears when your head filled with the vision of San using his trained pelvis to thrust his way inside you.
You groaned in his ear, pleased at the sound that his sin worthy cheek made at the abrupt contact with your hand.
“You little shhhhit.” He hissed in full arousal at the sudden surprise and now the prickling skin.
“Oh apologies, my moon prince.” You pouted with fake guilt. To ease his abused ass, you grabbed a handful of his flesh and gave it a proper massage.
Using this opportunity, you pushed him more and more against the mattress, and you went back to teasing his neck, ear, and temple.
“Moon prin…ah fuuck.” He had no chance to ask you to elaborate on his new nickname. The new, deepened friction between his hardening cock and your satin sheets sent electric waves up his body. It reached all his nerves, which woke up just to act stupid from all the delightful stimulations.
San shifted his head to your side. The pillow traces on his cheek made you want to kiss it. But you focused on his hazy eyes and parted lips, drying up from needness.
“You're cruel, you know?” He whispered.
You laid down next to him, face to face. Obsessed, your hand never let go of his ass, groping and squeezing the plum. You stopped pushing his pelvis down. However, San kept grinding, now deeper and more aggressive.
“Look who's talking.” You teasingly licked his lips. “I had plans for this evening but you stormed into my room, exposing your beautiful chest, broad shoulders and slutty waist while wearing these black thin shorts.”
His smirk said it all.
“You're well aware that the outlines of your thighs are enough to make me drip, yet here you are.” You scoffed in frustration. ”And now that damn tattoo…”
San shifted to lay on the side, chest against chest with you. You were pulled closer to him by having your waist embraced by his strong arm, the other slid under your head to stop you from leaving.
You had no chance to react when your night dress got pulled up your hips. In a brutal way, your thong got ripped off you. There was not a chance to say anything since he immediately pushed his knee between your rubbing thighs.
“You're right.” He chuckled, feeding on your loud gasps. “I just love to see you struggle to contain yourself around me.”
San didn't have to do anything to have you grind on his thigh. You craved his touch, from the softest to cruelest, all over and inside your body
“San, ah.” You whimpered into his lips as you felt him purposely tensing up his muscles underneath you. The enhanced lines rubbed against you, making every cell in your body vibrate.
You put your hands flat on his chest. His heart beat so fast, chasing the pace of your pulse resonating in your head. No language could ever explain how much you needed him. Only your eyes could show him. Only your heat, wetness could make him feel it, and you were absolutely soaked, so much you heard squelched noises getting louder with every grind. Your shame was gone. All that mattered was a release granted to you by this beautiful man.
Your lips were brushing, noses rubbing, you breathed each other's air. The teasing, who gives up first and kisses the other, built up the tension to the point it was palpable. But the need to indulge in your taste made San lose the duel.
At first, he gently bit on your lower lip as if it was a fruit, and he wanted to see if it was ripe enough to be fully devoured.
“Pure sweetness.” He murmured with a low tone.
The moment your lips interlocked, San became braver with his actions. He stroked his hardness against your soft womb but it was your taste, scent, your closeness, the way your eyes shone and your pussy called for him that brought him to the edge of losing control. He swallowed your moans and let go only when you couldn't catch a breath from the crushing bliss.
“You're so loveable, (y/n).” He spoke as much as his own problems with breathing allowed him to. He was so hard it almost hurt, and you were so… “So touchable, irresistible. And so damn fuckable.”
“San-” You were close. His arm around your waist tightened, resulting in him fully controlling the speed of your movements.
“You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?” He growled into your lips. “I also planned this evening, you know. To pump you full, to the brim. To sit you down on my cock and watch you struggle to take it. I need that tattoo scratched with your nails. You hear me?”
The ecstasy chased you, but it was his words that tipped the scale. The fog covered your sight, and the sensation made your head fall back.
“Let's prepare you for the ride, shall we?”
San made a space between your drained folds and his wet, sticky thigh, and he slid his hand. His two digits found your entrance without a problem. Feeling them entering you, switching from stimulating your clit to pushing your sweet spot, you were done.
“Oh fuck, fuck yes.” You cried, banging at his broad chest.
San lips attached to your exposed neck, sucking, nibbling on the sensitive skin. That did not disturb him to finger you as his life depended on it.
The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning.
And you moaned that name, whined it while tossing and turning in the arms of its owner.
“Hmmm yeeees. Cum for me… cum cum cum cum.” He led you right into the void of madness.
Waves of pure bliss hit you one after another. He pushed you slightly onto your back and hovered above you. His fingers kept reentering your walls ruthlessly. The pace fastened. San needed to fuck the last ounce of orgasm out of you. He had to see you desperate for more. And you gave that to him, you gave it all.
When your trembling began to fade, he finally withdrew his long fingers. They left your slit with a pop sound as your walls did not want to let them go.
“Mmmm, so satisfying.” He cooed with a smug look on his face.
You were soaked, dripping down on your freshly changed sheets. Only San could bring you to the state like that. Only he was able to work you out.
And he knew it too well. That was why he savored your taste on his tongue each time, collecting your essence from his digits as a reward. This was his ritual with you, and he felt like pulling the knife at any man who would try to take his place.
It was a little embarrassing to cum this hard from a foreplay. He could see it in your face. Oh, he would enjoy holding it against you later, then having you challenge him just so he could prove you the point yet again. Perhaps you wouldn't be this defeated with another man. And that thought alone stroked his ego in all the right directions. The cruel prince had awakened.
While he let you catch a breath, he sat down and took care of his shorts all wet from you and his own precum. They landed next to the shreds that once was a thong.
Nonchalantly, San went back to tower over your recovering body.
“Such a good, good girl you are, (y/n). You make me want to brag about you everywhere I go.” He focused on your lips. “And I think I will. You deserve a big kiss, baby.”
You quietly sobbed at another touch of his lips on yours. San grabbed your jaw to keep you in place so he can fully immerse in you. You grabbed onto him. Arms around his shoulders, legs embracing his waist.
“More.” You whispered weakly, breaking the kiss. “Please.”
With a merciful smirk, San embraced and secured your back. He had no trouble picking you up and sitting down with you in his arms.
“It's your call, baby.” He gently kissed your neck. “I'm all yours.”
It was your turn to move.
His cock deliciously throbbed between your legs, hard and swollen, tip tinted purple. San was more than ready. His eyes demanded you ride him until you were both sweaty messes. He clearly told you what he planned for tonight.
You gave him a few slow strokes and massaged his peak, which he awarded you for with impatient curses. Depending on the position, his length as well as width could be too much for you sometimes.
But you, adjusting to his size, was what he lived for. The tight embrace of your wall required a lot of self-control to not combust immediately. You were a challenge he would never fail to accept.
You raised your hips, teasingly sliding his tip up and down your slit. You trembled anytime it brushed your entrance.
“I know you can take it.” He encouraged you with this annoying amusement in his voice. Oh, how weak you were for this arrogant man.
Placing his hands on your thighs, he gently caressed them, drawing soothing circles with his thumbs. San began to watch the show as you welcomed him inside.
“Of fuck.” You hissed at the stretch. Supporting yourself on his shoulders didn't help. You sucked him in on your own.
The air abruptly left his lungs as your pussy graced his manhood with the first silkiest hug tonight. He wanted to act tough, intimidating with his cocky smile, but you felt like heaven.
San fought hard. You whetted his big appetite. He wished he had taken the matters in his hands, but he couldn't just pin it to you. Also, where was the fun in that? He preferred to watch you cry and struggle as he sunk deeper inside your warmth, inch by inch, without mercy.
“Shit, you're sooo tight.” He gasped out at how you began working on suck him dry.
Possessed with pleasure, San waited until you got more comfortable with his size. And the moment he felt you loosened and the relief ghosted your face, he knew he could push into you fully.
You shook on your whole body when he moved his hips up and finally reached his goal.
“Ruude.” You whimpered, feeling absolutely intoxicated all stuffed like that.
While you tried to gather your thoughts, San released your breasts from the night dress and buried his face in their plush. He inhaled the pure scent of your bare skin. You smelled sweet and spicy, exactly like your personality.
“You know me. I like being rude.” He smirked. “And I know you. You like it too.”
He was right. The struggle was real, but even that provided you with indescribable bliss. And now, when you engulfed him fully, the satisfaction was out the roof.
San firmly put his hands on your hips and moved them without a word of warning.
Waves of delight washed upon you when his tip swept over your sweet spot, “Waaait, I- ne-ed to aah!”
But he didn't listen. He couldn't stop, not with you taking him so well, not when you were dripping all over his thighs.
Under his control, you felt him reach new depths with every grind. Setting the pace, he didn't need to lead you anymore. The fullness you felt was driving you crazy. You put your head on his shoulder, hands on his back, and you rode him, deep and starving.
“If I'm your moon prince. Then what does that make you? My moon?” He asked out of nowhere as if he wasn’t just penetrating the deepest corners of your womanhood and making you lose your senses.
You couldn't answer. You could not form a single word.
“Hmm?” He was stubborn, despite swallowing his own moans. “Are you my moon?”
You mumbled something. The force his dick rubbed on your sweet spot took away your ability to think, let alone speak. You felt every beat in his veins. But San needed you to play along.
A juicy smack landed on your ass, “Are you?”
You mustered a little will to answer his demands, “Ye-es.”
He kissed your collar bone gently, which clashed with the treatment you received somewhere else.
“Then let me howl at you the whole night.”
With these words, his arms embraced your waist and shifted your whole weight onto himself. You were lifted up a little bit, enough so he had space to pound on you as freely as he could.
San began claiming you, rough and madly. His hips moved underneath you while his eyes studied every emotion on your face.
“Look at yourself.” He breathed out. “Look how cute you are, melting around my dick like that.”
Ah, yes. The mirror in front of your bed.
San never failed to remind you about it when you were getting intimate. He never failed to use it as a tool.
You didn't hang it there to watch yourself getting demolished. There was really no other place in your room to put this big mirror you bought on a very beneficial sale. But ever since you brought San in your apartment, the reflection stopped being associated with only checking your appearance.
You raised your half shut eyes at your face. You stared at how pathetic you were and how much you didn't care about it. You watched your features contorted in delight when San reached deeper and now was hitting your cervix unforgivably. You heard your own cries from the power, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt so good, unearthly good.
The moment the frequency of your walls’ spasm grew, he sat you down on his cock again, burying his whole face in your neck. Now both your bodies rocked back and forth.
“It's too much.” You pinned your nails into his back and dragged them against his skin.
San cursed between hisses, making you look at the marks you just made. There was no blood, but the lines were getting bright red.
The was something about the way his wide back muscles moved while holding you tight, fucking you mindlessly. You focused on the tattoo that started it all. It worked on you like a flame on a moth. Every little thing pushed you closer and closer to the point of breaking. The way his body felt under your touch, how it moved with one goal - to have you scream.
He smelled like a late summer day, despite the outside weather being cold. The sweet sound he moaned into your ear made your whole existence buzz.
“I can't hold it anymore.” You informed him breathlessly. “I'm about to cum. But I can't…I can't…”
That position, despite allowing him to penetrate you the deepest, tended to exhaust you. San could tell it, by the way your movements slowed down compared to your need for release. Gladly, he had more strength than enough to take care of you.
He, himself, needed you to sob his name as he took you like an animal. San had nothing against slow, passionate sex but with you, it was simply impossible. You occupied his mind every second of the day. There were many nights he spent alone due to tours and busy schedules, sleepless nights, spent on quietly moaning out your name as his drenched cock throbbed in his hand. So when he finally had you in his arms, he let all the hunger out. San couldn't get enough of you. Calling it addiction would've been an understatement. You were his object of worship.
With the sudden overflow of motivation, he effortlessly changed your position that would allow him to give his goddess the finish she deserved. Your weakening body was laid down on its back. His pride did not slide out of you, even for a moment.
“Baby...” You called for him, but all you received was a glance, a momentary view of his eyes that were like the ones of a wild wolf.
San pulled your hips up to fuck you in the most suitable angle. His firm grasp kept you in place. The next goal was to set the pace that was going to have you cumming in seconds.
His elastic pelvis graced you with powerful yet skillful thrusts. His tip attacked your sensitive center, not letting it rest. You got even wetter, slicker to the point he didn't feel when he was going in and out of you.
“San, I'm…” You gasped, not able to make a sound. The control over your body belonged to San.
You broke beneath him.
The extreme heat accumulated in your abdomen exploded, flooding you from head to toes. Your sight blurred, heart pounded in your chest. The loud cries from the indescribable pleasure overcame any other sound in the room. There was no way to stop the severe trembling. It was too much. He was too much for your fragile, sensitive body to handle all this differently. You shattered into small pieces around him. And you would do it again and again.
San leaned above you with his hands on both sides of your head. You saw the sweat dripping down his neck and chest, and it drove you insane.
“My balls prepared a nice load for my moon.” He grunted with trouble. “And you will take it all. Every drop.”
His command, like a charm, had your cramping walls grab onto the base of his cock, their fast pulse forcely ripped the orgasm out of him.
“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” He whined, shooting his rich load inside you. You accepted his throbs and spasms like a reward, with pure bliss.
San took his time, sliding in and out, painting your walls in white with his essence. Loud curses and moans leaving his throat were a reminder that you absolutely belonged to him.
“Fuck baby, the way you tighten around me when you cum...” He groaned, melting over the satisfying sensation. “Paradise.”
You embraced him with so much appreciation and love when he laid on you, forbidding him from exiting you.
He looked at your closed eyes and their teary corners. He studied your parted lips that he wanted to kiss constantly. You were so perfect, all wasted like that.
To calm you both down, he leaned to the side and began caressing your neck with lazy smooches. Your quiet, adorable little moans in response to his affection made the blood rush in his veins again.
“More.” He whispered desperately in your ear. “I need…more.”
He paid closer attention to your bare breasts. They called for him, bouncing slightly as he began to move his hips in circles. Your erected buds hardened, caught in his skillful lips. Body decided for you. It yearned for him once more.
“Baby…” You entangled your fingers in his black hair, feeling him slowly thickening inside you.
“There is still so much I wanna do to you. I'm so horny for you, baby.” His raspy, sultry tone was enough to make your pussy flutter. And he felt that with every ounce of his being. There was no better feeling than your desire for him.
The art on his back crossed your spinning mind. You found the culprit of this insatiability.
“Damn you, tattoo.” You giggled. “I really wanted to read that book tonight.”
He lined up his face with yours and gave you that well-known, disarming smile with dimples that had you and all his fans go weak in the knees.
Little did you know, the tattoo you were now cursing wasn't his "latest whim". The moment he saw your eyes shine at the drawn one, he immediately decided to have it forever engraved on his skin. Now San had his own little trick to keep your full attention on no one else but him.
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@nateezfics @hazysan 💋
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diejager · 5 months
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@warenai gave me the juiciest idea.
Draw Cw: smut, porn, prostitution, P in V, creampie, jealousy, handjob, mating press, voyeurism, tell me if I missed any.
part 2
There was a silent understanding between the three of them after that whole fiasco, Ghost and Soap demanding answers from their captain on their own time. Ghost confronted Price in his office that night, body still hot and bothered from your live but wracked with cold sweat from finding out that Price was your third, highest donator. Price hadn’t expected him, neither did Price expect him to find out about his little secret, the thing he spent his money on, but when Soap stopped him outside of the base, he wasn’t surprised then. Ghost had told him about everything, how both he and Soap were members of your OnlyFans, devoted and loyal, only using the site to watch you.
Whether it bothered Gaz that they kept having silent conversations through side glances and open staring, he hadn’t voiced his confusion or curiosity, he stayed outside of this struggle to catch your attention. For all they knew, only the three of them knew you and enjoyed the content, spending their nights jerking off at your sweet voice and beautiful body dressed in all kinds of things. Gaz seemed none the wiser, acting as he usually did, smiling gently, taking care of his strict skin routine, trimming his moustache and caring for his favourite cap.
Yet, he seemed so energetic today, exhuming happiness and giddiness while the others looked dejected, shoulders slumped lower and sighing disappointedly. It was suspicious, for Gaz to act out of character, especially after your announcement of an anonymous winner of your draw, choosing at random one of your patrons to host a live with, letting them fuck you as they dreamed to. Unfortunately, you hadn’t told the public to protect the winner’s identity until the live, you would contact them directly for a day and time.
They seethed in silence, a storm of jealousy stewing in their guts while Gaz smiled and laughed to his phone, eyes glued to his screen and fingers tipping away as if he was in a rush to answer the person he was messaging. It went on like this for a while, a week before Gaz asked for a few days of leave, packing his rucksack with clothes and toiletries with the prettiest and newest clothes he had. Soap had teased him about leaving and dressing pretty for a date, that he’d been texting the girl who caught his heart for a wile now.
They forgot about Gaz after he left, happy for him and curious but not involving themselves into his business, until they got opened up your live after they got the notification about it starting in a few minutes. The watched you smile, wave at the camera, manicured nails gleaming under the soft, yellow light of a hotel room. You changed the location of stage, a comfortable looking hotel room with a queen bed and silken sheets. The highlight of this live - like every other - was you, dressed in a pretty, satin shirt fitting your dark navy teddy, the same shade under warm lights.
