#( i am am on my knees begging someone to KISS HER )
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misayani · 12 days ago
Note
i love your se-mi fic, it made me giggle, twril my hair and shi HAHDBWBFNS please make more of her and full fic on your first one😈😈
DUMB DUMB — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)
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◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader
◜connected to [HONEY (R U COMING?)]
𔗨 author's note — i cant really tell if i consider this as the second part to the first one but this one and that one's connected. anyways first smut ive ever written, im gonna kms [lowercase intended]
p.s. pls send reqs, as much as possible specific ones so i could actually get into it jssjsks ok bye
warnings: smut [mean-ish se-mi, fingering]
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all your attitude was long gone ever since you step foot in the women's bathroom with se-mi following behind. 
who would've thought that you both managed to convince one of the guards to let you both go to the restroom in the middle of the night? well it was mostly you who kept blabbing your mouth as to why you needed to go to the bathroom so bad to the guard. nonetheless, here you are now— on the bathroom floor, bottoms naked, knees spread, and se-mi fingers deep inside you. 
"fuck—!" you hissed as se-mi inserted a third finger into you, closing your eyes in the process. the amount of sensations are definitely overwhelming you right now.
suddenly, she stops her actions making you whine and flutter your eyes open. "w-why'd you stop?" you hiccup,
"look at me when i'm fucking you. you close your eyes, i stop. got it?" she lowly demands. every word that came out of her mouth clear, making sure you know she's not joking around. 
your lower lip trembles as you nod slowly, staring right into her piercing eyes. she began thrusting her fingers into you once again, her gaze locked onto your desperate expression.
"look at you panting like a fucking dog. weren't you just insulting someone earlier about looking like a lost puppy?" she spats at you. you bite your lower lip in attempt to muffle out your moans as she keeps pounding into you. 
spank !
you let out a gasp at the sudden contact. se-mi had just spanked your exposed cunt. 
"where's that bratty attitude you were pulling earlier now?" she scoffs at you as all you can do was just stare at her with a pouty expression.
"can't fucking talk? am i fucking you dumb, baby?" you felt tears prick at the ends of your eyes as you sniffle, reaching out for her desperately.
"please come closer" you whine, "need you close.." 
fortunately, she complies. she shifts her body closer to yours and you latch your hands onto her shirt. she thrusts her fingers faster causing a moan to slip out of your lips. 
"please, kiss me" you pleaded, "i don't think you deserve it, though?" she teases. 
"se-mi.." fuck, you really wanted her so bad. you wanted her to have you whole, to fuck you, to kiss you. 
"please" you hiccup, "want your l-lips on mine" you were basically begging at this point. never in your life have you begged to someone like this, so helpless and desperate.
a continuous string of pleases and curses left your mouth as she continued ruining you. 
"poor baby," se-mi coos at you, "cum first and maybe i'll let you kiss me." 
se-mi's fingers curl inside you and you groan, removing one of your hands from her shirt and placed it on her jaw, cupping it softly. 
You start to feel your orgasm build up inside you as if it wanted to swallow you whole. you let out soft moans, your eyes still locked onto se-mi's piercing ones but your eyesight was getting hazy. 
somehow, se-mi manages to hit a deeper spot inside you, as you finally hit your breaking point.
you moan her name out as a wave of euphoria hit you, She closes the distance between you two as you shut your eyes and drop your head onto her shoulder, her arms catching your sides.
"fuck" she breathes out, "you did well baby." she caressed your hair and lets you breathe for a moment. 
once she felt you relax your body onto hers, she pulls away from you and tilts your head slightly upwards. you flutter your eyes open and they were met with her gaze— soft and very unlike to the one she just had earlier, dangerous and seductive.
fina-fucking-lly, she leans in and presses her lips onto yours before softly kissing you. without hesitating, you kissed back. her lips were surprisingly soft despite being somewhat dehydrated in this place.
you felt the cold metal of her piercing on your tongue while you nibbled on her bottom lip. she moves one of her hands to your cheek, cupping it softly before you pulled away to breathe. 
"let's clean you up." se-mi said standing up and walking to one of the bathroom stalls before coming back with a tissue roll on hand.
once done cleaning up and wearing your underwear and pants back on, a firm knock was heard outside the door. just on time.
"it's time to head out" you both heard the muffled voice say. se-mi gives you a final kiss on the lips before opening the door and letting you walk out the bathroom first.
still, you can't quite comprehend what just happened. all you can think of was how se-mi just fucked the attitude out of you.
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@misayani
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prael · 16 days ago
Text
Day 2: Covered
IVE An Yujin x male reader smut
words: 6,374 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
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They said you could have been special; you would argue that you are.
Destined for greatness. A bright future. Whichever other way they wanted to express it.
The thing is, not everyone is cut out for the centre stage, and that's okay. You still get to do what you love, surrounded by people who share the same passion and work just as hard. Sometimes in life, you are the backup dancer in someone else's story. Sometimes, you literally are the backup dancer.
Yujin however, Yujin is the star. The one the world adores. The one that everyone around her seems to orbit.
You're just another face in her gravitational pull. You're on the stages and you're in the videos but no one remembers your name. There's probably an edit on Weverse somewhere with a sticker on your face. It's fine though. You've long made your peace with it.
You refuse to let that take away from the fact you spend so much time with An fucking Yujin. You've seen her in every single state, every emotion. She likes her 5 am coffee black and her mid-day one with ice. Yujin loves it when you massage her shoulders after practice and hates it when you play the same song twice in a row. However, the thing she loves above all else (and this can never go public) is having you on your knees—serving her like the queen you know her to be.
That's her secret. It's one you bear—one you're fine with keeping.
The final shoot is tomorrow, and today's practice is over but you know better than to follow everyone else out of the studio. You wait and you linger, and when the room clears out and you're sure everyone has left, you kneel and you wait. Sure enough, she notices and a smile creeps onto her face.
You don't bother to look up. Instead, you stay kneeling, waiting, knowing she's going to make her way over to you.
She does.
You hear her soft footsteps approaching and see the shadow fall over you as she stands there, looking down at you. You look up, slowly, eyes trailing up the length of her legs, over the expanse of her bare thighs and then just as you reach her hips, her fingers slip into your hair. She tightens her grip and yanks your head back so she can stare directly into your eyes.
"Did I say you could look at my legs?"
You gulp, feeling the tug on your hair and the way it makes your scalp burn. Your throat is dry, mouth parted and eyes wide. "No," you respond.
"Then what are you looking at?"
"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, your hands clenching into fists and relaxing again as she tugs harder, her grip unrelenting.
"Sorry isn't good enough," she scoffs. "Why do I always have to teach you a lesson?"
You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat when she shoves you to the ground and kicks her leg out, planting her foot on your chest.
"Take off my shoes, don't talk."
You rush to comply, untying the laces of her sneaker before slipping it off. Yujin switches foot and you obediently repeat the action, putting the shoe beside the first one. You know that you can't allow your eyes to linger, but her bare legs are right over you and it takes all your self-control to look away.
"Socks," Yujin mutters.
You take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she wants you to do. You're slow to reach out, placing a hand on her ankle. She lets you, allowing you to gently lift her leg and slide her sock off, dropping it to the ground beside her. Your hand slides higher, caressing the soft skin of her calf, tracing the contours of her muscles. You're almost distracted until Yujin clears her throat, glaring down at you.
You nod, sliding the second sock off her foot and letting that join the first. You don't know where to look, her skin is right in front of you, begging to be kissed. Her eyes are boring into you, demanding all your attention.
"I don't know if you deserve it," she hums, lifting her foot. She drags her toes over your chest, the ball of her foot pressing down just beneath your collarbone.
"Deserve what?"
"To taste me," she laughs. "Don't think I didn't notice how distracted you were today. Don't think I didn't notice you staring at me."
"I wasn't—"
"Don't lie," she interrupts. "It's a bad habit."
You're so hopelessly disarmed. Lying underneath her on the hardwood floor of the studio with your body burning. She's so beautiful, and it's not fair. It's not fair how the universe created someone who can ruin you so easily and look so effortless doing it.
"You're lucky it's recording today tomorrow. You know what that means."
Like any other day before a big something, Yujin has a need for a release. It's a tradition at this point. The days leading up to something are so full of stress and excitement that it all gets too much and the only way for her to relieve herself is to use you.
You nod. You know exactly what it means.
She lowers her foot, and you feel her toes brush against the crotch of your shorts. You suck in a breath as she rubs up and down the fabric, pressing into you. She's watching your reaction, watching the way you bite your lip and clench your fists.