You sat on the bed, legs open and flashing the dark patch of your underwear, darkened with slick from earlier foreplay with your guest —the lucky bastard. You made the same introduction, a smile and wave, followed by welcoming them with your stage name, but this time, you reached out for someone off screen, fingers locking with a caramel one, thick fingers with calloused pads, the person who won the draw was lean but still muscular, his arms and thighs curved and abdomen hard. He wore a familiar mask —a skull painted balaclava.
“This is GazCan,” you pulled the man down to him hands and knees, pressing kisses against his gleaming chest, lips wandering up his throat and he’s masked cheek, “He won this year’s draw.”
They knew the balaclava, how could they not when they wore it before as a team, one singular squad fighting towards one goal — it was the Ghost team mask. This was no coincidence, it all fit in with their situation: Gaz had been overly enthusiastic and happy for a week, his sudden ask for days-worth leave and all the neatly folded clothes and skin care.
This winner was Gaz. They were watching Gaz finger you, pumping two of his fingers into your slick cunt, drooling over his palm for everyone to see and hear, the lewd and wet sound of his hand. They watched Gaz fuck you raw, folding you in half, knees to your ears and feet dangling over his shoulders as he snapped his hips, pounding you into the hotel bed and whispering filthy things into your ear. Your swollen folds puffing around his cock, hair trimmed and clean, veins bulging out as he drove in, were in full view of the camera, letting them watch how well Gaz was breeding you.
They boiled with jealousy, being forced to watch one of them feel you, taste you, fuck you. Gaz made you sign for them, mewls and keens rising high from how well he pleasured you, the pointed tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix and veins rubbing against your g-spot. He was a mix of gentle sex and domination, keeping his hands on you and bending you to his liking, manhandling you to fit his wild fantasies and you liked it.
Despite seeing someone they knew fuck you, that didn’t stop them from coming, spreading their cum over their cock and jerking out the rest of it against their bed and desk. It drove them wild thinking that they could’ve been the one filling you up with their load rather than Gaz, his white jizz bubbling out of your twitching cunny and rolling down your perky rim.
“GazCan, is it, sergeant?” Price cock his brow, lip pursed and arms crossed, he looked so stern as he stared Gaz down.
“Captain,” Gaz smiled back, shamelessly comfortable with his date being shared in the briefing room, then he turned to Ghost, “Ghostie,” and to Soap, “SexiSoap, not exactly subtle.”
Part 4
Tag list: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan
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heartss4val · 7 months
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— GENERAL DATING HC'S (part two)
pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, jason grace, hazel levesque, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader word count: 3.9k
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percy jackson
if anyone is boyfriend coded it's percy.
the way percy immediately squeezes your hand to call your attention the second he spots something he knows you'd love. whether it's your favorite song playing in a store, or the sight of pretty flowers in full bloom, percy's just as excited as you are !!
for some reason, percy really likes to shower you with hugs. whether you're out in public or nestled comfortably in your own cabin, he's quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close! you can feel his warmth radiating against your skin as he presses his body close to yours, his face nuzzled snugly in the crook of your neck. he just doesn't want to let you go, at least not yet. maybe it's because he feels safe when he's holding onto you, and he doesn't want that feeling to disappear so quickly. not that you mind, though.
percy loovvees to hold your hand in public, like he literally can't get enough of it. no matter where you go, he would effortlessly slip his hand into yours, the coolness of his palm making contact with your own as you walk side by side through camp.
i feel like percy's hands are pretty cool to the touch, so during the colder months he likes to hold your hand and tuck it in his pocket to shield you from the cold. like, he doesn't want to let go, but he also doesn't want you to freeze LMAOO.
percy's kisses are varied. sometimes they're slow, sometimes they're quick or urgent, and a whole lot more. but each time, they're exhilarating. percy also has a habit of pulling and playing with your belt or waistband whenever you kiss, and it always catches you off guard, no matter how many times it happens. even when you're in the middle of doing something else, he'll grab you by the waistband and pull you in for a kiss. and when he's not tugging on it, he'll run his fingers around it, dragging his fingers around the fabric almost teasingly, LIKE GAH ZAMN.
percy lets you draw on his skateboard!! listen, i know he's only mentioned as a skater like twice in the book, but i don't care. he is a skater boy in my heart.
his skateboard is absolutely LITTERED with doodles of your favorite bands, or any other designs that came to mind, as well as temporary stickers that are already starting to fade. but percy doesn't mind at all because it looks cool and you're happy! so that's all that matters to him. he loves looking down at the marks you left on his skateboard with a stupid smile, even if it means he gets hit by a wall because he wasn't paying attention.
when percy is in love, it becomes evident in his every action. he makes it a point to look for your face throughout the day, be it in moments of triumph or defeat. he only wants for you to witness him at his best, and no amount of applause or pats on the back from others can compare to the feeling of your touch; the gentle caress of your thumb across his cheek accompanied by words of praise, are what he craves the most. :(( he wants your validation and approval, but struggles to express it, because behind his front lies just an awkward teen filled with doubts and insecurities, desperate to prove himself to you.
but when he's in the water?? in his ZONE?? that's a different story. his confidence level SOARS. his water powers are in full force, and he's flipping around in the water trying to impress you like a little kid LMAOO.
to percy, you're more than just his partner. the thought of living without you is unimaginable to him, and he refuses to even think about it. his love for you only grows with each passing day, and he swears that he couldn't love you more than already does, yet he knows that he will tomorrow.
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annabeth chase
MY GF FR!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️
annabeth always loved you, but as time went on, her perspective on you began to shift. she loved the sound of your laughter, and the way you would enthusiastically recount your experiences of the day. there was something in the way your eyes would light up when you spoke, that made her heart skip a beat. at first, she didn't recognize the emotions that were building within her, but the second she tried to deny being in love with you, she realized she was.
meeting you, loving you, finally making you hers—made annabeth have a whole different perspective on love.
she always asks for your opinions first. all the time. she asks for your thoughts on her latest architectural design, questions your perspective on her favorite book. because she values YOU. your input matteres to her more than anyone else's because she knows that you understood her in a way that no one else could. (also i feel like annabeth lowkey mansplains sometimes so she's trying to make up for it lmaoo.)
if your hair is long enough to tie back, she'll match your ponytail to hers. <33 but if not, she'll run her fingers through your hair instead, twirling the edges around her finger absentmindedly. annabeth doesn't like accessories in her own hair, but she loves seeing them in yours !!
she's VERY careful when tidying up your hair. like, if you ask her to brush your hair for you, it'll take her a while because she's so particular about it. she just wants the best for you!! <3
annabeth is the best with cats idc. (doesn't she have two in ttc?) she'll kneel down to pet it, making that "pspspsps" sound to get its attention LMAOO. she'll literally scoop it up in her arms and cradle it like a baby.
if you're allergic to cats or simply don't like them, she'll keep a distance and pretend to share your dislike, meanwhile, she'll already have come up with a cute name for the cat in her head, probably something similar to your own. <33
annabeth isn't really big on pda, but she makes up for it with other acts of love !! she has a variety of love languages, each more prominent than the next, but her go-to move is holding hands. she'll gently pull you along on your museum date, explaining the origins and details of each monument with a proud smile !!
you and annabeth gossip about books. not people. and yes, i am telling the truth, she told me herself. (lie) she'll even read to you while you lay your head on her lap JUST so that you two can talk about it later.
but when it comes to architectural books, sometimes annabeth forgets that not everyone is as passionate about architecture as she is LMAOO. she'd be like, "can you believe that John Poulson bribed people for his work? i would never stoop to that level," and you'd just be sitting there with a polite smile on your face even though you have no idea wtf she's talking about. but she does it because she trusts you, not because she wants to confuse you LMAOO.
annabeth is never easily vocal when it comes to her emotions. while she can be sharp-tongued when expressing her opinions, when it comes to her feelings, most of the time she struggles to find the right words. sometimes, she's not even sure how to articulate what she's experiencing. the sudden rush of emotions she's feeling now, with you, can be overwhelming, to say the least. her love for you is intense, but annabeth wonders if it's enough to fully convey how much she loves you. if she loved you any less, maybe it would be easier for her to express herself. but the truth is, she loves you so much that it leaves her at a loss for words. a daughter of athena. at a loss for words.
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leo valdez
this boy practically has permanent heart eyes for you — it's insane.
i think we all know this, but leo's definitely not one to hide his admiration for you. he's basically in a constant state of awe whenever you're around. he thinks you're the absolute prettiest person on earth, and he's LOUD about it. like, before you started dating he definitely looked up one of those cringe pick up line lists at least once in hopes of impressing you. (they didn't work.)
howeverrr, leo's affection for you runs deeper than just your physical appearance. you're not just eye candy to him. he values your inner qualities just as much as your outer ones, and he's always reminding you about it !!
mentioned this in pt 1, but this boy is an incredible cook and EVERYONE knows it. because of that, he's super perceptive when it comes to your food preferences, knowing exactly what dishes you love and those that you don't care for. he'll transfer food from his plate to yours because he wants you to enjoy your meal, and he'll and also happily devour any food that you dislike, while simultaneously insulting your taste LMAOO.
like one time you went to the bathroom, came back, and saw that the amount of your favorite food on your plate just doubled. 💀💀
leo loovvees taking photos of you. (let's pretend demigods are allowed to use phones) like, he'll snap away until his phone's storage is filled to the absolute BRIM. if you ask him to delete any unflattering ones, he'll do so but while fervently defending his collection, insisting that he takes so many pictures of you not because he's searching for the perfect shot, but because you look breathtaking from every angle. :((
in addition to his digital collection, leo also has a cherished polaroid board covered in various pictures, but the majority of them feature you. <33
leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so if he has any scrap metal laying around (which he often does) he'll stay up late into the night creating something special just for you !!
leo looovveess kissing your cheek with a pronounced "mmMWAH!" sound. onces he's done, he'll turn his head slightly and look at you expectantly, indicating that he wants you to do the same to him. <33
he was probably the first one to say "i love you." in the relationship. he might've said it rather quickly because he was always sure about his feelings towards you even before your relationship had officially started, but he never pressured you to reciprocate. he was willing to wait for you to come to your own conclusion.
but until then, leo never stopped expressing his love for you. every morning and every night, he would whisper a giddy "i love you, mi amor" before rushing off to wherever he needed to be.
once you do finally say the words back to him though, he's grinning like an idiot for an entire two weeks. he'd often repeat his feelings for you, almost annoyingly, just to hear you say those four words he cherished the most back, 'i love you too.'
(also, this image is so leo. yes it's a green flag to me, and no i will not further elaborate.)
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piper mclean
piper has a habit of linking arms with you !! like, wherever you go, the two of you are literally inseparable. she also sees it as a way to declare your relationship, because she's proud to be with you and has nothing to hide! <33 she's also a hand swinger fr.
she lets you cut her hair !!! mostly because she secretly loves the sensation of your hands on her face and your fingers weaving through her choppy locks, but also because she trusts your judgement! piper isn't afraid of alternating her appearance, but she especially want to look good for you.
speaking of alternating appearances, you two match outfits. all the time. is it sickenly cheesy? yes. do either of you particularly care? no. even when you aren't wearing matching outfits, you both have a collection of homemade matching jewelry, so both of you are always carrying a piece of each other, even if it's just a simple bracelet. <33
NICKNAMES IN FRENCH >>>> OMGG. her most used include "mon amour" meaning "my love", "mon ange" [my angel] and "ma chérie." [my dear/darling] and yes she is very much aware of the effect she has on you. <33 speaking of, she 100% helps you ace all your french exams. such a good gf.
she tells you all about her family history. piper loves how your eyes light up with genuine curiosity. with you, she feels more appreciated. :(( she'll you all about the culture, customs, and even a few traditional songs.
piper knows she has a good singing voice, but she still feels self-conscious whenever she showcases them in front of others. but when it comes to you? she'll sing all you want, since she feels a huge sense of comfort whenever you're around. whether it's through cuddles or other means, it's in your arms that she feels the most at peace, and it's also where she feels the most comfortable saying, "i love you." !!!
she teaches you how to use a dagger lmaoo. she'll carefully guide you, tell you how good you're doing (sometimes), and even sneak in a few kisses if she's feeling extra affectionate that day!!
piper hates being labeled as a typical daughter of aphrodite. she constantly feels the need to prove that she doesn't fall into the stereotype that comes with being a child of the goddess of love. but ever since you came into her life, ever since she started loving you, you taught her that she doesn't have to be ashamed just because her half-siblings fall into certain expectations. you've shown her that she should be able to be her own person without the restraints of being a daughter of aphrodite. and she might not always express it, but she's entirely grateful for that. for you. after all, we're all just fools in love, and you're the soul who showed her what love should truly be like.
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jason grace
ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is crazyy.
whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.
even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33
and even though he's always paying full attention whenever you speak, his gaze always seems to settle on your lips. and when you smile or laugh, he's completely mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of you !! like you can LITERALLY see his eyes widen and his lips part, as if he can't believe how beautiful you are, because he can't get enough of you.
jason is the epitome of a gentleman FR!! 🗣️🗣️ he never fails to open doors for you, give you his jacket when you're cold, and even offer his hand as you make your way down the last few steps of the stairs. but that's only the surface level, we haven't even gotten to the real deal yet okayyy??
if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he'll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first !!
and if you happen to be walking through a cramped space with him in front of you, he effortlessly lifts you up by your arms so you can pass through without any trouble! what's even more impressive is jason's lightning-fast reflexes, especially when it comes to protecting you. if something is about to fall on you, he's always there to catch it before it can even graze you. and if you happen to trip, he swiftly catches you in his arms without making a fuss !!
his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.
whenever you hug jason, you always get lifted off the ground a few inches. like he almost doesn't realize he's doing it as he hoists you up off the ground with EASE. while you're just dangling from his arms LMAOO.
jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go. and when you catch him gazing at you, and the transition of his grin to a subtle smirk AURGHJ!!
even before you started dating, jason fell for you and is honestly still falling, wanting you more and more with each passing day. all your flaws, mistakes, and imperfections included, he wants you. and only you.
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hazel levesque
hazel is the best gf ever!!! she hypes you up every chance she gets. like, she literally never misses an opportunity to boost your confidence. she finds beauty in the most subtle things, like the tiniest ring on your finger, and truly believes that you look absolutely stunning in it, even if it's not her personal taste since she grew up in a different era. but she's so open to exploring new fashion styles and modern ideas for you, and also so that you guys can match. <33
whenever hazel leans in to kiss you, there's a touch of hesitancy in her movements. not because she doesn't want to kiss you !! she just wants to make sure you're comfortable. :(( she's clearly trying to gauge your reaction and make sure that everything is going well.
she worries that maybe she was too rough last time, (SHE WASN'T AT ALL LMAOO) or that she's moving too slowly this time around. you honestly find it cute how she worries about such small things, and in response, you wrap your arms around her and kiss her back, immediately dispersing ALL her concerns. <33
hazel is soo pretty in red lipstick omg. the way she leaves lipstick prints on your cheeks and playfully pecks at the skin on your neck while laughing is so cute!
hazel wants the absolute best for you! but don't underestimate her, this is the same girl who died to stop gaea at 13, okay? she's so brave. she respects all your boundaries and will always prioritize your safety and comfort first!
horseback riding. all the time. hazel is the only valid horsegirl. she'll go on and on about them, from their behavior and habits to their history.. but nothing makes her happier than seeing you genuinely interested in what she has to say!! she feels so special around you. :(( you've spend countless afternoons horseback riding with hazel. it's definitely one of your favorite pastimes now.
hehe i can definitely see you sharing your interests to her, and even introducing her to modern music/bands. it's probably a shock for hazel to switch time periods and witness the evolution of music. like, there are times when modern songs makes her all shy and stuff. but your love for it has definitely been able to sway her perspectives! she probably picks up matching band shirts or records as souvenirs when returning from her quests. <33
hazel loves hugs !! they often begin with excitement, both of you giggling like children. but as time passes, the embrace transforms into a soft and quiet hold. there's always a subtle competition between the two of you to see who will let go first, and hazel always emerges as the winner. <33
if forever does exist, hazel wants it to be you. her heart is overflowing with a million emotions, all of which are directed towards you. through your gentle guidance, she's learned to appreciate the beauty in even the most ordinary moments. the thought of losing you is unbearable. she never wants to let go of you. not now. not ever.