"You've been bad today. Distracted. Not focusing. Do you think you deserve this?"
"No," you shake your head.
"I don't think you do either." She removes her foot, stepping back.
It's torture. You clench your eyes as hard as your fists, desperate not to act out of turn.
"But you know what I want," she continues as you dare to open your eyes and look up. She's staring at you, hands on her hips. "You know what to do to get back on my good side."
You nod. Of course, you know. It's not the first time you've found yourself on the floor beneath her. You sit up on your knees and shuffle forwards. Her shorts are black and loose. Your fingers slip into the waistband and you tug them down slowly, sliding them over the curve of her ass, past the smooth, glowing skin of her thighs and down to her ankles.
You take a breath. You're so desperate. So hungry. She's wearing the laced panties you like. The ones you bought for her and left in her bag. They hug her so tightly that she seems to be straining against them. Her ass looks perfect, her thighs thick and inviting and her cunt...you can see the outline of her folds. The thin material barely covers her. She knows how much it affects you.
"You're staring again," she huffs, pushing her hand into your hair once more and tugging roughly.
"I can't help it," you whimper.
Her fingers twist and you feel the burn in your scalp once more as you wince in pain. Yujin's hand moves from your hair, dragging down the length of your neck and around to the front of your throat. Her hand squeezes gently, thumb and index finger digging in just below your jaw.
"You can. You will."
You gasp, her grip is tight and you can't breathe, your eyes watering with the pain and the pleasure that it brings. She leans forward, her breath hot against the shell of your ear, her grip tight. You're trembling, shaking with the effort of holding back.
"Beg me," she whispers.
"Let me taste you. Let me kiss you. Please, please let me—"
Her grip on your neck tightens, cutting you off. Your words dissolve into a whimpering mess and your eyes roll back in their sockets as your body melts into her. Her touch, her words, her everything has such an effect on you that it takes you to another world. The only thing that exists is the two of you.
"Pathetic," she scoffs, her lips brushing your ear. "You'll do anything, won't you?"
"Yes," you moan, and you mean it.
"Good," she says as she pushes you away and you collapse back against the ground. "Now make me feel good, will you? I'm sick of waiting."
Yujin steps over you, her legs on either side of you and she pulls the laced underwear to the side, lowering herself down until she's hovering just over your mouth.
She looks ethereal like this, the lights shining down on her. The goddess of your dreams, the star of your story.
"Please, let me—" You don't even need to finish your sentence, Yujin sinks down, pressing her pussy onto your lips and you open your mouth to lick at her. A mouth full of pussy, the taste of her arousal hitting your tongue. She grinds down, the soft skin of her thighs pressing in on either side of your face, trapping you. You lick again, tongue flat against her, licking up from her entrance and over her clit. She grunts and her hips buck forward, grinding her pussy down harder on your lips.
"More," she pants.
And you give it to her. Your tongue laps at her, teasing her clit. Her hips roll and you feel the slickness between her legs growing and it's all over you, coating your face as you desperately reach for her thighs. She slaps your hand away.
"Did I say you can touch?"
You struggle to shake your head between her legs.
"So keep them down."
Your hands go back to your side and she groans in approval, grinding harder and faster, using you like she knows she can. This is so Yujin, to use you like she's nothing but a toy for her to play with. You don't care, you'll do whatever she wants.
You're lost in the moment, your tongue licking, tasting and teasing as you desperately try and find the rhythm she's moving in. Her thighs tighten around your head, trapping you there. You cut shapes across her clit with your tongue and you feel the shuddering of her legs as she whines. She loves it when you write her name with your tongue. The letters spelling out An Yujin.
It's all it takes for you to be consumed by her. She's in your system and all you want to do is make her feel good.
Even the powerful, composed, elegant, Yujin has to succumb in some form to the pleasure. She's been riding you with so much poise and posture. Her back is slightly arched, so above you is just the beautiful expanse of her upper body—clung to by a sweat-soaked white shirt. She's running her hand across her chest, her fingers twisting a nipple as she works herself into a frenzy on you. Her head rolls, her hand moves to the base of her neck and she moans.
She basks in the light shining down on her, and it's a sight to behold. The way it glistens on her skin. The sweat runs down her chest. Her hair, her face. The way she looks when she's so completely in the moment.
"Fuck—" she gasps and her thighs tense around your head.
You're trapped and you're struggling. Your face is covered in slick and your mouth is filled with her taste. You feel like you're suffocating and all you can think is that this is how you want to die, with Yujin all over you. Yet you know there's more to come. She starts to crumble. The poise fades and she leans forward, slamming the palm of her hand against the floor.
She hunches as she rides harder. She's fucking down onto your face. Grinding her pussy on your lips and your chin, chasing the ecstasy that she needs. She's so close you can feel it in the way she trembles. You hear it in her moaning, her whines. She's there. Right there, on the cusp. 
And how you wish you could take hold of her. Grip her juicy ass in your hands and push your mouth against her cunt and fuck her with your tongue. You'd do it. You would. Your hands twitch at the thought. Your fingers curl into the floor instead. There will be no marks on Yujin's perfect skin from your fingers right now. You keep them clenched and do as you're told.
"Fuck—" She grunts, her thighs trembling. You can't move and you can barely breathe. All you can do is lick at her and let her ride you like a toy.
It's enough. Yujin cries out and her back arches, her head falling backwards. She comes and it's the most glorious sight, watching her body tense as her thighs tremble, clenching around your face. She grinds, rubbing against your tongue as she draws it out. It's messy and loud. She's panting, her chest heaving and she moans, rocking her hips and gasping.
It's like the tension washes out of her body and she sinks down, relaxing against you. She sits on your chest, looking down at you, a satisfied smirk on her face. You try to smile back but all you can manage is a dopey grin as you struggle to catch your breath. She's beautiful like this. Her eyes shine bright, the light behind them twinkling. Her skin glows and she looks like a work of art. A masterpiece.
"You did well," she praises, reaching out to touch your face, stroking her fingers across your cheeks, "you always do well for me, don't you?"
You nod. "I'd do anything for you," you say, and you mean it.
"I know you will." She shifts her hips, her thighs clamping down around your face again, restricting your air. Yujin laughs. "You'd let me suffocate you if I told you to."
And you would. You really would.
"But, I still have use for you," she tells you as she dismounts. Yujin relaxes on the floor next to you, her head propped up on her elbow.
You take a breath and roll over to look at her, still gasping for air. She smiles, reaching out and cupping your face with her hand, thumbing the wetness of her from your cheeks. You're a mess, covered in her, and her eyes tell you how much she loves that sight. How much she enjoys the power of having you like that.
Yujin leans over, her lips grazing over yours. The kiss is so light it makes you shiver. A complete contrast to what you've just experienced. She walks this balance so perfectly. The rough and the gentle, the affection and the torment. She's the best at both and she plays with them like an instrument.
"Do you like me?" Yujin blinks innocent eyes and it's a trap that you fall right into.
"Yes. You know that I do. I like you a lot."
Yujin grins. "Do you like my body?" She shuffles closer, looking down at you a little more. "Do you want to fuck me?"
You gulp, your mouth watering as your eyes wander over the curves of her figure, the way her nipples press against her shirt, the way the hem of it has risen, exposing her midriff and how she plays with the lace of her panties on her hip. You're so hard that you're aching and she knows that. You want her, you need her, you'd give anything to feel her.
"Yujin," you whimper. "Please."
"Do you deserve to fuck me? After being so bad today?"
"I can make up for it. I'll do anything—"
"I bet you would," she hums. Her hand reaches out, sliding over your shorts, her fingers grazing over the obvious bulge. "You want it that badly?"
You nod and you're desperate.
"You want to be inside me?"
"Please, Yujin," you whimper.
She grins, tugging at the waist of your shorts and slipping her fingers under the waist. "You want to grab my ass while I ride you like the toy that you are? Do you want me to bounce on your dick, hm? The one that belongs to me?"
You bite your lip as you nod fervently, watching the way her eyes shine and the corners of her lips twist. Yujin lets out a soft laugh at your desperation.
"Then worship me." She pulls her hand away from your crotch and places it on her hip to pose. "Show me how much you like my body."
Yujin rolls onto her back, throws her hands above her head and bends a knee as her other leg stretches out. She looks so perfect, so inviting. So you climb to your knees, looking over her as she relaxes. There's a natural arch to her body between her shoulders and her ass that leaves a sliver of light between the small of her back and the floor. She's an art piece. Like a statue carved from stone, sculpted and designed to be admired. A creation so beautiful and elegant.