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frank zhang
your guys' first date was definitely at an arcade/amusement park! he's hardcore blushing the entire time, while you totally crush him at all the activities. (he let you win) and, to top it off, he made sure to win you some impressive, oversized stuffed animals at the end!!
frank would pay close attention to all the details about you. like he literally knows stuff that you don't even remember telling him. 💀 even if you mention something in passing conversation, he'll make a mental note of it and remember it later on.
protective!frank standing up for others. anyone he cares about, including his friends and you. :(( he's not an angry person, sometimes he's even a little timid, so seeing him all loyal & passionate for those he loves really makes your heart swell up.
frank also leaves you sweet little notes frequently, and goes out of his way to get you lunch or anything else you might need !! sometimes after a long day, he'll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder and asking about your day. <33
bear hugs are frank's thing. both literally and figuratively. he's the kinda person who would wrap his arms around you, and if you don't object, he'll keep holding you tightly while taking a few steps to maintain balance. and before you know it, you'll both be tumbling onto the couch or his bed, with his chest breaking your fall. but instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable, both of you start laughing, with frank hugging your waist even tighter in affection. <33
frank is really protective but in a subtle, non-verbal way. like, he has a habit of wordlessly moving you to the safer side of the sidewalk. and, even if it is not yet dark outside, frank will insist on walking you home, making sure that you arrive safely. he doesn't want to be overbearing, but he's also just genuinely concerned about your safety. :((
frank isn't really a pda guy, but he absolutely adores hand holding! it's a subtle way of indicating that he's yours and you're his. also, there's just something comforting about the feeling of your palm against his, and he finds himself tracing the curvatures of your hand as like it's a map he's trying to memorize. it's a small gesture, but it means the world to him !!
frank does almost every subtle manner. oh, you need a hair tie? he's pulling off one of yours from his wrist. having trouble carrying groceries? he's already there. it's like he has a 6th sense for when you're even slightly uncomfortable.
you're frank's safe place. he can literally feel his worries and fears melt away as you hold each other. you're all he ever wanted love to be, and he knows that as long as he lives, he'll love you.
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2K notes · View notes
lambertdiary · 6 months
Note
NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it
A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming
Word Count: 2.5k+
Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers
MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST
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After A Bad Day
Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother. 
The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.
He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.
“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.
“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.
“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”
“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”
“I can imagine”
She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”
“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”
“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”
“Did she eat her dinner?”
“I tried my best but you know her”
“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.
“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.
“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.
“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”
“What happened?”
Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”
“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”
“It was a misunderstanding”
“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”
She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?” 
“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”
“Y- yeah”
“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.
He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.
She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.
He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.
After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.
“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”
“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.
A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.
He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick. 
A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”
She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.
The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release. 
It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.
“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”
She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.
He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.
One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could. 
Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.
She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.
Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.
“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.
He swallowed hard before answering “Yes” 
“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”
He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.
“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”
She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.
Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.
He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body. 
She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.
With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.
He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall. 
They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.
“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.
“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.
He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.
“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.
He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her. 
By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.
“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”
Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure. 
His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.
When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body. 
“Good job” She whispered into his ear.
2K notes · View notes
halsteadlover · 3 months
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝
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*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.
• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.
• Word count: 2453.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx
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You were going crazy.
His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.
They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.
Asshole.
“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.
“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.
Holy fuck.
You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.
He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.
He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.
And how could anyone blame him?
Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.
He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.
“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.
“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.
Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”
“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.
Had the temperatures suddenly risen?
Or were you just horny?
Probably the second option.
“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.
And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.
It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.
“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.
“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”
“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.
You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.
“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.
You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”
This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.
“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.
“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.
“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.
“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.
“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”
But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.
That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.
His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.
“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.
“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.
“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.
“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”
“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.
“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.
He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.
“That’s my good boy.”
He almost came from that sentence alone.
His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.
He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.
A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.
“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”
“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.
“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”
“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.
He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.
“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.
“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”
You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.
You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.
One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.
“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”
Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.
“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.
God you were so beautiful.
“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.
Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”
Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.
But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”
With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.
“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.
You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.
“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.
“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”
He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.
“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.
You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”
He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”
And man, had he kept his promise.
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a childhood sweetheart of coryo turned couple classmates yet the games began and she saw coryo fell in love with lucy, went to district 12 and returned empty handed with a cold heart
and how she was there to welcome him back and accept him wholeheartedly, allowing him to use her through his rise at becoming President.
"you dont love me anymore and thats okay but at least you dont love her as well. at the very least use me until im nothing of value to you. because thats how i love"
Use me || Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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A/n: anon you're so creative....
Warnings: reader smoking, manipulative snow, mention of infidelity, suggestive, if there's anything else lmk
Wc: 1,075
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
Flashback
"What's on your mind, my love?" You gently sweep a stray strand of his blonde locks away from his face. His chest still rapidly rising and falling from the previous activities.
Coriolanus' gaze gravitates toward you as you gracefully rest on your forearm, the strap of your nightgown sensually slipping down your arm. Coryo delicately corrects it, gracing you with a warm smile as your eyes intimately connect with his.
"Nothing, everything's alright," he dismisses, his gaze returning to the ceiling. You release a quiet sigh, opting not to probe him further.
You shift to turn to your side, your back facing Coryo as you hear him quietly sigh. Unexpectedly, his arm envelops you, drawing you against his warm chest, his lip delicately grazing your ear.
"I love you. I will always love you, y/n," he murmurs, prompting a tear to cascade down your cheek in response to his sudden confession. Part of you embraces his sincerity, while the other clings to lingering doubts.
As the 10th Hunger Games approached, the air buzzed with anticipation. Tributes were selected and the Games began, and with that, you noticed a shift in Coriolanus. His tribute from District 12, Lucy Gray, seemed to capture his attention in a way that sent ripples through your once idyllic romance. His eyes, once filled with tenderness for you, now held a distant, searching look.
-
"Tell me, Coryo, did you cheat for Lucy Gray?" Tears welled in your eyes as you stood before him, arms crossed, while he gazed back with a vacant expression. His silence hung in the air.
You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your cheek. "Please, just tell me, I could help you, my parents can help," you pleaded, wanting to know the truth. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, y/n," he murmured, shaking his head and retracting his hand as you stifled a sob.
Coriolanus, caught in the crossfire of ambition and newfound desires, struggled to articulate a response to your question. The once unbreakable bond as childhood sweethearts you shared seemed to fracture under the weight of the Games and the allure of Lucy Gray. He left, leaving you with unanswered questions and a heart heavy with uncertainty.
As the Games progressed, whispers of Coriolanus's involvement in cheating echoed through the Capitol's corridors. The ambitious student found himself banished to District 12, a harsh consequence that would permanently alter the course of his life. The Capitol, ever hungry for scandal, eagerly awaited his return.
~
End of Flashback
When Coriolanus comes back, the triumph that should define his return is replaced by the chill of defeat. Empty-handed and with a heart grown cold, he stands before you, a mere shell of the boy you once knew. Yet, true to the loyalty that defines your love, you are there to welcome him back.
"Coryo," you whisper tenderly, the rapid click of your heels announcing your silent approach. His eyes have yet to meet yours, but you surprise him with an unexpected hug, shattering the quietude around you. The warmth that once enveloped him dissipates, leaving only a haunting emptiness in its wake.
You could feel it in the way his arms reluctantly wrapped around you, the embrace forced and lacking the familiar back rubbing that used to accompany such moments. Lifting your head, you locked eyes with his cold and reserved gaze.
With a furrowed brow, you withdraw, clearing your throat before cautiously inquiring, "How are you?" He scoffs in response, his retort cutting through the air, "I've been living in the districts. How do you think I am?" his words spat out with a harsh bitterness.
You nod slowly, taken back at his outburst. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me. Forgive me," you murmur, your eyes fixed on the slender points of your heels, catching a mumbled and incoherent response from him.
"It's fine," though the contradiction between his words and tone is palpable. "Now, shall we go? I've had a long day." Coriolanus massages his forehead as you nod. "Of course, the car is waiting outside," you move your feet.
"Y/n, wait," he calls out as you pause in your steps, turning around to face him. His arm extends, an unspoken invitation for you to link onto it, and you feel the corners of your lips turn up momentarily.
Your family's wealth and influence worked as a shield, protecting Coriolanus from the harsh judgement of Capitol society. It was an unspoken fact that you and Coriolanus would be together no matter what happened.
As the months pass, Coriolanus's political ambitions soar, fueled by your family's wealth and connections. Your role transitions from a lover to a silent supporter, your love an offering laid at the altar of his ascent to power. Your heart bears the scars of unspoken pain, but you wear a façade of unwavering commitment.
So, you play your part. Standing by Coriolanus' side as he maneuvers through tricky Capitol politics, him as the youngest President of Panem, and you as First lady.
In the quiet moments, away from prying eyes, you try to break down the high walls of ice he has erected around his heart since his arrival back in the Capitol. But every attempt to rekindle what was lost seems to fall on deaf ears. The specter of Lucy Gray lingers, an unspoken presence that casts a shadow over your attempts at reconciliation.
~
"How many times have I told you to stop drinking so early in the day," Coryo's harsh words boom through the corridors of the lavish presidential mansion, his footsteps getting louder by each step.
You discreetly roll your eyes, a skillful concealment, as he forcefully snatches the posca glass from your grasp. The resounding slam of the glass meeting the table fills the room with an echoing punctuation.
"Coryo, it's Sunday, for goodness' sake," you implore, tilting your chin downward. Your eyes, slightly blown out, fixate directly on him, and a smirk graces your perfectly painted lips.
His gaze carefully explores the contours of your face. Your habit of indulging in the luxurious of alcohol at any time, in any place, has left its mark on you. "Get dressed, we have visitors soon," He says through gritted teeth, his fingers harshly holding your chin up.
"Of course, Coriolanus," You push his hand away, standing up quickly causing you to bump into his shoulder. Coryo's hands bawl into fists as he watches you walk away, he ought to have a talking to you for using his full name.
Coriolanus was not surprised at how quickly you managed to sober up and act like the proper lady you were. It was something Coryo admired about you, how much you prioritised your image and duty.
Luncheon went by a breeze, Coriolanus' hand never leaving your thigh during the entirety of it. The mask of Capitol perfection never failing to falter. However, the emotional toll of playing the dutiful partner while witnessing Coryo's heart slipping away, became increasingly unbearable.
Later that evening, your feet led you to his office. The speech you had rehearsed replaying in your mind, a plea for acknowledgment, a desperate cry for the remnants of the love that once defined your connection.
You lift up your knuckles to the wooden doors, hesitating for a moment before your knuckles make contact with the door. "Come in," You hear his voice call out as you let out a breath before stepping in.
Coriolanus arches an eyebrow in your direction, his gaze then drifting to your left hand where a cigarette delicately hangs between your manicured fingers. "You know how much I hate it when you smoke in the house, especially in my office," he remarks, reclining in his seat, an annoyed expression on his face. Undeterred, you challenge him by taking a deliberate, long drag, keeping eye contact intact.
"Apologies, husband, but you're well aware of how smoking has a peculiar way of soothing my nerves," you quip, casting him a wry smile before strolling towards the window. With a deft motion, you open it, allowing the tendrils of smoke to gracefully exit the room.
Coriolanus scrutinizes you, attempting to decipher the enigma you've become, though he acknowledges that his once-sharp ability to read you now lies dormant, lost during his time away from the Capitol. "Do you have something you want to say? I'm rather busy right now," he states, his gaze glued to scattered papers, while you, tapping your foot with impatience, await acknowledgment.
"Sit, if you want," he gestures nonchalantly, his eyes remaining steadfast on the sprawl of papers before him. You gracefully settle into the plush leather chair, crossing your legs as you stub out the cigarette.
"You don't love me anymore, I know you don’t, and that's okay," you said, your voice steady, your eyes fixed on the man who had once been your everything. "I've learned to accept it," you add, a note of acceptance in your voice. Coriolanus visibly freezes, his attention finally torn from the paperwork, as you wear a satisfied smile, relishing the impact of your words. "But at least you don't love her as well."
"At the very least, use me until I'm nothing of value to you, because that's how I love." Coriolanus, a complex tapestry of emotions, looked at you with a gaze that betrayed a mixture of regret and resolve. The reality of your words, the stark admission of your willingness to be used for the sake of a love that had long lost its luster, hung in the air.
"I never wanted it to be this way," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the choices that had led them to this moment. You refrain from letting out a scoff, "But it is," you replied, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips as you get up, walking around his desk to place a hand on his shoulder. "I'm at your disposal, Coryo. You know that, don't you?"
The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgement. Yet, the hunger for power had consumed him, and your sacrifice became a mere footnote in the narrative of his ascent.
As the years passed, you became a shadow in his political theater. Your influence and wealth were tools in his rise to power, your heart a casualty in the ruthless pursuit of his goals.
Your sacrifices, both seen and unseen, were the foundation upon which his legacy was built. Yet, the hollowness in your heart grew, a testament to the silent agony of a love that had withered in the shadows of power and ambition.
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hypewinter · 11 months
Text
Bruce carefully approached the child playing by himself in the park. The child giggled as they played with chalk, the sidewalk illuminated by a single street lamp.
"What are you drawing?" he said softly, not wanting to alarm them.
The child turned, revealing themself to be a little boy, no older than 5. He had raven black hair and icy blue eyes. Bruce could practically already hear Oracle snickering on the other end of the comms. She had probably already taken a snapshot of the boy through his visor and posted to the batkids group chat which contrary to popular belief, he did know about. Bruce sighed internally. He'd never hear the end of it when he got home. Especially if he had the kid in tow. Let's hope that didn't happen.
"Hello Batman!" a cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm drawing a gargaggle!"
Bruce refocused on the boy who showed no signs of fear. He didn't even look surprised which was strange to say the least. "A gargaggle? Do you mean gargoyle?"
The boy furrowed his brows for a bit before piping up again. "I do! It's such a funny word. I can never get it right."
"I know the feeling," Bruce said, crouching down next to the boy. "Sometimes I struggle with words too."
The boy's eyes went wide as if he couldn't believe the Batman struggled with words. "Say-" Bruce started, "-it's pretty late out are your parents nearby?"
The boy shook his head. "No, I don't have parents," he said as he went back to doodling.
Ok Bruce don't freak out just yet. "Oh, then do you have a guardian of sorts? Like an older sibling, or another family member? Like an aunt or grandparent?"
The boy shook his head again. "Nope. Oh! But I do have a friend. She's very nice and gives me lots of gifts and special things."
Alright, he could work with that. Maybe this 'friend' was the kid's guardian and he just didn't realize it yet. That could happen if he was put in their care recently. Bruce cleared his throat to get the boy to look up at him again. "Do you know where your friend is right now?" he asked.
The boy smiled wide. " 'course I do! She's right over there!" As he spoke, he pointed to a clutter of trees, just to his left. "She really loves you and your family," he said. "She's shy though, so she hid when she saw you coming."
"I see," Bruce replied as he got up. "Well maybe I can convince her to come out." He walked over to where the boy had pointed and pulled apart the bushes, hoping to find a woman who he could talk to about the dangers of wandering around at night. Instead he found nothing.
Bruce heard a giggle from behind him. "That's not where she is silly," he said.
"But that's what you-"
"She's not in the bushes, she's in the shadows. She's really good at hide and seek you know. Once we were playing and she hid in the shadows. Then she snuck up behind me from another shadow. It was really unfair! I never win hide and seek or tag against her," the boy said, starting to pout.
She's in the shadows? A meta? And one with a similar power set to Signal no less. Hmmmm.
Bruce began making his way back to the boy. "Then where is she right now?" he asked.
The boy shrugged, as he returned to his drawing once again. "I don't know. Sometimes she leaves and doesn't return for days. Since you're around, I don't think she's coming back for a while."
Great, just great. He had managed to scare off a little boy's only guardian in the middle of the night. Good going Bruce. he chided himself. He crouched down next to the boy again. "Do you know how to get home? Maybe we can wait for your friend there."
The boy turned to Bruce again. "Sure do!" he said, puffing out his chest. " 'cause I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home on their own." he recited.
That was another point for the growing concerning information checklist. "Okay let's go wait for her then."
The boy's face dropped as he looked longingly at his gargoyle drawing. For a moment, Bruce thought he would have to bribe the kid with a lollipop but instead he held up his arms to be carried. "Okay," he said solemnly.
Bruce exhaled in relief as he picked up the boy. After pulling out his grappling gun he turned to the boy. "Where to...." Shit. Had he really forgotten to ask for the kid's name?
The boy in question didn't seem all too bothered by that fact. "Danny," he answered seamlessly. "And it's that way." Bruce aimed his grappling gun and off they went.
----
It took Danny all of two directions before he was out like a light. Bruce sighed, switching directions. Yep, he would truly never hear the end of it.
Next
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sweetestdesire · 1 year
Note
here have a random rafe thought: ok it’s bestie rafe. you got in an argument with him idk about what. but you ignore his calls and text + you decide to go get drunk at the island club. so you get hammered. jj is your waiter so you’re being flirty. well one of rafey’s friends spots you and calls him and is like uh rafe your girlfriend’s here drunk off her ass and flirting with maybank.
rafe pulls the whole she’s not my girlfriend (bc he’s in denial) the friend is like yeah whatever (bc everyone knows how you two feel about each other. and how handsy you are with each other and how protective rafe is) just come get your girl
so unknown to you rafe comes to pick you up and you’re like wtf are you doing here. cue another fight bc you’re bratty and then it finishes with smut
💓
WHAT’S MINE IS MINE
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WARNINGS: DUBIOUS CONSENT, hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, spanking, etc. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader is Rafe Cameron’s, even if she doesn't know it.
"You broke his fucking arm!" Y/N snapped as she puffed her cheeks out, reaching to poke him in the ribs.
"He was touching you, Y/N.”
“I know how to take care of myself, Rafe. I’m a big girl.” She could feel how wild she must have looked, her hair falling out of its ponytail, fire in her eyes from the fight. Rafe wasn't wrong, she had plenty to drink, and JJ got a little too handsy with her at the Island Club.
"Most girls just say thanks.” Rafe mumbled, finally gaining some humility now that they were removed from the situation.