And you're on your knees for her, kissing up her outstretched leg. Your hand traces over her thigh. You're slow, taking your time. The skin beneath your lips is so soft, so smooth, so delicate. You don't deserve her. Your lips press into the path your hand paves up her body. Gentle kisses of appreciation on the thigh you adore so much.
"Yujin—" you breathe the words hot onto her skin. A lick, to taste the sweat from her body, a kiss, to mark the spot. A honey-laced laugh rings in the air. "You're so beautiful," you murmur.
Your mouth presses against her hip, tongue trailing over her skin. Your fingers lip up under her tight-fitted shirt. She's so warm. Her body feels like it's burning and her breaths are heavy.
She looks down the length of her body to watch you as your hand slides up, pushing her shirt with it. Your lips graze over your stomach, tongue teasing and tracing over the defined lines. You're in awe of her. She's perfect, and she knows it, but you still want her to know that she's appreciated. That she's worshipped, admired, adored, lusted for, and wanted.
"I know I am," she laughs, "but tell me more."
"An Yujin," you breathe the name into her skin as you kiss your way to her chest, your hand sliding further up her body until the palm of your hand rests on the softness of her breast. "No one is like you," you whisper as you squeeze the mound in your hand, feeling her body beneath you, feeling the way it moves when your hand does. "You're so flawless."
She moans softly when your fingers pinch her nipple. "Keep going," Yujin hums.
"You're stunning," you continue, looking up at her face as you kiss across her chest to the other breast, your hand still fondling. Your mouth hovers over her nipple and your eyes flicker up to meet hers as you lick over it. She gasps and you lick again, teasing and flicking over it. "You're the most decadent, alluring thing I have ever laid eyes on."
"I'm your fantasy?" Her hands move to the top of your head, her fingers twisting into the strands of your hair as you lick, sucking her into your mouth again, teasing her with the flat of your tongue. You suck and she lets out a sharp hiss of a moan.
"My fantasy," you breathe the words against her chest. "You're my dream."
Her hips lift, pushing against you and the growing ache of your erection. The friction, the heat, the feeling of her—it's so good. She grinds, rolling her hips and rubbing against your cock, smirking at the way you whine, your eyes fluttering.
"You want to cum," she taunts. "Don't you?"
"Yujin," you moan her name again as her fingers twist tighter in your hair. Your hips roll down to meet the grind of her body and your mouth finds the crook of her neck. You inhale the scent of her. You're surrounded by Yujin. It's dizzying. She's everywhere. The smell of her, the taste of her on your tongue and lips, the feeling of her skin on your hands, under your body, the sight of her, the sound of her voice. Everything is Yujin, and you can't think of a better world to live in. "I want you," you tell her. "I want to be inside you, I need you."
"I know what you need," she hums. Yujin's hands tug on your shirt and you sit back and pull it off. Her palms press against your chest, pushing you to lie back on the floor. You watch her and the grace with which she moves, kneeling over your waist as she peels her own shirt over her head and tosses it to the side.
Your eyes are all over her body. Yujin's hands run over the softness of her skin, and she cups her tits in her hands, rolling her thumbs over her nipples, her eyes locked on yours as you watch. Her body is a wonderland. There's no part of it that you haven't seen. No inch of her skin you haven't touched or tasted. You know every crevice of it, every mark and blemish, every imperfection. You know them all and you love them. They're the most perfect imperfections you've ever seen.
She knows the power that her body has over you, the control it gives her. Yujin knows how to wield that weapon, how to make it into the sharpest sword, and how to cut you with it.
"Fuck me," you plead, the words escaping your lips in desperation. "Yujin, please."
"You beg so beautifully for me," she smiles, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. "Lift your hips."
And you obey, lifting them from the floor. Yujin's fingers tug at the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. She smiles at the sight of you, hard and leaking. Yujin's hands slide over your bare thighs. You're exposed, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your skin sends a chill up your spine. Her palms slide up until she wraps one around the base of your cock and her touch sends a shiver through your body. Yujin strokes up, slowly, twisting her hand on the upstroke. Your hips buck at her touch and she grins at the way your cock twitches, the precum leaking across the back of her hand as she reaches the top.
"You're so needy," she says as her hand glides back down. Your eyes are wide, watching every move she makes as if your life depended on it. "I like it," she tells you.