"Thanks." Y/N snapped, still glaring at him.
Rafe caught her hand as she went to poke him again, and she noted the strength of his fingers as she struggled against his grip. She swung her other hand around, and he caught that one just as easily. She glanced down at his fingers curled around her wrist and dragged her eyes up to his. His gaze met hers steadily.
"Let me go or I'll bite you.” Y/N declared, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.
Rafe leered at her and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes never leaving her face. With a snarl, she twisted down to him, gnashing her teeth that was mostly playful. She felt his laugh vibrate through her as she locked her jaw on his arm, gnawing like she was trying to chew her way through. When that failed to move him, she tried a different tactic. Gathering up spit, she used her tongue to coat his arm in saliva.
He yanked his arm away, wiping it against the couch, and Y/N used her freedom to poke him in the ribs again, laughing at the apparent disgust on his face. This turned out to be a mistake, and he snatched her hand with a growl, pushing her back into the couch, and swinging over her in one smooth motion, pinning her hands.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a brat?" Rafe said, not quite managing to hide his smile.
"It's called strategy.” Y/N replied primly, squirming under his weight.
"Is that why you're pinned against the couch?" He drawled, that hungry look back in his eyes.
"You win some, you lose some.” She dismissed, with a light laugh.
Her attempt at lightening the situation fell flat, and she felt her heart rate double as he leaned in, and dragged his lips up her neck.
"You know," Rafe rumbled. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened between us a few months ago at Topper’s party.”
"Oh?” Y/N stuttered out, knowing he could feel her thudding heartbeat beneath his lips as he kissed his way up her neck.
"If I remember right, it went something like this.” He smirked, and nibbled her neck.
Rafe bit deeper, his hands tightening further on her wrists as she writhed around, trying to avoid his sharp teeth. He stilled and looked down at her. His lips came down hard, almost bruising in their intensity, and his hands left hers, tangling themselves in her hair and drawing her closer.
Y/N gasped against his mouth, reeling from shock and the excited lurch in her gut, and he took the opening to force his tongue in, angling her head and deepening the kiss. She bit his tongue, and he reeled back, eyes flashing.
"Are you going to behave, or do I need to make you?"
"What do you plan on doing to me?" Y/N attempted to sound disapproving, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips, and she liked the sound of punishment more than she should.
"Keep misbehaving and you'll see.” Rafe warned, lowering his lips to hers again, one hand gripping her jaw.
He kissed her again, biting her lip harshly as she whimpered. When his tongue wormed into her mouth, she tried to push it out with hers, as he began frantically kissing her. His tongue dominated her mouth, wrapping around her tongue and probing against her teeth.
Without any conscious permission, her hands climbed to his shoulders, and he growled approvingly as sharp nails raked down his back. His teeth pushed against hers as she raked down his back again. He broke the kiss minutes or hours later, and rested his forehead against hers, breathing harshly.
"I don't think you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that.” Rafe said quietly, and the sincerity in his voice shot straight to her core.
Y/N covered it by ducking her head, but his fingers caught her chin, lifting it, and she met his eyes. Whatever he saw there made him lower his lips to hers again with a groan. This kiss was different, though. The fury and hunger were gone, and what was left was unexpectedly sweet and soft. She bit his lip and ran her tongue over his lips, sucking and pulling. There was silence except for their panting breaths, and the rustle of their clothes as they moved against each other.
Rafe’s hand trailed down to her shirt, revealing again her bra, and her heaving chest. Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his lips to her breasts with a final, burning look. His hands were gentle, stroking her breast through the cups of her bra, but his teeth were ruthless, biting and marking and claiming.
When Rafe pulled away, her skin glistened wetly, bruising even as she watched. He rumbled in satisfaction, and repeated the motion, until her breasts were swollen, skin broken and sensitive.
"Take off your shirt.” Rafe commanded, lips full and eyes bright.
Y/N remembered his warning, and some idiot part of her brain replied, “Make me."
His answering smile was all pointed edges and signs flashing danger. “I thought I told you to behave."
"What makes you think I'll do as I'm told?" She shot back, immediately regretting the words as he lifted himself off her, dragging her from the couch and into the bedroom.
Y/N struggled, and he locked his arms around her, bending her over the mattress and pushing her face deep into the covers as she struggled to breathe. He yanked at her shirt, and it came away with a clatter of buttons and a few ominous pops. He pushed one hand against her head as she attempted to raise it, fingers curling warningly in her hair.
With his other hand, he unsnapped her bra, worming his fingers up and around to her nipple and pinching sharply. She yelped into the blankets as he continued his assault, bruising her nipple with his rough fingers. His teeth sunk deep into her shoulder, and her bra was pulled off with the same carelessness and ferocity as her shirt.
Without warning, Rafe picked her up, throwing her whole body onto the bed. When she spun around, attempting to roll up and away, he pounced, pinning her shoulders with a feral smile. He dropped his teeth to her uncovered breasts, and lathed them with his tongue, coaxing her abused nipples to attention. He rolled a nipple between his teeth as she whimpered and struggled, before he bit down, sucking forcefully.
A small squeak worked its way up her throat, and he paused his torment to grin at her. “I did warn you."
Y/N turned her head away, trying to control her breathing, only for him to yank it back sharply, fingers snarled in her hair. Rafe kissed her again as one hand continued its assault, rolling and pinching and stroking. She whimpered into his mouth, and their teeth clinked together as he grinned at the sound.
"I like that sound a lot more than what's usually coming out of your mouth.” Rafe growled against her lips.
Y/N’s witty retort was muffled by his lips pressing against hers, and his hand moved between their bodies, fumbling with the catch on her pants. Her pants were removed with a rustle of fabric, and she squirmed as the cold air of the room assaulted her. His shirt followed shortly after, and she had a moment to appreciate the view before he squatted between her legs.
Rafe was silent, and stared down at the length of her body with her bruised chest heaving. She attempted to bring her legs together, embarrassed, and he shoved them open, her hips popping with the force. His fingers curled in, and she huffed a breath, unable to take her eyes off him. His hands snapped to her waist, and with a rip, her underwear was gone.
"Rafe! How am I supposed to leave with half of my clothes destroyed?" Y/N protested, eyes still locked on his unmoving form.
Rafe looked up at her, and instead of responding, he ran his fingers through the curls on the top of her pussy, the tips of his fingers just brushing against her clit. She jerked up, instinctively chasing the feeling of his hard fingers on her. He smiled at that, and brushed her clit again, amused by the feeble thrusts of her hips. She had to bite back a frustrated scream as his hands skimmed back up her body.
"I don't know that you've been punished enough, so I don't think I should reward you yet.” Rafe hummed, looking at her disheveled state with dark pleasure.
Y/N set her jaw stubbornly. “I don't want a reward. Just give me some clothes and let me up. I want to go home." She almost believed herself.
Rafe cocked an eyebrow at that, and reached one hand down, skimming the entrance to her hot, throbbing pussy. She couldn't help the whine that escaped, or the twist of her hips, trying to coax him deeper.
"Yeah.” He rasped. “That’s what I thought."
Y/N blushed, feeling it travel down her chest and he watched the skin redden with interest. He tugged her to a sitting position, then pulled her from the bed, dragging her forward a few steps to a floor length mirror.
"You're going to watch yourself as you suck me off.” Rafe informed her, matter-of-factly.
"And what makes you think I'll do that?" She challenged, cheeks still flushed.
"Because I'll return the favor.” He said lowly, pushing on the top of her head.
Y/N couldn't help the wave of heat that rushed through her, or the dig of her teeth into her lip at the thought of him between her legs, his tongue swirling, squirming, and lapping. She clenched her legs, and turned her head, nose in the air.
"You really are just making this harder for yourself.” Rafe said, mildly. "If you would’ve just behaved, I could’ve had my cock buried in you by now."
Y/N tried to feign disinterest, even as her stomach turned over at his dark tone and her eyes flicked to his jeans, his cock clearly straining to get out. Good, if she wasn't getting what she wanted, then he wouldn't either. She twirled away, attempting to bolt through the door, and he pinned her against a wall, dragging his lips up her neck, grinding his erection against her soft, round ass.
"Oh, no.” Rafe breathed. "You're not getting off that easily." He chuckled quietly and at the same time, sent his hand through the air to land on her ass with a sharp crack.
Her eyes widened as heat, then pain flashed through her. Before she could say anything, there was another crack, and another. She attempted to twist her body, but he merely gathered her hands in one of his, and slammed them against the wall, almost certainly bruising her wrists in the process.
That pain was overshadowed by the burning that was climbing up her ass, turning her whole body hot and tense. His hand came down again, again, and, after ten dizzying smacks, his hand came to rest on her ass, rubbing it softly to ease the sting.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Rafe asked, sounding perfectly in control.
Between pants, she responded, “Bite me."
He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Wrong answer.”
The pain resumed again, and with each smack, she fought back tears, until she was almost gasping with the effort.
"What about now?"
"I'm sorry!" Y/N finally squealed, as his hand began its descent for the ninth time.
Immediately, his hand was on her livid, inflamed ass, stroking it and running down the broken skin.
"That's better.” Rafe said, against her skin. "Good girl." And she tried so hard to be outraged, but the warmth in his tone made her flush with pleasure, even as his fingers stroked back and forth against her abused bottom.
"Now, do you want to behave, or do you want to keep mouthing off? I could happily spend all day marking up this gorgeous ass.” He said, punctuating his statement with a reverent brush of his fingers on her cheeks, his rough fingerpads leaving a tingling trail.
"I'll behave.” Y/N whispered, shivering and twitching under his gentle touch.
Rafe stroked her hair and turned her around, gently wiping her tears. He put a pillow on the floor and guided her down. She went, flinching at the feel of her bruised ass coming into contact with her legs as she folded them beneath her. She sat still, breath still coming in quick pants, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips nervously.
He looked down at her for a long moment, seeming to enjoy the view, eyes darting over her battered body with heated desire. Then, he dropped his jeans, and Y/N came face to face with a monster.
Unconsciously, she licked her lips again, wincing at her sore ass, her eyes locked on the cock that was about to ravage her throat. She enjoyed blowjobs, but she would rarely deepthroat, her gag reflex far too sensitive for such rough treatment. Her eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head ever so slightly.
"It's too big.” Y/N trailed off diffidently.
With a wolfish smile, Rafe guided his cock to her lips, fingers in her hair and said simply, “Try your best.”
Carefully avoiding her reflection in the mirror, Y/N reached out with one hand. It dwarfed her. She had a vivid flash of being pulled down on top of that cock, her pussy straining as it split her like a log, and her stomach panged with desire, shooting down to her twitching pussy. She could feel her arousal dripping on to the cushion.
Rafe seemed impatient, and rocked his hips forward, smearing her lips and cheeks with his pre-cum. Nervously, she reached up her other hand, and slowly began massaging down the length of his rigid cock. He groaned, eyes half closing, but still fixated on her, undisguised lust and satisfaction in his eyes.
With a quick look upwards at his unwavering gaze, she stretched out her tongue and rasped it along the tip of his cock, savouring the saltiness of the pre-cum glazing her lips. His hips twitched and twisted as she began licking at the top and slowly made her way down and around the length of his cock, before coming to his balls.
Y/N pumped his cock with both hands, her saliva easing the motion, and flicked her tongue over his balls, burying her face in and licking deeply. Rafe pulled her hands away for a moment and rested the length of his cock on her face, his expression feral.
Rafe’s eyes were dark, malicious, and hungry. She regretted, for a brief moment, all the times she had teased him with her body. All the times she had "accidentally" brushed against him, letting him feel her soft curves pressed against him.
Y/N remembered those burning eyes whenever she would eat in front of him, closing her eyes and moaning slightly at the taste. She assumed the hunger in his gaze was for her food. Rafe had been imagining this. There was no doubt this was a fantasy of his, and she wondered what else he had been dying to do to her. Her pussy twitched as she realized she might find out.
Y/N was brought out of her reflections as his cock throbbed against her tongue, bobbing in her mouth. She resumed licking and sucking, cramming inch by inch into her mouth. She got as deep as she could and breathlessly pulled back.
"It's too big.” She insisted, between pants. "I can't fit it all."
His hands stroked her hair, tugging her back on to his dick. Rafe smiled and that really should have warned her as he slammed his cock as deep as he could into her throat. She still only managed half, and gagged viciously around it, saliva starting to pool in her mouth. He pulled her off by her hair, laughing lowly at her indignant look, and dragged her back to his cock.
Each thrust buried his cock further in her throat, blocking her windpipe. She heaved, eyes beginning to roll with panic. She pushed against his thighs, digging her nails in and he let her go. She gagged again as she pulled away from his cock, and took in heaving gulps of air, blinking away the tears in her eyes to glare at him. He traced her swollen lips with his finger and smiled down at her.
"Keep going.” Rafe instructed.
She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him where he could stick his cock, before the sound of whistling air echoed in her mind. He took advantage of her mouth hanging agape, and crammed his cock back in.
"Keep your eyes open.” He commanded, his voice tight with need.
Y/N pried open her eyes, only for them to squeeze shut as she gagged and convulsed, another half inch sliding down her throat. Rafe pulled his cock out and watched with satisfaction as she came undone, heaving for air, drool dripping from her swollen lips, smeared all over her pretty face, her eyes glazed and faraway.
"Lick my balls.” Rafe instructed, and she was eager to comply.
Y/N sucked and swallowed at his balls, her fingers dancing along them as they gleamed wetly. She buried her face in them, heedless of the drool she was covering herself with. He tugged at her hair, bringing her back up. She drooled and gagged and writhed on his cock, feeling submissive and small, and hornier than she ever had in her life.
Her pussy dripped unabashedly, and without her realizing, one of her hands drifted down. The slightest touch sent a jolt through her, and she would have panted with need, if it weren't for the cock locked in her throat.
"Look at yourself.” Rafe grunted, voice strained with the need to cum.
And she did. She looked terrible. Her makeup was running in streaks, her whole face was shining and red with exertion. There was a manic glint in her eyes, and her pussy was dripping on the pillow as her fingers plucked and pulled at her clit. He reached down and tugged her hand away, placing her hands on his thighs instead.
"No playing with yourself. You were a little brat, so I get to cum first." Rafe growled, tugging on her hair harshly.
Y/N was filled with an impotent anger, and her fingers twisted and scratched at his thighs, curling into fists against his legs. She pulled back, catching her breath, then pounced on his cock again, taking out her frustration with her mouth. He reached his hands down to her neck, wrapping his fingers around her throat.
His hips snapped and her face was mashed into his pubes as she gagged and twisted under his hands. Rafe jerked, groaning her name so lasciviously that her fingers moved from his leg, trying once more to reach her dripping pussy as she felt his cock throbbing in her throat.
Rafe held her there for a while, hips snapping forward as he dumped his cum straight down her throat. As her throat relaxed, she felt him pull out and she collapsed against his legs. His fingers stroked her hair.
"You did so good, Y/N. I never imagined that you could swallow it all." He sounded worn out, too and he continued stroking her. "I'm so proud of you."
Rafe stepped away from her, causing her to whimper in protest. Shame burned hotly for a moment at her neediness, but then he was back, gently cleaning her face with a towel, wiping away her running makeup, and kissing each part as it was cleaned.
Unconsciously, Y/N leaned into the treatment, feeling light and untethered to everything except him. She rubbed her head against his thigh, almost purring with pleasure at his fingers through her hair.
"I knew you were perfect for me, but this just takes the cake.” Rafe muttered, easing her onto the bed.
She blinked at him, sleepy and content, hoping he would curl up next to her, but he settled between her legs instead, spreading them wide. She watched him as he stared at her hungry pussy, grasping for a cock or fingers to fill it. His fingers traced their way up her thighs, his eyes still locked on her streaming cunt.
As his fingers neared her throbbing entrance, she twitched. Her body was overstimulated, and her clit was a live wire, waiting to electrocute her. With gentle fingers, Rafe pried open her pussy lips and stared into her depths as she writhed on the bed, the ache traveling up her entire body.
Y/N needed to cum. She needed to come apart around his fingers and cock and tongue, again and again. He knew this and he was teasing her, pressing open mouthed kisses to her thighs, bumping his nose against her swollen clit, watching as her pussy desperately clenched with need.
"Beg for it. Beg for me to eat you out." Rafe whispered hoarsely.
She whimpered, hands clenching and unclenching, toes curled, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath.
“Come on, Y/N.” He whispered. "Give in to me. You know that you want me just as bad. Beg for me. I want to hear you beg me to lick your sweet cunt."
She whined, attempting again to thrust against him and he caught her, smacking her bruised ass.
"Y/N.” He said warningly, as his mouth began to slide from her.
"I want you to eat my pussy.” She muttered, turning her face to the blanket.
"What was that?" She could picture his lascivious smile and growled unintelligibly.
"Please.” She gritted out, pussy clamping against nothing.
"Please, what?"
"Will you eat me out? Please, Rafe.“
"I don’t know.” His deep voice vibrated through her, shattering her control as she waited with clenched teeth. “I think you can do better." Rafe pulled completely away from her, pressing kisses to her thighs, before pushing himself up.
"Please, eat me out. I need you to bury your face in my cunt. I want to belong to you, and only you. Please, eat me out and make me yours, Rafe.” Y/N struggled to breathe. She was blushing furiously, her entire body taking on a pink hue.
"That’s my girl." Rafe smiled and kissed her thigh again. "Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, you’ve always belonged to me. You’re mine, Y/N.” His voice was dark and possessive, and his hands shot to her thighs, gripping them with bruising force.
Without warning, his tongue dragged up the length of her dripping cunt and she almost screamed. Her throat was too hoarse, however, so what came out was a sad little squeak. Rafe blinked at that, a grin stretching across his face. Her pussy spasmed, and she shrieked into the bed as he lapped his tongue deeper.
Rafe’s tongue flicked around her clit, and her legs clamped either side of his head, locking him in place and drawing him in. She whimpered and squealed, hips thrusting against his lips, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, rotating his tongue around it, and sucking deeper.
Just as the pressure had become almost unbearable, three of his long fingers slammed into her pussy, curling deftly, stroking some secret spot inside her. She wailed and thrashed, clenching clenching around his fingers and face.
"That's it.” Rafe whispered, sounding proud and awed. "You're such a good girl, so fucking sexy.”
Y/N came for what felt like hours, before finally collapsing on the bed, shaking, her pussy quivering and spasming still. He extracted himself, his face dripping, and licked his fingers clean with a satisfied noise, his eyes dark and intent on her as he did.
"Did you know that you're a squirter, Y/N?" Rafe grunted, wiping at his face. She didn’t respond, but instead stared sleepily back, her eyes drifting shut as her lips curled up in satisfaction.
"What a fucking sight.” He mumbled quietly to himself.
Rafe grinned as her limbs dropped to the bed, her mouth agape, her eyes glazed. Her vision swam back into focus, and she glanced up at him. He was kneeling over her, staring. His gaze was possessive and caring, his eyes roving over every inch of her. She twisted around to bury her face in his chest, nuzzling against him with a contented sigh. He sighed as well, draping his arm over her, tracing her curves.
They stayed like this for a while as she dozed, worn out from a long day. Eventually, he got up and she whimpered in protest, catching his arm and looking at him pleadingly.
"I just have to grab something. I'll be right back, baby." The pet name sent heat to her cheeks, and she collapsed back, staring at him as he sauntered out to the living room, still naked.
Y/N started to whimper as he disappeared from the view, craving the feeling of his hands on her again. Her soft whimpers grew louder and louder, and he reappeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water and looking far too amused.
Rafe sat her up and helped her drink, stroking her hair and saying under his breath what a good girl she was, and the words reignited the fire that had burned down in her stomach, sending warmth through her.
Y/N’s eyes began to close, and she shot him a tired, satisfied smile. His hands traced down to her spine as he returned her grin, looking more alive than she could ever remember seeing him.
-
TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @tee-swizzle @pankowperfection @maybankslover @drewbooooo @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @softsatnin @glutenfreepeach @blueicequeen19
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pawified · 3 months
Note
bigbro! Choso bring gentle w his little sister at sex :( always giving praises and make sure he’s careful w her <3
ok m’ sorry for posting this so late , i was in nyc to see odd eye circle ( i will talk abt that some other time ) but i am back and ready to deliver. ( i put a bit of a spin bc who doesn't love a soft dom who has a bit of a mean side )
bliss. that's what choso feels. absolute bliss.
he gazes down at you, laid on your back with tears welding in your eyes. he knows it's wrong to be doing this, be intimate with his sister but this is what you want, what he wants.
he sees you struggling to stay afloat, he knows that the setting is too much to take in. so he leans down to embrace you into a kiss, his tongue slips into your mouth. you can't help but to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers into his hair and tug.
"careful baby." choso pants against your mouth, choso is anything but gentle, yet he finds himself treating you so tenderly, from the way he speaks to you too the way he handles you, it's all but innocent.
"choso, i need - i need you inside of me," You pant, pulling away to reach a hand down to attempt too tug his pants down.
he listens, but moves to slow for your taste. He pulls away from your mouth leaving a line of spit, his and yours too follow after. Then, grabs onto your ankles and lifts them until he can push against the underside of your thighs until your legs are pushed up to your chest.
choso rubs the head of his cock up and down the folds of your cunt. you both let out a string of curses. Choso's cock throbs against the heat of your cunt. he's so close to just shoving his cock into you until you can barely speak.
it was right there, his cock was right there waiting to be fucked inside.
"Oh God, Choso please," you sob, so desperate that you release the sheets from your dominant hand and reach down to try to push his cock inside.
it's pathetic; how needy you both were that you went to the point of where you guided his tip towards your cunt. and then how easily he gave in and watched your push the head of his cock into you.
both of his hands came back to the backs of your knees, pushing and pushing into your thighs were out of his way so he can properly watch your cunt suck in his cock. your hands reached past your body to grab ahold of his hips, urging him to slid deeper even though he was already prodding against a spot that had you crying out.
choso muscles of his upper thighs and lower stomach ripple against your fingers as he equally pushes inside a little more, he tries to restrains himself from bottoming out.
you mumbled out, "need you deeper" and " more, give me more"
"if i give you more, you can't- oh God - you can't keep squeezing me like this," Choso head falls back onto his shoulder as he squeezes his eyes shut. "need to let me in."
"i cant, soso, i-i'm so close" you slur his name. tears clinging to your lash line as you feel the warmth in your core become unbearable. you knew it was too soon; he just put it in, he just put it in and you were falling apart.
choso drops your thighs from his hands, falling over your bed until his hands plant on either side of your head. he then brings an arm down to your hips, wrapping it underneath you and kneeling onto the edge of the bed to shift you forward.
you instinctively wrap your legs around him around, drawing him in as he steadies the both of you at the center of the bed, then he pulls out only to fuck you through your first orgasm. His abdominals clench and tighten every time he draws his hips out, and there's a dull yet wet slap that fills the room once he pushes inside again.
"there you go, angel" He lets out a breathy laugh, "there you go, good girl" he lowers himself to his forearms, but takes his right hand to grab your jaw, squeezing so your lips puckered out. he gently coaxes your head upwards, leaning in and kissing you deeply as you struggle to kiss back; whimpers and sobs still leaving your throat.
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cinnamonest · 3 months
Text
Uhtceare
Yandere Ayato x Reader - "Failed escape attempt" series
(I still cannot publish posts that have people tagged. I don't know why, it just gives me an error popup saying it couldn't be processed. Apologies to those in my taglist.)
Warning: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, implications of forced/coerced marriage, masturbation voyeurism that’s also kinda forced, manipulative use of mental health and problematic way of addressing it, gaslighting and psychological manipulation, implied future forced drugging, there’s just a lot of my man being awful here
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“Ah, there you are.”
Of course. He would be right there at the entrance waiting, wouldn’t he.
You were hoping to get a few more seconds to put off the inevitable, but the reality of your situation was not so kind as to grant you that. It was all far too fast — the full events of the night before, the journey of being dragged back here — flanked on all sides by doushin all the while — all went by in a blur, leading up to this very dreaded moment.
You kept your gaze turned to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact. Your fingers curled, digging into the fabric around your thighs.
Nonetheless, without even hesitating nor willing it, you found your feet moving on their own. Perhaps it was instinct, to get away from the unfamiliar men that made you so uncomfortable and uneasy, and into the arms that, despite everything, were at least familiar, and thereby a comfort at the end of your long trial of distress and misery. Maybe you knew it was expected, and feared some consequence for not acting as you knew you should. Or maybe some of both.
Regardless, your feet shuffled forward, any thoughts muted in favor of instinct as you bounded over towards your husband — as much as you hated to acknowledge it, your one source of comfort. As you grew close, he reached an arm out, hand firmly planting itself on your back and pulling you in. Perhaps out of that same sense of fear at the thought of disobeying expectations, perhaps out of pure exhaustion, you allowed it without struggle coming to stand directly by his side, grasping at his clothes, burying your head against him and squeezing your eyes shut as if it would obscure the others’ view of you.
“I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how worried I was about her,” he spoke to the arrangement of men now standing a ways away, moving his hand on to rest atop your head. “I apologize for the inconvenience. The poor thing gets a bit irrational from time to time. You know how it is.”
The other men only gave a brief, curt sound of acknowledgement. One, the own standing closest to the two of you based on how close the voice sounded, seemed to deem it appropriate to give at least some response. “Of course, sir.”
Not that that actually made any sense, that such a bizarre thing to say could ever warrant an ‘of course’ as a reply. But they weren’t there to be sensible, to assess the situation and act according to any supposed principles. To help. They were there only to follow through with an assigned task, one that they had not even tried to conceal in their expressions and tones towards you was an unwanted inconvenience, and to turn a blind eye to any conclusions they might draw.
Maybe that too was intentional — the estate lord could have easily sent his private forces to be the ones to escort you back to the estate, yet he chose to allow the public law enforcement to return you. Perhaps he knew you’d grown to resent the family’s private forces, and thereby had no issue inconveniencing them, whereas he knew you’d feel more embarrassment and guilt having strangers be forced to bring you all the way back… yes, the more you thought about it, that certainly seemed like that was his intent.
“I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?”
“Not at all, sir.”
“Ah, I see, that’s good to hear.”
Your hands balled into fists.
The whole show made of it all was utterly humiliating — that too no doubt the intention — but you had no choice but to stand there. Doing something rash like running off to hide yourself from the embarrassment would only meet a worse consequence later.
The burning, bitter anger only made said embarrassment that much worse. It was consuming, maddening. Everything — this place, these people, their words and their attitudes, their dismissal of you as if you were a child or an animal — it made you so damn mad, and yet, you could do nothing but endure.
Your eyes burned. You blinked a few times in rapid succession. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you actually cried in front of these strangers. The back-and-forth between the two parties continued, but you did your best to tune out the words, knowing that listening would only hurt you further.
It wasn’t until there was movement that you returned your attention to them, pulling your head away from him to look — now they were turning, walking away.
Leaving you alone with him.
You then dared not avert your eyes from the ground, watching the men from your peripheral vision as they made their way down the path, growing smaller and smaller and they moved further away, until their footsteps were no longer audible.
All that remained was a heavy, palpable tension.
Avoidance was the easiest path — a foolish choice, of course, which you knew full well. It wasn't as if you could avoid the present reality forever, but nonetheless, you found yourself clinging to each precious second that ticked by, body growing stiffer as you braced yourself for the inevitable. Perhaps you could trick yourself into believing that if you just kept your gaze turned to the ground, nothing would happen.
But sure enough, you clenched your jaw as his hand moved upwards, and came to rest on your shoulder.
“Come on now. You're certainly tired. Let’s get you to rest for a while.”
His voice only made your stomach twist further. It was calm and gentle, not explosive or infuriated. It would have felt more assuring that way, if your fear could just be easily confirmed, rather than a calculated calm that felt far more dreadful and foreboding than any rage.
His hand moved from your shoulder, coming down to grasp your wrist. It wasn’t a sudden, harsh motion, nor was the grip itself strong enough as to be painful — but it was noticeably firm.
And then, he pulled. A soft tug, pulling you in the direction of the doors.
Your resistance was not a conscious choice, not something you thought about nor had any time to do so; it was only a reflex. Instinctively, your body stiffened, your feet dug into the ground, and thus his pull was met not with the meek obedience that was expected of you, with footsteps that followed where you were guided, but instead a firm resistance.
Your own realization of that resistance, what you’d just done, sent a sharp rush of fear through your veins.
And thus, for the first time since arriving, your gaze tilted upward, and your wide, frightened eyes met his.
His expression shifted. The amiable, pleasant smile half-faded, still present, but only barely.
“…Don't be difficult. Come on.”
Likewise, his voice dropped far lower, a dark and foreboding tone far removed from the one he’d spoken with just moments ago to the other men.
Your mouth opened, instinctively wanting to reply, but you couldn't summon a coherent thought. You were afraid, you were angry, you were so, so embittered and ashamed and wanted nothing more than to run to your room, close your eyes and burrow into the bed.
And for a moment, you considered the compliant option. If you just lowered your head and followed along, apologized and insisted you were just being petty or immature or whatever he would call it this time, and took whatever consequence was handed out, then you could do just that, confine yourself to your bed and try to forget it all.
But the shame only fueled the fury, like gasoline to a fire. It was his fault. As scared of punishment as you were, your pride could not stand for simply bowing your head, and as your mind raced, the sheer fury you’d been stewing in all throughout the night before, all the angry words you’d monologued in your head and vowed to spew at him when you saw him again, all came rushing back.
You swallowed, fingers curling even harder around the fabric around your thighs. Now that it was just the two of you, although you still fought it as best as you could, you couldn’t help that your eyes watered, burning as your vision blurred out of pure frustration and misery.
“I… I know you did all of this on purpose! I only got all the way out there because you let me, a-and…”
The words came out in a trembling, wavering voice, far weaker than intended.
He exhaled a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. His voice was still characteristically gentle, but you could hear his patience waning. “We can discuss this inside.”
“But I—”
“Inside.”
You stiffened, freezing in place. That was not a tone you heard often in your married life, more firm than normal.
You swallowed, gaze darting to the ground again, unable to summon a reply and not wanting to make eye contact again. With another heavy exhale, he pulled at your arm with a gentle tug, and this time, you followed, feet quickly shuffling behind his.
You didn’t say a word, though, through the full minute or so of walking across the courtyard, through the front doors, down the hall, only dimly lit today due to curtains hanging over the windows lining the walls. It occurred to you with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you were headed straight for your shared bedroom, rather than one of the estate’s many drawing rooms and lounges, which meant the anticipated conversation to come would be one you’d both want kept in privacy. Your stomach felt as if it were turning in knots, your chest compressed by an unseen force, each breath feeling strenuous and weighted.
And then, finally, you both came to a halt as you reached the last room at the end of the hall. You felt helpless, unable to do anything as you watched the handle of the door turn, stumbling in as you were guided forward by the hand that came to gently press on your lower back.
Likewise, equally pitifully, you could do nothing but stand there and wait as you listened for the door to close behind you, clenching your jaw at the trepidation in your chest from the footsteps on the floor behind you, but made sure to not let your fear swallow your fury.
“Now,” he began slowly as he moved around you to the other side of the room, voice now back to its usual tone, but still firm nonetheless, “I can tell you have a great deal you want to get off your chest, but you’ll have to forgive me for a moment… your well-being is my primary concern.” He looked you up and down, and his voice took on a note of concern that admittedly sounded sincere. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you, dear?”
You bit your lip at the affectionate term, and more importantly, at how unbothered he came across. Granted, you now knew just how much of the past twelve hours or so had been entirely within his control, so it made sense that he was never genuinely distressed, but admittedly, it was also disappointing. Part of you wanted him to have been panicked and worried, to get the satisfaction of knowing you’d successfully gotten under his skin.
Still, you shook your head, keeping your gaze to the ground as you gave a curt, frustrated reply. “No.”
“Good,” his eyes closed for a moment, taking a heavy breath of pause. “Well, in that case…” He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “I believe this would be the best time to give you a moment to explain yourself.”
You couldn’t miss the obvious foreboding in his voice, nor the way it made your body stiffen.
But you had already prepared for that — you knew it would be intimidating, that it would be awkward and shameful, but you had spent the previous few hours trying to preemptively harden your resolve against that. Besides, after it was interrupted earlier, you now had the chance to get back to what was essentially the pre-written script you’d memorized in your head of exactly every little thing you wanted to say to him.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, the you that was standing there in front of him was significantly less brave than the ‘you’ in the scenes you’d played out in your head on the journey home.
Still, you clenched your hands into fists, thinking you had to at least force him to acknowledge the one point you’d deemed most important.
“You let me leave.”
In your mind, you’d spoken with a bold voice and looked him directly in the eye… and while the same words came out of your mouth, they were instead said with a weak, shrill attempt at an accusatory tone, pathetically looking to the wall as you found yourself unable to summon the gall to look up, once more lacking the firm accusation and self-assuredness your imaginative self had had.
He tilted his head. “That’s not a very accurate way to put it. I never granted you any such permission… I was simply aware of your intent to run off, and didn’t stop you.”
For a moment, you contemplated asking how he knew — but you had a feeling the answer would only make you more upset. His voice was laden with a faux sincerity, a sort of disingenuousness that made your blood boil, enough to embolden you further as you continued.
“And you… you had people following me the whole time, I know you did!” Your voice began to get louder as you grew bolder, bitter anger strengthening you against any trepidation. “They didn't even do a good job! I started noticing them towards the end of it!”
"Well, that would be because they were specifically told that concealment was not necessary.” He kept up the dry manner of speech, seemingly unbothered by your fury. “They deserve a break from high effort jobs every now and then, surely you understand. Besides, they didn’t directly interfere with your little outing, yes?”
He was so calm in contrast to your visible irritation, no doubt at least in part deliberate. It only served to make you even more mad.
“They told the local doushin to — no, you told them to tell them! There’s no other way that could have happened! I-I, I got," in sheer frustration, you jerked your fists in a sharp downward motion, "arrested!"
“I’m very well aware.”
“They put me in jail!”
“I do believe that is the standard process for an arrest, yes.”
“I was all by myself for hours!”
“Naturally. I couldn’t allow you to be placed with any dangerous persons, that’s why you were put in a solitary space.”