"I'd do anything—"
"I know you would," Yujin laughs, cutting you off. She shuffles forward on her knees until her thighs press on either side of your waist, caging you between her. The way she towers over you, with that look in her eyes that says you belong to her. "You're my toy, aren't you?"
"I'm your toy."
"That's right." Her hand squeezes tighter around the base of your cock as she lifts her hips, hovering just over you. You don't know how long she's going to keep you waiting, you never do. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. She has a sadistic streak that you've never understood and it's always a game of how desperate can she make you before giving in to your begging. "And who does this belong to?" she asks.
"You. Yujin. It belongs to you," you breathe the words, your fingers curling into the palms of your hands.
"That's right, it belongs to me. This cock," she strokes up again. "It's mine. Isn't it?" Yujin's fingers trace up, circling your tip.
"It's yours," you whimper. The desperation has you whining.
"It is," she laughs, and it's a sound that makes your stomach twist into knots. She squeezes you and lifts her hips just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of her body. You feel her thighs squeeze against you as she grinds her pussy on the underside of your cock, dragging the length of you through her folds and over her clit.
Instinct dictates that you bring your hand to her hip, but you know you can't just take hold of her, not unless she's given the go-ahead. You clench your hands tighter, biting your lip to hold in your frustration, your desperation.
Yujin's hips rock against you again, grinding down and using your cock to get herself off. You can feel the slickness between her legs. You can hear the wet sound it makes. She's using you, and she's loving every second. It's the sound you know too well. She's getting herself off. The feeling of her is intoxicating, and your cock is throbbing, twitching as it slides against her pussy, hitting her clit. The moans from Yujin's lips tell you exactly what it's doing to her. How much she loves the way it makes her feel.
You can't touch. You can't take control. All you can do is lie back, your head tipped back against the floor as your fingers grip in vain at the floor, struggling to keep them from reaching out for her. Yujin's body moves like silk in the wind, and you know she's so close. The sound of her, the feeling of her. She's riding the edge, grinding down, the tip of your cock catching on her entrance as she teases you with every move.
"Yujin—" you beg her name as your head falls to the side, eyes clenched closed.
"What?" Her voice is thick with lust and you feel her hand on your chin, gripping your jaw, her nails biting into your cheeks. She turns your face and forces your eyes open to watch the way she moves. "You want to be inside me?"
You can only nod in reply, feeling her fingers tighten around you, squeezing. She grins, leaning over and you feel the breath of her laughter on your neck. Her lips brush your skin. Her teeth nip, biting down on your shoulder, making you wince. Yujin's hips roll forward, and the tip of your cock catches on her entrance. She holds there for a moment, a silent torment of anticipation as your mind swirls and your stomach flips. And then you feel the heat, her warmth as she slowly pushes herself onto your cock. You watch with a hitched breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You feel her. She feels you.
The breath you'd held rushes out, a gasping moan, the feeling of being enveloped by her body. The tight warmth as Yujin sinks all the way down. Her pussy grips your length, squeezing tight and you can feel the way it flutters, the way it grips, the way it clenches around you. Your eyes meet hers, and you can see how much she enjoys having this effect on you. How she loves the way you react, the sounds she forces you to make, the way you squirm and gasp beneath her. She owns you. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably.
Her hands press down on your chest, and she starts to move, rolling her hips, circling, lifting up just enough that she can feel you slide in and out of her. You can feel it all, you're aware of every movement she makes. How she grinds her clit against your body on the downstroke, the way her hips tilt to find the right spot, the way she moans when she hits the perfect angle. The way she moves when she finds the right pace, the perfect rhythm. It's everything and all at once.
"You feel so good inside me," Yujin purrs. She leans back, placing a hand on the top of your thigh. Her body is open to you. She's exposed. The panties she still wears are pulled to the side, her breasts bouncing with every move of her body, her stomach tightening, the soft skin pulled taut as her abs clench. She's a sight, a beauty to behold and a treasure to worship.
"Yujin, please," you breathe the word into the space between the two of you. It's not enough, you need to touch. You have to. But you're trapped and she's in charge. "Let me touch you."