You clenched your fists so hard they trembled. “You, y-you let me get that far in the first place, and, and…” A lump formed in your throat again, which you did your best to suppress. “…Just to make me go through all that… I was there for hours before they came for me…” Your face scrunched up as you fought the urge to cry.
You hung your head, shoulders falling as you let your body relax, the fuse of anger burning out as it turned to a quiet bitterness swelling in your stomach. What was even the point? You knew better than to think your emotions would be given any weight, treated as anything beyond trivial.
A few moments of quiet passed, perhaps to see if you would say anything more, or perhaps just to force you to wait in uncomfortable uncertainty. After a moment, he shifted his posture slightly before unfolding one arm, holding out his hand in a standard gesture of speech.
“And what have we learned?”
You never would have thought one question could send such a spark of fury through your body in a single moment. Everything, from the wording to the timing to his tone, felt utterly mocking, infantilizing in a way that made you seethe.
You swallowed, practically trembling. “That you’ll go to any lengths to humiliate me?”
He returned the extended arm to its former position, exhaling heavily, straightening his stance. “It's rather unfair to assume I had such malicious intent. Stopping you early on in the past has clearly not worked in the long term, so further measures were necessary.” He tilted his head to meet your averted gaze, reflexively turning your attention back to him, eyes connecting with yours. “My only intention was that you would have some time to reflect on your series of decisions… and hopefully return with a change of heart. These episodes of yours are worrisome.” He gave a brief pause before finishing, “claiming I had cruel intent when you know in your heart that I only arranged this because I care for you… that's rather harsh, isn't it?”
You clenched your jaw, refusing to acknowledge the notion that the words were genuine. Admittedly having fallen for the words die a moment, you mentally shook off the momentary feeling of guilt.
These situations always went the same way, you'd be driven to apologize and feel bad about your choices. You had never met anyone else in your life with such a mastery of speech-craft as to be able to control your emotions and actions with words as easily as if it were pushing buttons on a machine. The first few times, you'd actually fallen for it, found yourself completely malleable, psyche bending and shifting to another's whims. At least with time, you'd become more resilient, had learned to notice and recognize the attempts… so you believed.
You opted to avoid answering the quesiton. Instead of acknowledging his own words, you turned to another matter that had come to mind during your escapade.
“Aren’t you abusing your authority? How are you even allowed to do this to begin with?!”
He took another deep breath, as if it were a trivial matter, or one that shouldn’t necessitate explanation.
“It’s… complicated, but the law does fully permit estates to employ local forces to locate any missing property belonging to the estate… people employed or bound to it are a sort of grey area in that regard.” After a moment of pause, he added, “besides, I also made it very clear that you were not in your right mind at the time, so your wellbeing was of immediate concern, and they were happy to help.”
“What?” The anger in your tone only rose. “I was perfectly in my right mind, you, you… a-and I’m not…”
A few moments passed as you trailed off, having to pause to collect yourself, blink away frustrated tears.
He opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to decide against whatever he'd considered saying, closing his eyes and taking a breath before finally replying in a more exasperated tone.
“You're making yourself upset needlessly. I can only do so much… in the end, I only wanted to keep you safe. You have to be the one to accept the grace you're given. Wouldn't that be easier for you?”
There was still unease to his tone, but the way he said it was nonetheless indicative of a sort of tiredness, as if not wanting to carry on about the matter anymore. It almost sounded like he was saying that you “accepting” his “grace” was all that was required to bury the matter entirely.
You spoke slowly, cautiously.
“You’re not… mad?”
“…I never said that.” He shifted away from leaning against the wall, standing upright. ”Of course, I can’t allow this to go entirely unacknowledged.”
He took a few steps towards you, and you fought the urge to step back, keeping your arms rigidly straight at your side as he continued.
“Normally, a proper form of consequence would be in order… however, after consideration, I realized that this was in large part my own fault, and I owe it to you to take responsibility for that.”
The words took you by surprise. The idea that he was in any way acknowledging that he had any responsibility for what you did was baffling, all things considered. He had never once even acknowledged that refusing to let you leave the estate was essentially holding you prisoner, and usually insisted that everything he did was what was best for you, even if, as he seemed to believe was the case, you did not understand that.
You hesitated before replying. “What… what do you mean?”
He flashed you an amiable smile. “A lesser person would only act on their momentary frustrations, but I’m not the sort of person who acts without understanding the situation. Luckily, I do understand you.” He looked off to the side, holding a hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, before adding in a quieter voice, “I made the mistake of getting too caught up in my work recently. Acting out over feelings of neglect is entirely different from misbehavior out of sheer petulance.”
He turned his head back towards you again before finishing,
“It would be cruel to respond to a cry for attention as if it were ordinary disobedience.”
The words took you aback, and you hesitated in your response, but as it fully registered in your mind, the momentary surprise was replaced with shameful fury. You held your arms firmly at your side, hands balled into fists as you replied.
“What?! I didn't— I didn’t do it for attention!”
You felt foolish for thinking for even a second that he might actually empathize with you, might finally come to enough humility to realize that much of your perceived disobedience was due to the sheer degree of meticulous, total control he held over everything you did. But no, instead, your attempt to run away was being treated as attention-seeking. It felt belittling, degrading.
He took a short breath, as if about to say something, but as his gaze fell upon you again, he simply exhaled, an amused smile forming on his face, replacing the former exasperation — and only infuriating you further, realizing even your anger wouldn't be taken seriously.
“Yes, yes, of course.” He made no effort to hide the dismissive amusement in his voice, either, but cleared his throat before returning to a more neutral tone before you could give any retort. “Regardless, you've been through a lot already. If you can be mature and calm down, make some acknowledgement of the trouble you’ve caused and show some remorse, then, I'm willing to somewhat overlook this.” Making direct contact between your eyes and his, he finished, “Won’t that be easier on us both?”
The obvious dismissal of your statement and implications of what he thought made your face feel hot. The embarrassment that had already been weighing down on you now became suffocating, and the utter arrogance of the presumption of your willingness to comply made you so upset it felt nauseating.
“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” You tried to suppress the irritation in your voice.
He gave another heavy sigh. “Should you really be asking for specifics? It’s your best course of action regardless.”
You opened your mouth and inhaled as if to speak, holding your closed fists up to your chest, ready to spew every ounce of vitriol you’d been building up, and then, you fell silent as your eyes met.
His expression grew dark, eyes half-lidded and features blank — not contorted with anger nor curiosity, but merely waiting, watching, warning. Anticipating your defiance, prepared to react accordingly.
You looked down, hesitating.
Was it really worth it…? A few moments of lashing out, at what cost? ‘Consequences’ hurt, in one sense or another, they always did, no matter what form that word took.
You swallowed. He was right — one path before you was wiser.
You hung your head.
“…I’m sorry…”
Even with your gaze turned downward, you could see his eyes widen just a bit in your peripheral vision, not having expected such quick compliance — understandably so, based on your past incidents. But after a moment, his expression softened. He took another step, closing the gap between you, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to lift your head back up.
“Mm. I’m glad you understand. You know, you've matured quite a bit recently.”
You almost, almost found yourself feeling happy at the praise, but then pushed that feeling away. It was part of the way he did things, part of the process, so you'd slowly come to recognize, putting the pieces together over and over until you became aware of how he managed to bring you down to submission each time. You refused to be swayed by that. You were only giving it up and apologizing because it was the was the easier, less painful choice… so you reminded yourself. Now, at least, you'd be done with this, could move on and quietly begin plotting again.
But then, as you felt his hand move down to your shoulder, then to your waist, you remembered the ‘somewhat.’
Yes, of course it couldn’t be left at that, wouldn’t be so simple as forcing you into humility just once.
You knew that full well. These checks of obedience after an act of disobedience never came solitary, and the desire for that subservience to be affirmed was not easily satiated. It would only grow deeper, an increasing hunger for your subservience. Pushing your pride further and further down, carving into your personhood and whittling away anything deemed unfitting. It would only go further, debasing you in increasingly violating ways.
You felt a gnawing in your stomach. You hadn’t thought of that part, in the moment, but the realization now made your heartrate begin to accelerate once more.
His eyes drifted downward.
“…Ah, right. The clothes you’re wearing, we need to have a servant wash them for you. Just set them by the door for now.”
You looked down. You hadn’t even bothered to think about it until now, having been so preoccupied with other thoughts, but indeed, the oh-so-nice and expensive clothing you’d been so lovingly lavished with, was now fully coated in grime and dirt.
At the same time, your immediate instinct was to protest the idea, knowing the intent. He wasn’t going to get you a replacement — which he himself would need to do, seeing as all of your clothing was, no doubt deliberately, kept outside the bedroom itself, and it had been established early on that you were to rely on him or servants to fetch whatever he would have you wear that day for you. Was the command too, then, intentional?
The very moment you even asked yourself the question, though, came the immediate answer, making you feel foolish for even questioning it. Of course it was intentional, planned — what wasn’t, anymore, in your life? You remembered looking back, on the day you were brought here, thinking over the past with borderline horror at the realization of how intricately detailed and precise every detail had been in his effort — what you now were certain was a premeditated plan — to get your family to call off the years-long betrothal you’d already been in, and marry you off to him instead. That realization of it all had kept you rightfully afraid of him, knowing he was always one step ahead of whatever you might attempt.
The corners of your mouth pulled taut with embarrassment, and you pulled your hands in towards your chest again, elbows pressed firmly to your sides. “That’s…”
He caught a glimpse of your face, and in turn smiled, an amused sort of expression. “Come on now,” he took a step towards you, reaching out and grasping at your hands, pulling them out of their defensive position, “even now, you’re still so shy over this?”
“I— no, I’m not—” you cut off, teeth clacking together as you snapped your mouth shut when his hands released yours, instead moving around to the binding ties of your outfit, pulling the knot apart.
You held your hands up to the level of your shoulders, bent at the elbow, fingers curled as if preparing to reach forward, to grasp at his hands, to do something.
But you didn’t.
The exchange was itself a means of conversation, communicating something not fully articulable by word alone. Violating your comfort and dignity, baring you to him, those things themselves were an assertion, a statement. To interrupt would be to challenge that assertion, to deny him. And perhaps it was, in part, also a test, a question of whether or not you would dare to deny the unspoken statement.
As the silk strands came undone, the first layer gave way to the second, and pulling apart that knot caused the fabric bound by it to slide apart, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.
An unspoken reminder that your body was not your own, that any right to autonomy and privacy you might have beyond this room, no longer existed within it. Access to you was not a privilege granted by your permission, but an inherent right, provided by the very contract that legally bound you to him.
The casual, unhesitating manner with which you were stripped down only emphasized that that very reality itself was not something to be regarded as of any great significance, but a fact accepted as readily as any other. Exposing you, touching you, exercising that unconditional access to your body was given no greater thought than utilizing any of one’s possessions.
There was nothing he could ever say to you, nor adequate words to even exist, to fully encapsulate the degree to which you were owned — but with that gesture, you understood all the same.
And even though the humiliation of the reminder made your eyes burn, made you bite your lip, you lowered your hands to your side. An admission of defeat, surrender.
It did not go unnoticed. He smiled.
“Very good. You’re behaving much better today than I anticipated.”
Another moment of praise. He was genuinely pleased. You could see it and hear it through his face and voice.
Were it on any other matter, you might have felt proud to be praised in such a sweet, charming voice. If the praise were on something you actually wanted to achieve.
And then, his eyes trailed downward, running over your body, taking in each detail. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze settled on one particular spot.
“You really shouldn't lie to me,” he spoke in a quiet, low voice.
At first, you felt a momentary panic, not quite sure what he even meant, thinking you had somehow made a unintentional transgression. It wasn't until you looked down that you saw the scrape just below your collarbones from your, admittedly unsightly, vigorous resistance upon initial confrontation with the doushin the night prior, having essentially had to have been wrestled down to the concrete street. In hindsight, you were even surprised with yourself for putting up such a fight, but at the time it had just been the instinctive reflex, fueled by desperation.
It all felt distant now, as if further back in time than it was, the memory all blurring together. It was only a very small mark, and had now scabbed up as part of the natural healing process, but as his fingers brushed over the spot, you still tensed at the slight lingering sting.
“It doesn't really hurt,” you replied nonetheless. “It's fine…”
He only straightened back upright, closing his eyes momentarily.
“I suppose I shouldn't have expected common doushin to be able to follow instructions… just so you know, I did specifically say to ensure you weren't hurt in any way.” He turned his gaze downward, hand held to his chin as he added in a low mutter, “I'll be sure to only use private hands in the future, should I need something like this again.”
You shrugged, turning your eyes downward to the floor once more. Really, you wanted to not have to think about the incident any further, the mere memory stirring up embarrassment, which did not combine well with your already vulnerable state. “It's fine. It's not a big deal,” you grumbled. After a moment of hesitation, feeling another urge of spite, you added, “it wouldn't have happened if you didn't… do all that.”
He huffed in exasperation, but was quiet for the moment, seemingly composing his thoughts before replying.
“Don’t be disagreeable. We've discussed this. I care for you dearly, but that does not mean that you are exempt from expectations to behave.”
He always gave you that line — that a behavioral matter of yours had been previously ‘discussed,’ which merely meant he'd told you not to do something, or behave a certain way. That was the end-all-be-all — whatever you were told was set in stone the moment it left his mouth, and transgressing against the standard that was set was often treated as if you’d forgotten, as if it slipped your mind, the idea of intentional and deliberate disobedience being something unthinkable to such a degree that simply having done so by accident were more believable to him — and perhaps you ought be grateful for that.
You clamped your jaw shut, turning your head downward.
His gaze turned back to your body.
“…Your nerves are unsettled.” His hand slid it's way down your side, the feeling of touch lingering in a trail behind as his palm brushed over the curvature of your waist. “See, that's what causes these irrational episodes of yours. Stress, overexcitement. It just… builds naturally for you, over time.” After a moment, taking in your expression, he added, “it's nothing to feel bad about, dear. I don't mind helping you with it at all… I'm glad I can do so, really. I worry about how you'd manage without having me to help.”
You hesitated before giving a response. “What… what do you mean? I'm not… irrational…”
It was as if your words went in one ear and out the other, continuing on without responding to your objection. “But again, I failed to keep it in check this time, so this was ultimately my own fault… I'll have to make a note to be more thorough.”
His hand grasped at your waist, pulling you close. His other hand reached up, cupping your breast. He looked over towards your shared bed.
“Come on. Let's get you in bed.”
“Huh? But—”
His grip tightened. “Don't be difficult.”
Your stomach began to churn. You were still angry. The last thing you wanted was to go through what was essentially a humiliation ritual. There was something about the act itself — at least, between the two of you — that made you feel embarrassed and ashamed. The inherent vulnerability, for one, but moreover, because you knew the intent, you knew the way he viewed it in his mind, could practically feel the sentiment. An act of claiming, an exchange of power in which your loss of dignity became his gain of pride and control. Carving into your very personhood, marking you as something belonging to him.
Your opened your mouth, but whatever you intended to say was cut off by your small noise of surprise as you were pulled forward, in a manner that was somehow so gentle in touch, yet forceful enough to move your whole body towards his. His arm wrapped around your frame, the other positioning itself underneath your thighs before lifting you up and moving down to sit.
You fidgeted, tried to pull away — but his grip tightened, as much to secure you as it was a warning, telling you to hold still.
“It's for your sake. This will help you… you may not realize that yet, but you’ll thank me, I promise.”
His hands moved to your hips and turned you so that your back rested against his chest.
“As I was saying, you simply… build stress and neurosis, naturally. It's not your fault, really. You're just sensitive to changes, stressors... Every individual has at least some… defects in their nature.”
His hands retracted, and there was a brief rustling sound before they returned to your skin, now ungloved, flesh on flesh. The contact sent sparks through your nerves.
“That's why people pair with those they are compatible with. They fill each other's needs, compliment each other’s natures… I’m obligated to take those defects and resolve them.”
He gave you a smile — you couldn't see it, but could feel it as his lips pressed softly against your neck. Warm, full of sincerity and adoration.
“I wouldn’t do that if it weren’t out of care… and you in turn provide me with something that needs care and guidance. I enjoy having that.”
For all his attempts at soothing words and the gentleness of the touch, you knew in your heart that there was no doubt that that was part of the intent — to humble you, to tame you and make you docile, to make you submit. Forcing you to such a vulnerable state and inflicting reactions of pleasure was itself an act of exerting power and control.
It was, in a way, remarkable, that the human spirit could not only be broken by both brutal cruelty, but equally — or, perhaps even more effectively — eroded away with a gentle voice and touch, humiliation so deeply intertwined with affection that they became impossible to distinguish from each other, forming a unique sentiment that was both one and the other.
You were endearing to him, but that affection for you was like a venom that ran through your veins — an affection that diminished you, reduced you to some inhuman possession, a toy to be manipulated in any way he desired.
It made you feel sick. It made you feel angry, it tormented your psyche—
Your thoughts were turned to a haze as his fingers rolled your nipple between them. You inhaled a sharp gasp, back arching forward.
Processing your own reaction, embarrassment took place of the momentary pleasure, and your face felt hot. You reached an arm up instinctively to cover your breasts, pulling away from the touch.
“…We've had this conversation before, haven't we?” He reached up, grasping your jaw with a grip just firm enough to communicate a warning.
You swallowed and, albeit not without just a moment of hesitation, lowered your arm. You looked down, breasts now exposed fully. “I'm… sorry…”
He gave you a hum of approval, returning to the former fondling, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, breathing growing labored.
After a few minutes, his hands wandered downward, slowly, softly, down to your thighs, then back up over your hips, where they finally settled.
“Touch yourself.”
The command caught you off-guard. Your eyes widened. “…What?”
“Before I help you,” he murmured, “I want to see what you will do for me. That's only fair, don't you think?” He squeezed at your waist.
“Prove to me…” he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear, “that you know your place. Do as I say.”
You swallowed.
It was in your best interest to obey.
You reached down slowly, shivering as your fingers brushed over your clit. You pressed down, beginning to rub your outstretched fingers back and forth. With your other hand, you reached up, tweaking your nipple just enough to send pleasure through your nerves.
“There you go.” He pulled you a bit closer to him, so your bodies were firmly pressed together. He craned his neck, no doubt catching your abashed, embarrassed expression.
Not that he would give you any words of comfort on that matter, tell you not to feel embarrassed. He only smiled, grasping your hair and forcing your head to turn, pressing your mouth to his. It was only a short contact, parting with the softest of sounds.
His grip on your hip tightened, and you realized why he’d pulled back when he spoke.
“Don’t stop.”
You hadn’t realized you had, too focused on the slight surprise to being kissed. You took a shuddering breath, and resumed the motion. Your eyes closed, heightening your senses — the sensation of each touch and the shockwaves it sent through your core to every nerve in your body.
Your breathing quickly became labored. Even if you were inducing the sensation itself, it was good. You bit your lip as a soft, weak little sound came out of your throat, unable to refrain from vocalizing at the intensity of the feeling.
“Not just like that.” One of his hands reached down to your thigh, hand wrapping around the underside of it and pulling it to the side, spreading you open further. “Go on.”
“Mm…” You couldn’t summon any particular words, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations — the heat to your face and knot in your stomach at the shameless way your body was so exposed, at the feeling of being watched as if the act were a performance, and the haze of arousal that rapidly began to cloud your judgement, obscuring the feeling of discomfiture, drowning your inhibition.
Even without the pleasure compromising your hesitation, you didn’t want to think about the alternatives if you refused to obey — this was thus far, comparatively, far from the worst consequences you’d ever received for acting out.
You reached down further, pushing two of your fingers past the slick coating your flesh and inside your body, curling them into the spot that made you tense, made your muscles spasm, over and over, each movement sparking a rush that surged throughout your body.
Each breath was a deep gasp. Your toes curled, your muscles went taut and your insides clenched around your own fingers.
But something was missing.
It was pleasurable, but there just wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. The sensations were too weak.
Your body had been conditioned something more, and this was not comparable.
Sweat began to accumulate on your skin as you kept curling your fingers, desperately chasing a high. His arm moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, pressing another kiss to your neck.
You tried. Frustration began to build. Your eyes watered as you curled your fingers as hard as you could, pressed as far in as they would go, down to the knuckle.
It wasn’t deep enough.
It wasn't what you were used to. Your fingers were too short, just short of reaching that one perfect spot that made you lose yourself in pleasure, melting to a mewling mess.
You shuddered. You couldn’t reach a climax, no matter how hard you tried to focus. Even without orgasm, though, your exertion reached a peak you couldn’t carry on further from, and your fingers stopped moving as you went limp, trying to catch your breath, frustration and desperation nearly enough to make you cry. Your head fell back, eyes closed as you panted.
You could feel the corners of his mouth upturn against the flesh of your neck.
“…Is something wrong?”
Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
That was the other goal of it, besides proving yourself to him — it was also to prove something to you. Something you didn’t want to admit out loud, something that made your chest swell with bitterness just to admit to yourself, much more so to do so aloud.
“I can’t… I can't do it.”
“Mm.” He pulled you further back against him. “Then, what do you need?”
The tingling sensation, the desperate need, the remnant frustration of lost pleasure, was too much to bear. You swallowed your pride, closing your eyes as you forced the words out.
“…I need you to do it…”
You were expecting him to say something in return, but for a moment, he was only quiet. He began to drum his fingers back and forth against your waist.
“Is that so?”
You nodded again, which seemed to be to his displeasure—
“Use your words.”
“Yes…” You swallowed.
You waited, but no touch came.
“Hm. How odd.” His voice was low and quiet, but unmistakably derisive. “You seemed to think you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself, running off like you did.”
Your eyes welled with tears. You shook your head back and forth, unable to bring yourself to speak.
“No?” His hand trailed downward until it ghosted over your sex, the lightest of touches, borderline torment. “Then, you can't do this for yourself?”
“…No…”
He moved his face even closer, speaking directly into your ear.
“Then what do you say? Tell me exactly what you need. Show me.”
You swallowed. The burning of humiliation in your chest was almost too much to bear. Had your insides not still been alight with the wavering, tight feeling of need, your pride would have outweighed your desire. But in that moment, it did not.
You spread your still-quivering legs wide apart.
“…Please touch me.”
“Mm. And what do you want from that? For how long?”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“I want to cum.”
Finally — finally — his fingers pressed down against your clit, enough pressure to send waves of pleasure up your spine.
“There, see…” He pressed another kiss to your face. “Aren't things so much easier when you just choose to be honest?”
You nodded. “Yes. I… I’m sorry…”
He gave a low hum of acknowledgement. “This stubbornness is just your nature.” His fingers slid back and forth, gracing the bundle of nerves with friction. “But that can be fixed.”
You bit your lip. “I… I’m not— ah—”
One motion of his hand was particularly firm, the sensation it sent through your nerves so intense it was almost painful. Your hands shot forward, grasping at his wrist.
It was only when the motion stopped that you realized you’d erred — it was a habit of reflexively grabbing at his hands when a sensation was too intense, trying to pry them off — something he very much did not like you doing.
Sure enough, he sighed, frustration blatantly evident. You jerked your hands away, but it was already too late to take back the first offense.
“…Now,” he started, “Can you refrain from doing that again, or do I need to bind them?”
“I…” you paused, realizing you genuinely needed to think it through. You weren’t certain if you could abstain.
You felt him shift back, leaning away from your body.
“Well, that’s enough of an answer itself.”
You heard the rustling of clothes, felt movement behind you, and you turned your head over your shoulder just in time to see as he pulled off first the top layer, then the undershirt over his head and off his body. You made a soft sound as he then pushed down on your back with a firm touch, forcing you to lean forward, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind your back — firmly, enough to be a clear message to not try to dissuade him, but your pride, weak as it was, still couldn't let it happen with no objection at all.
“Wait, wait, I can do it, I don't need—”
“This is for your sake. Hold still.”
“But I—”
“Be still.” He spoke firmly, but softened his voice as he continued, “It’s not your fault for having that reflex… but you have to train yourself against it. You want to be good, don't you?”
You shut your mouth, nodding as you sounded an answer. “Mm-hm…”
Cloth wrapped tightly around your wrists, using one sleeve to bind them together. Not enough of a bind that you couldn’t break out with some effort, but just enough to keep you from reflexively trying to interfere.
“Now where were we…”
You were pulled back once more, perhaps even closer. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.
And his hand quickly moved back down, and the bliss of shockwaves of pleasures overcame you once more. You whimpered, biting your lip.
His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing circles into the nub, and for a moment, your wrists jerked against the bind as the reflex kicked in. It was too much at once, but now, you were prevented from doing anything about it. As he began to rub in circular motions, your body shuddered, and an involuntary moan came out of your throat — a wanton, shameful sound, laced with pleasure and lust.
“There you go.” You could feel him speak, shuddering at the vibration of his chest against your back and the warm breath against your ear. His other hand rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb. “Give into it.”
Your body trembled against his touch, and jolted as his own fingers pressed inside of you. His were longer, and the touches firmer, and the result was a degree of pleasure you were simply incapable of replicating on your own.
As much as you hated it — hated to think it, hated to acknowledge it, hated to try and not acknowledge it as the reality prodded at the back of your mind — he made you feel better than anything you had ever experienced, better than anything you could ever make yourself feel.
You whimpered, toes and fingers curling. Your hips moved, a rolling motion to meet each pressing movement.
A singular motion, and singular sound, both of which you near-immediately caught yourself doing, having been too lost in the feeling to think clearly. You cut off your voice and went still, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t.” He didn’t stop moving his fingers as he spoke, instead pressing down with harsh force, essentially pulling you back closer to him with the hand partially inside you. “Holding yourself back like that is another form of dishonesty.”
You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, but unable to form a response before he continued.
“And you wouldn’t want,” the fingers that had been gently tweaking at your breast pinched down hard, a momentary spark of pain and the lowering of his voice making you go tense, “to make this unpleasant because you couldn’t be good for me, would you?”
You shook your head back and forth with vigor. There were many punishments in your domestic repertoire that were unpleasant, and the thought of any of them made your heart skip a beat. “No, no, I don’t… want that…”
“Then you’re going to be honest, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, I promise…”
“Mm.”
He kept rubbing his thumb against your clit, even in perfectly synched timing to each motion his fingers curled inward inside of you.
It was so pleasurable, so intense, it made you angry. Mad that he was capable of it, mad that his control over your body was greater than your own, and most of all, mad that he did it with such ease, effortless, that making you come undone entirely was something he mastered without ever being taught.
That pleasure began to build and build. You squirmed and whimpered, muscles throughout your body tensing and relaxing over and over. Your hips rolled into his hand. Each movement built the pressure in your body higher and higher, rapidly reaching a peak.
The edge that climax made you quiver, body and legs trembling.
“There it is…” his voice was so soft and gentle, soothing in a way it had no right to be.
The noise that came out of your mouth was nearly animal-like, a whimpering cry as you threw your head back, quivering and spasming. The waves of sensation pulsated throughout your body, reaching a peak and then beginning to ebb away.
You went limp, bodyweight falling back against his chest, heaving with heavy breaths. Your head felt as if it were spinning, and you stared forward in a dull stupor, body trembling with aftershock.
You twitched at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you, with a wet squelching sound that made you shiver.
“Look at that…”
He spread his fingers apart, clear fluid forming a trail between them. You bit your lip, tilting your head downward in a futile attempt of avoidance of what you knew well came next — but that effort was quickly negated as he grabbed your jaw, turning your head back up and squeezing your face.
“Open.”
The force of the grip as he squeezed down more or less forced your jaw apart anyway. You didn't even get to take a breath before he pushed his fingers into your mouth, salty taste spreading over your tongue.
“Clean them off.”
Maybe it was a way of forcing you to acknowledge your own bodily reaction, even if you tried to deny it to yourself. Maybe it was much simpler than that — just another way to degrade you, or something simply arousing for him because it just was.
You complied nonetheless. Your tongue swirled around each finger, sucking and swallowing the taste of yourself. Even as he pulled his fingers back out, a string of saliva connected them to your tongue.
And then, after wiping his fingers off on the fabric around his thigh, he returned the arm to your waist, pulling you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“See… so much more at ease now, aren't you?”
That was one way to put it. You couldn't even bring words to your mind. Even processing what he said felt like a significant effort. Everything felt far away, your mind like a blank slate, numb and empty. Your body was even more exhausted, totally lax aside from involuntary twitches.
You made a soft sound as he turned your body to the side, just enough to look you face-to-face. Looking down at your watery eyes as they met his, the stupor in your expression, even as your brain began to clear, as if a machine turning back on after a few moments of darkness.
And he smiled. It was soft, full of endearment. And belittling. It was not made any better by the small chuckle he gave, patting the top of your head.
It burned in your chest, down into your stomach.
Your eyebrows furrowed and your lower lip quivered, an admittedly petulant pout. Shame formed a knot in your stomach. Disappointment in yourself, ending up like this again after swearing so many times over that this one would be the last, the last time you'd come apart so easily, the last time you'd find yourself spent and susceptible to the touch that seemed as if it were designed for your body.
And he laughed. An amused chuckle, patting your head.
“Mm. I had a feeling that wouldn't be quite enough.”
He leaned in, firmly grasping at your arms as you tried to squirm, bringing his mouth so close to yours, forehead resting against yours.
“But, that does admittedly work out for my sake.”
You grunted in surprise as he hooked his arm under your legs again, this time only lifting you just enough to set you down onto the padding of your bed, gently pushing on your shoulders until you were flat on your back, arched over your hands bound behind you.
“A-ah, I…” You swallowed, grasping at the sheets to the best of your ability. It was nothing you weren't anticipating, but the vulnerability made you tense.
It didn't help that he paused any motion, eyes trailing over your body, before reaching down and running his hands over your flesh, one moving to grip at your waist, the other your opposite hip. You couldn’t reach to cover yourself, forced to lay bare and vulnerable. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, but firm hands grabbed at the undersides, pushing them apart and positioning himself between them so you couldn’t close them again.
The former act was not enough. Putting you through the ordeal of being made to wait in jail like a child in time-out was not enough, exposing your body was not enough, toying with your body and forcing an acknowledgement of his own control was not enough.
Your lip trembled.
But anger still pervaded through your negative emotions. It compelled your courage, you felt defiance surging up. You had to look him in the eye, tell him exactly what you felt, tell him you knew what he was doing and push him off, then, maybe then you'd have the satisfaction of some sense of control.
You could do it. You had to.
“You… you're just doing the same thing as before!” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re trying to, to—”
“Again with this?” He tilted his head. “I really wish you wouldn’t assume such ill intent. This is how people love each other… you know that.”
You bit your lip. You almost, for just a second, fell for it, almost felt guilty. You shook your head forcefully, clearing your mind of the thought.
“No, I won't let you—”
And with that, there was a rapid shift in expression. His eyes narrowed in a piercing, foreboding look. You went silent.
Your shoulders stiffened. The words came out on impulse, resolve of defiance broken as quickly as it had formed. “I'm— I'm sorry—”
Dammit.
For once, the dark expression did not shift back to pleasant as soon as you apologized — an indicator of having gone too far. His hand slowly reached up, this time not in a loving caress or gentle-but-firm grip, but outright harsh grip on your jaw.
“You…”
He tilted his head forward to more directly look you in the eye. His voice was low and cold, making your heart race further.
“Do not ‘let’ anyone do anything.”
His fingertips pressed into your flesh, squeezing your face between them.
“I know you understand your place. Don’t behave as if you don’t.” Finally, his voice softened as he finished, “I can’t help you if you keep fighting me every step of the way. So… you’ll control yourself, won’t you?”
You swallowed, nodding your head, twitching as the motion made his fingernails dig into your cheeks.
“You know I don’t like being so harsh with you, don’t you?”
You nodded again.
“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Only for a short, chaste moment, but a slow, sensual motion nonetheless. You closed your eyes, tuning out the rustling clothes, heavily breathing with anticipation.
“You’ll have to forgive me for this. This whole ordeal has been stressful for me as well.”
You didn’t get time to ask what he meant — he rammed himself into you all at once, completely stuffing your body in one rough, forceful motion.
You cried out, back arching and body stiffening. You felt your insides clamp down, pulsating against the intrusion.
His hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding you still as the momentary sting ebbed away.
“There you go… calm down.”
You felt him slide out, then push back in, the latter movement sending sparks of sensation running up your spine, causing you to go tense all over again.
Your breathing became ragged, legs twitching and spasming at the sensation. You tried, without thinking, to snap them shut, but it only resulted in effectively squeezing his waist with you thighs.
The intensity of the sensation naturally induced a reflex of strain and exertion to your muscles, a need to channel the feeling through your body, causing your toes to curl, your thighs clamping down harder, quivering at the bare touch of flesh to flesh. You closed your eyes, but couldn't drown out the sound of skin making contact to yours, the sound itself increasingly accompanied by a wet squelching as skin met fluid with each passing second, leaking out of your body.
“You're so much more honest like this.” You could hear just the slightest strain in his voice, otherwise so very composed to perfection. “So meek… it's lovely. Once that resistance in you is fixed… you'll be perfect.”
You could see the corners of his mouth upturn into a look of amusement.
“You should see yourself.”
Your body stiffened, but all you could do was whimper. The words felt like a cold knife to the stomach — and you knew he knew that. Knew that that moment was you at your must vulnerable, the peak of awareness of your own helplessness, the moment you felt the most degraded, and yet, it still wasn't enough.
He leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, so close you could feel the warmth as he spoke, never ceasing to move all the while.
“Whimpering and drooling like that,” he murmured. “You're trembling… and that expression on your face is so adorable. Like you can't even think straight.” He leaned back up, enough to look you in the eye — now welling with tears.
And again, he only smiled.
“How precious.”
His hands ran down your body, grabbed at your hips, and began to pull you, jerking your body back and forth to meet his own movements.
It was too much. Even with the knot of emotion in your stomach, you felt a hot, tingling pressure build in your body. Your legs quivered, the wanton little sounds from your throat higher and higher.
You didn't want that. It was the final part of this ritual that so demeaned you, one more confirmation of his control of you. You pressed your hands into the mat, trying to push yourself back — but it was only met with a harsh pull, forcing your body back until you practically slammed against his hips.
“Don't fight.”
It was the last thing you heard. You threw your head back as the sensation became overwhelming, back arching and eyes rolling back as the feeling reached a peak. You could only faintly register the high-pitched sound that sounded as if it couldn't be you, a voice you didn't recognize.