"No." It's simple, the way she says it. It's like she's not even thinking about the effect she's having on you like she doesn't even realise what she's doing to your sanity. She rides you like a toy, her hips moving, grinding down, her thighs squeezing and relaxing as she works. You can only whine, lying back against the ground. You watch as she takes what she needs from you, her hand slipping down her stomach and to her clit, circling quickly as her moans fill the room. "This is my cock," she breathes, "and I'll do what I like with it."
"Yes," you hiss as your hips push upwards, your hands balled into fists at your sides. You're so hard it hurts. It aches and it throbs, and all you can do is lie back, trapped beneath Yujin and her powerful thighs. "Yujin—" you breathe, but the words stick in your throat.
Her eyes are dark, the lust-filled pools staring down at you as you lie back, completely helpless and at her mercy. Your cock twitches and she gasps, her hand on her clit, rubbing furiously, chasing her release. She's getting closer and closer with each passing second and it shows in her face. Her brow creasing, lips parted and eyes fluttering.
She's fucking herself on your dick. Yujin is using you to get herself off and you love every second of it. The feeling of her walls gripping you tight, squeezing, her body clenching around you. The way her thighs tense and shake as she moves. Her moans, her gasps. Her eyes are on you, watching you watch her.
Yujin gasps and her body shudders, her pace quickening, her fingers circling faster, rubbing frantically at her clit as she chases her orgasm. You know how close she is, and all you can do is watch her face as she gets closer and closer. Her body is shaking, trembling as the wave builds inside her. Her moans get louder, and more intense. Her fingers work harder, and you feel her tightening, the walls of her pussy squeezing down, and then she cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching, her chest pushing out as she rides the waves of her orgasm.
It's beautiful. The way her body reacts to it all, the way she looks when she comes undone. Yujin moans your name and it sends shivers up and down your spine. She looks ethereal like this. A deity to be admired. A queen on her throne.
She's beautiful. She's breathtaking. She's Yujin.
When the waves stop crashing, Yujin collapses onto you, her body limp and spent. The warmth of her body pressed against you feels like heaven and your cock is still inside her, pulsing, aching, begging for its own release.
"I don't know if I should let you cum," Yujin pants in a whisper, her face pressed against your shoulder, the hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Could just leave you here like this. All hard and frustrated. Aching. You'd probably go home and get yourself off thinking about me."
She's right. Of course, she's right. You would.
"Or maybe you can show me just how much you appreciate me," she breathes, pushing herself up, hands on either side of your head. "Would you like that?"
"Anything," you tell her. Your hands twitch, desperate to reach up to her. "You know I would."
"I know." She smirks and sits up. Her hips lift until you feel your cock slipping out of her, her wetness dripping onto you. Yujin's fingers trace over the mess she's left, smearing it on her fingertips before bringing it to your lips. You know what she wants. She doesn't even need to ask.
Your mouth opens and she pushes her fingers between your parted lips, letting you lick them clean. You suck her fingers and her eyes watch you, a glint of something dangerous shining. She pulls them out slowly, dragging the tips over your bottom lip. "Good," Yujin breathes the word as she climbs off of you and turns around.
The curve of her ass is a beautiful thing to see. It's soft, smooth, plump. She catches a glance at you staring, a smirk tugging on her lips. She plants her hand against her ass (a harsh reminder that feeling it yourself requires her permission) and squeezes the flesh before letting out a laugh. It's all a game to her.
"You're going to show me, by cumming for me. Cumming on me." She settles back onto the floor, gracefully lying back into a pose. "You have two minutes. Two minutes to show me how much you love my body." She runs a hand from her chest all the way to her hips and you watch, entranced by every movement she makes. Yujin laughs again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
The words kick you into action and you scramble to your knees and shuffle towards her. She laughs at the sweet, sweet honey sound that makes you melt. Your hand wraps around the base of your cock, the wetness from Yujin's pussy coating it, slick and smooth as you slowly stroke your length. You stare at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her fingers trace up and down the skin of her thigh, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
It's intoxicating. You're drunk on Yujin, high off of her beauty, and you're addicted. There's no going back. You're hers, completely. Your fist tightens around your length and your strokes quicken. The feeling of it is so good and your cock is still throbbing from being trapped inside her. You can feel the lingering heat of her body on your skin. The scent of her, the taste, the sound. It's everywhere. Surrounding you. Enveloping you. Engulfing you. Consuming you.
"Two minutes," she hums the reminder, her fingers sliding between her thighs. Yujin's fingers slide over the panties she still wears. "Two minutes to make yourself cum for me. To make a mess of my body."