And then it began to ebb away. A hazy stupor filled the void as the pleasure dissipated, a feeling of exhaustion. Your weight went limp.
You made a soft sound as he grasped your jaw again, turning your head just enough to place another kiss to your lips.
“There you go. Look at you now… all that stress and in you, totally gone. You can see it in your eyes, even.”
He paused before adding,
“Well, gone for now. I'll have to start monitoring for it more closely.”
You shuddered at the sensation as he slid out of you, fluid spilling out onto the sheets.
You felt him reach behind you, untying your wrists — you brought your arms to the front of your body, but the forearms only laid useless, having fallen asleep from your weight.
He came to rest beside you, upper body slightly propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, looking down at you with adoration and endearment.
And you were so, so weak. So much weaker than you wished you were, body, mind and spirit alike. So weak that, in the rush of emotions that followed, you found yourself slowly crawling forward, burying your face against his chest with a pathetic little noise.
“Poor thing. Maybe that was a bit too much for you…”
His arm reached behind your back and pulled you close, and the comfort you felt seemed to melt your mind into nothingness.
“You should rest for a while,” he continued, “then we'll get you cleaned off. We have a few hours before you'll need to be ready.”
After a moment to process the words, you tilted your head up with the softest of inquisitive noises. The cold, creeping dread began to spread through your stomach once more.
He seemed to realize, then, that you didn’t understand.
“Ah, right, you wouldn't have known.” He reached out with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, brushing his fingers over your scalp. “While you were gone, I sent someone to arrange a house visit with a psychiatrist… a private one that works for families such as ours.”
His words certainly didn’t help soothe your nerves. Your mouth felt dry. Your voice came out weak, hesitant, part of you not wanting to ask, lest you learn an unpleasant answer.
“…Why?”
He tilted his head in just the slightest, loose strands of hair shifting and waving with the motion. “Well, keeping your needs in check does help with your condition, but I’ve realized it would do you good to have a secondary means to treat your hysteric tendencies as well.”
“My…” You swallowed. “My what?” The words slowly pieced together in your mind, hitting you with a sense of dread and confusion. You squirmed backwards, shifting just a bit away from him. “There's… nothing wrong with me…”
“Of course, of course, there’s nothing wrong, that’s…” He spoke in a reassuring sort of tone, as if to comfort you. “…A harsh choice of phrasing. You just need some help, is all.” After a moment of pause, he added, “don't worry, it's perfectly normal that you aren't self-aware of it. That's usually how these illnesses work.”
His arm reached out further, pulling you back towards him, pressing your bodies together before he continued.
“He’s just required to see you in-person for a little while before giving you anything. Regulations and all. We’re just going to get you something to make you a little more… docile.”
His arm wrapped around your body, and he pulled his head back just a bit to look you in the eye, smiling with endearment.
“Ah, I can tell by your face that you’re nervous. Don’t worry, I'll be there throughout the whole thing… I'll answer any questions, you just sit there quietly, alright?” He pulled you a bit closer, planting an affectionate, short kiss to the top of your head. “I know that sort of thing is a lot on your nerves.”
If your trembling could be felt, he didn’t say anything about it, only carrying on with his gently-spoken words.
“We won’t have to worry about you having these… irrational escapades anymore. And you’ll be so much happier, too.”
You felt his hand on your back, firmly in place — you were pressed so close together that there was no need to pull you any closer, but perhaps he wanted to be sure you couldn’t pull away.
“So… rest for now, alright?”
Mind and heart alike racing, in your stupor, you let the pause linger for too long. The hand on your back began to close in on itself, fingernails brushing against your skin just enough to send the faintest of pains up your spine.
You had no strength left in you to give anything other than the correct answer.
“Okay...”
He only gave you a hum of acknowledgement, and began to stroke your back up and down, a pattern that should have been comforting and soothing, yet was anything but. Exhaustion wore on your body, but even as you forced yourself to close your eyes, true rest was nowhere to be found.
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rikichie · 8 days
Text
Just don't ask me how that huge plush was thrown there
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Under the cut, things I imagine in YOI pre-canon, with the ways my thoughts tie into canon to explain why I think them. These are personal headcanons and interpretations.
With Viktor, I imagine his family being high achieving, and Viktor having a lot of expectations on him. And he matches then successfully. But this means his parents think he's doing well, even in moments where emotionally he isn't. They look at achievements rather than looking at him. It's not intentional neglect, they just don't have the awareness of mental wellbeing. He has a bed and food and he's doing well in school and skating, so everything must be okay. It's fine when he's fine, it's lonely when he's not. And it's the first environment that teaches him to match himself to what's expected and wanted of him, fulfilling a role rather than just being.
When he's older, he quietly creates distance. Not cutting them off, but not reaching out. They don't mind. They follow news, and they can show off his success.
When he's young, Viktor loves having fans and being known and admired. Af first he doesn't see downsides to it. And then something happens, as simple as "did you see him throwing the flower at Christophe Giacometti? He was flirting, how cute" - and Viktor realizes his fans will draw their own conclusions and won't believe him if he tries to say they're wrong.
So he starts adjusting his approach. Building a persona, and building walls. Charming smiles that get him anything he wants. Practicing the skill of giving people what they expect. Being what they expect. And then flipping it on its head and surprising them.
If you're focusing on matching and subverting expectations, you're not necessarily being yourself. Any personal exploration of identity is hidden and alone. But on the ice, when he's performing, he can be honest. He can be seen. Because they're going to take it as fake. Think of how Minako reacted to Stammi Vicino - Viktor's earnest plea for someone to stay by his side, well, he's too charming for this to tug at the heartstrings. So he can play with stories that he won't share with anyone any other way, and he knows they'll take it as pretend.. The walls he builds don't allow him to be truly close to people. He has good relationships with other skaters, but emotionally keeps them at arm's length. He doesn't notice he's isolating. Chris and he have fun joke-flirting, but when Viktor steps away from the ice Chris doesn't seem to realize he needs this, isn't close enough to know what he's struggling with. He talks like Viktor is taking away the motivation he's entitled to by choosing to coach Yuuri. His rinkmates see him on good and bad days so they know when he struggles, and Yakov is the only person close to knowing him deeply, but even he doesn't take it seriously when Viktor burns out, so that is still limited.
For Yuri, I think his mother was going through a lot to let his grandfather take care of him. He has a lot of responsibility in that setting, and it all starts when he's so young.
I think, with Viktor being present in his life consistently from such a young age, Viktor is one of the people he sees as family. He absolutely looks up to him, just like he absolutely looks up to Yuuri. And I think he resents the emotional distance Viktor maintains.
He's not very attentive to people in general, but he's the one that explains to us how Viktor feels early in the show. When Viktor left to Japan so suddenly, I think Yura felt abandoned beyond just Viktor forgetting to choreograph a program for him. If it was just the program - he did end up getting Agape, he could have just asked for that, but he tried to get Viktor to go back. I feel like he hates that Viktor went to look for a way to get his spark back somewhere else, instead of staying and finding a way out of his slump with his rinkmates. If what Viktor needs is to coach someone, why isn't Yuri good enough? He's a talented skater and he sees himself as continuing Viktor's legacy, but Viktor chose someone else for that role.
And Viktor did choose Yuuri to continue his legacy. Because Yuuri skates so beautifully, because Yuuri has so much love for Viktor's skating, because Yuuri has drive and ambition and pride and skill and he finds joy in skating, and Viktor wants to nurture all of that into the performance Yuuri deserves to show.
And along the way, he learns how to connect with people as himself. His relationships with Yuuri and Yuuri's family open doors for him to better and deeper relationships with Yuri and Chris and anyone else he wants to be close to.
About Yuuri, there's very little I can say because we know so much. So I'll just share a lighthearted headcanon a few friends and I came up with as a story idea and I just adopted.
I don't share the fanon that Phichit got him into pole dancing. In my mind, he either started himself, or it was Chris - unintentionally. I think they're friends, because of how Yuuri reacted to him in the show, like he's used to him. And I like to think Chris kept saying things that made Yuuri feel competitive. Talking about how it's great for core strength, "but it's probably not your thing." Sent pictures of himself performing difficult moves, and got pictures back because Yuuri was trying to match him or do more difficult things than him. And meanwhile Chris thinks they're showing off to each other for fun. It's how Chris knew Yuuri can keep up with him at the banquet.
I still want to write something for that last bit.
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kelppsstuff · 2 months
Note
Overlord reader had herself mix up "Fuck off" and "Fight me" and it came out as "Fuck me"
Wonder how Adam would react to that, or lute
Enemies to lovers anyone?
- sweetheart anon
Fuck me
Masterlist
Warnings: blood, NWSF, semi- public sex
Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @leathesimp @michelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger
Adam x reader | Lute x reader
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Adam wasn’t expecting it, to be jumped by a woman sinner. It was the rare occasion he broke off from his group of angels, but he did this time.
You took this as an perfect opportunity to strike. They were making this year u reasonably brutal, you had to step in. So when he ventured away you took that moment to strike from the shadows.
Adam heard a twig snap from behind him. He turned his head quickly, but his feet were already knocked down from under him.
You pinned him to the ground and pushed a angelic knife to his neck, drawing blood. “Call this damn thing off and go home.” Your eyes glowing (E/C).
It wasn’t often you’d use power to get what you want, but you were an overlord, use it to your advantage.
Adams teeth clenched, he rolled you off him quickly, knocking the knife away from you. As you stood and grabbed you by the shirt, throwing you into a nearby wall.
You eyes snapped shut in pain and when you reopen them you saw his fist flying towards you. You dodged and grabbed him from his back. Slamming him towards the ground.
He took you down with you, and you two struggled. You ended up in a position with you strangling him with your legs, while he pushed your neck up — trying to snap it — with his own legs.
“Sir?!” Adam heard Lute called from around the corner. You kicked it into high gear and twisted your body around. When Adam leaned back up he was met with a nasty head—but from you.
Black smoke pulled around you and when Lute ran down the alley way to Adam you were gone. no where to be seen.
After that extermination, everyone after that for the next seven years Adam would find you.
The two of you would fight your anger out on each other.
Him angry at you for being a nasty sinner. You being angry at the fact he a angelic asshole.
It had became a date the two of you would look forward too. Over the course of the years, you two have found yourself in intimate positions. Such as you being pin down. You straddling him. Etc.
The sexual tension was there and you both knew it. Adam could feel himself losing his cool. He tried his damn hardest to act indifferent around you, but you just brought a fun wild side of him he hadn’t known in a very very long time.
“You ready babe?”
You smiled over your shoulder at the angel flying above you. “Ready to get you ass kicked?” Adam glare sharpen at you. You felt the same excitement of that intense stare build inside your stomach once again.
Adam didn’t give you a response. Well not true, he gave you a physical one.
He charged at you throwing you into the brick wall. You could already feel your back bruise as you fell to the grown. Some parts of the wall falling with you. Fuck that hurt.
Using the adrenaline you could feel build up inside you, you appeared behind him, elbowing his side. The grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.
Kicking his feet out he dropped to the ground, on his stomach, while you got onto his back, keeping his arms pin. “Ya done?” You spoke in a low tone. Your breath brushing his ear through the mask. He once again could feel that tension.
“Fuck me.” He said it in such a serious tone it made you stop. Like your whole mind functioning went complete stop.
Adams eyes widened at what he said. “I-I meant Fuck off!” You rolled him around and straddled his lap. Your mind finally rebooted, but in a complete different mode.
“You would like that? For me to fuck you?” You tilted your head innocently but your grin held an evil-ish glint, while your eyes were almost begging.
Adam throat tightens and he did the only thing he knew best. Made it a challenge. His hands gripped your hip and brought you down more onto him. While lift his hips up, rubbing slightly against you. “I’d be doing the fucking.”
His voice held a rasp that made your stomach twist in the most pleasurable way.
“You think you could handle that old man?”
That had fucking did it with him. He was stick and tired of your damn mouth. Always talking, always giving him an attitude, always looking as if it was made for him to fuck.
He rolled you around and pushed your back to the ground like he just was. He ripped off his mask.
Holy. Shit.
Your eyes widened, a blush forming all over your face, while you started to breath faster.
“Your gorgeous.” You hadn’t mean to say it out loud, but with that smile he gave you, it was 1000% worth it. You imagined what it would be like to sit on that face. But you couldn’t do that now.
If you were going to cum, it was going to be on his dick, and both of you knew that.
“I know I’m hot as shi—“ you pulled him down to your lips. You couldn’t breath but you didn’t care, nor did Adam. He’d rather die then leave your lips. Granted his lung capacity was wayyyyy better than yours.
When you pulled away — gasping for air — Adam aggressively started to attack you neck. Leaving marks all over. Living for the sounds of your little moans and gasps. That was heaven.
You started to pull his robe off while he started to unbutton your shirt. Once both of your top layers were off the two started to work on your own pants. Adam undoing his belt, while you uncoiled your buttons.
Adam picked you up and pushed you to the wall. Wrapping your legs around his hips. He kissed you once more. “Adam please.” He hummed as if he wasn’t listening to you.
He started to rub your clit — giving it the attention it needs — while also biting down on your neck. You return the favor with your own bite. Leaving a stamp of gold going down his neck as you mark.
Adam thought about getting that bite tattooed for a moment. It was sure to scar. He didn’t care about the pain, it was nothing to the aching in his cock, begging to be inside you.
Once you walls were nice as ready for him he started to push past your entrance. Groaning at your walls tightening around him.
He groaned and had to stop when he was fully sheathed inside you. “Fuck baby you gotten relax.” He murmured in your ear making you whine. He looked down at where you were joined. “Fuck.” He cussed, his forehead now resting against yours. You kissed his cheek.
He took that as the sign to start thrusting. Each time he’d leave your cunt leaving only the tip you’d wine, begging him to fill you again, and that’s what he did.
“Never let me go.” You pleaded.
“Like hell I will.” He whispered to you.
He felt your breath hitch as he hit a certain spot inside you. He started to abuse that spot. Making you absolutely cry for him. Literally.
You felt tears start to form at the pleasure he was giving you.
The coil in your stomachs as ready to snap as was his. “Imma cum Adam.”
He loved hearing his name on your lips. “Yeah babe? Me too, me too.” After a few more thrust you tighten around him. While he sunk himself as deep as he could go, paint your walls white.
When he pulled out he helped you shimmy on your pants. Before putting his own on. He made sure to keep you covered with his wings the whole time. Giving you privacy as you threw your shirt back on.
“I’m uh sorry.” Adam mumbled, and at first you thought you heard wrong. Adam saying sorry? Was it cold or something? “I know after care is like a big thing or whatever, but I can’t stay.” He further explained.
You smiled up at him and brought his lips back down to yours.
Adam smiled in the kiss bringing you closer. And everything was faded. Only you. He loved it. “You saying that is more that enough.”
Adam grabbed your face again, not wanting your lips parted for long. “I’ll sneak away and come back later tonight yeah?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
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Lute had always pride herself in her kill count. In her Ability to never fail. So when you had gotten the best of her, she was livid.
She craved another fight. So the next extermination she challenged you and you won.
This had begin to become a habit over the next ten exterminations. It had got to the point even Adam had acknowledged it.
“Ready to get your ass beat babe?” Adam had said to Lite minutes before the portal opened. “I’m not losing this time.” Adam had just rolled his eyes.
“Sure babe. Sure. God why don’t you fuck her already and be done with that dinner?”
Lute had called him ludicrous, but as she saw you panting above her chest heaving, that’s all she could think about.
Annoyed she threw out a ‘fuck you’ at least attempted too. “Fuck me.”
She had said so breathless, like she’s been wanting that for a decade. Maybe she had.
Your brow rose and when she didn’t try to correct herself you started to give her a laugh.
“Awe, how pathetic of you. You want a dinner to fuck this angel pussy?” You whispered, your breath mixing with hers just over her lips. Yes she felt pathetic, and yes she wanted that.
Lute didn’t want this position however. She would prefer to be the dominant one.
She rolled you around, with you now pin she started to very aggressively kiss you. You had no resistance as you kissed back just as hard. She could feel you trying to fight for dominance so she harshly but your lip.
She grounded her hips against yours, nothing of your moaning out against the others lips.
You frantically tried to take off her uniform only for her to press into you harder. “The only person who is in control is me. Understand?”
You whined put a no. Like a brat. “If I say cum, you say yes. If I say your going to take what I give you without a compliant, you say please.”
You couldn’t lie about how attractive this truly was. Lute took off your pants and laughed at how wet you actually were. Her breath fanned over your heat that was begging for attention.
She stuck her tongue out and placed it where you pleaded for it to be. It was long til your coil snap when she started to rub your clit. You legs tightened around her face.
When she came back up her face was soaked in your juices. She kissed you once again — making you taste yourself on her tongue.
She discarded her pants and crossed your legs together. She grinded down making you both cry out a “fuck.”
You both could feel the release building up, desperately trying to get it.
When it finally did it it hit the two of you hard. Both of your legs had been shaking when you rise again.
“Same day next year?” You asked to which response was an immediate no.
When she had got back to heaven even Adam could see her glow. “Finally got laid?”
The same day next year, it happened again until it became a new ritual.
Me uploading twice in a day? Hell yeah!
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