"Yujin," you whimper her name like it's a prayer. The sound of her voice, the sight of her body. The knowledge of what you've done, of what you've experienced. You've been inside her. You've had the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her in your ears. Her pussy is still dripping and her thighs glistening. You're still so hard that you're aching, and all you can do is stroke yourself. All you can do is pump your hand and feel your fingers glide up and down your shaft.
Your eyes flicker from the smooth, warm, inviting skin of her chest to her pussy and back. You've tasted her. You've felt her. You've felt the way she grips and clenches, the way she feels. The sound of her when she cums.
"I don't know if you can do it. I don't know if you can cum." Yujin teases and she knows how to play you. "One minute."
"Yujin," you moan her name again and again as you feel it building. The pressure. The heat. Your cock twitches in your hand as you stroke. The sensation of the wet heat, the friction, the knowledge that Yujin is beneath you, but you're hers to command, to control. It's too much and it's everything. You feel it in your core, a twisting, coiling, winding tension that's threatening to snap.
"Do you want to cum on me?" Her voice breaks through the fog. "Do you want to mark my body with your cum? Make a mess of me?"
She throws her hands above her head, stretching out her body and presenting herself for your load. "Thirty seconds," Yujin warns, the hint of danger on the tip of her tongue.
"Yujin—" You can only whisper her name as you stroke. Hard and fast, gripping and twisting. You're so close. Right there, standing on the precipice.
"That's it. Be a good boy for me," she praises. "Show me how much you adore me."
"I—I—" Your words die in your throat, a gasping, breathless moan. You're cumming, the tension snaps and it's all too much. The pleasure rushes over you like a wave. You're drowning in it. You're suffocating. Your hips stutter, thrusting into your fist, pumping your length as you feel the hot spurts of your cum painting over Yujin's perfect, beautiful skin. The first spurt splashes across her breasts, the second spattering across her stomach and chest. Her laughter fills the room. She loves this, seeing the way she's ruined you.
Your body shakes, your hand slowing as the final drops fall from your cock to the expanse of Yujin's body. Your mind swims as you struggle to breathe. Your head spins and your vision is blurry. She's laughing, her fingers swiping through the cum, rubbing it into her skin. Her hands roam all over her body and you're entranced. Your body feels like jelly as you collapse, slumped onto your side on the floor beside her.
"Good boy," Yujin purrs, her hand sliding over her stomach and down between her legs, rubbing at her clit with your cum. She's smearing it everywhere, all over her pussy, her fingers slipping between her folds and then back to her clit. It runs over her chest, dripping down the side of her tit. Her breath hitches and you watch, mesmerised by her. "Such a good boy."
"Yujin," her name falls from your lips as if you've lost all other words, the way a prayer is uttered, reverently and devotedly. "I—"
She laughs again. It's light and playful. "I know. I'm the best, right? You're so lucky."
"Yes." It's the only thing you can think of to say. You are lucky. So unbelievably lucky.
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madmaxified · 1 month ago
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how do you think jealous glinda would act
JEALOUS GALINDA HEADCANNONS
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warnings : none!
author’s note : this got me out of my writers block ( FREAKING FINALLY ) so thank you anon!
⭑ galinda loves being the centre of attention, loves it, especially when she gets to be the centre of your attention. she’s not used to not getting what she wants, not used to not being the sun, the moon, the planets, and stars in everyone’s galaxy, so the idea of her having to share your attention with anyone else is such a foreign concept to her
⭑ galinda, who always wants to hang out with you! she wants to study together ( though it’s mostly you working and her staring at you with big goo goo eyes because you look so pretty when you’re concentrating! ) or going on super elaborate dates she’s planned out, or just hanging out in her dorm and kissing until she can’t stop giggling
⭑ so when you start to hang out with someone else just a tad bit more than you do her, like maybe you eat lunch with some your classmates instead of going off with her, or if you say you can’t come over that night because you’re hanging out with someone else, she freaks out!
⭑ why don’t you wanna hang out with her anymore? did she do something wrong? was she a bad girlfriend? did she hurt your feelings? elphaba finds her in bed curled up in ball with her knees tucked up to her chest, overthinking every little thing the two of you have ever done, trying to figure out why you might be mad at her
⭑ spoiler alert! you’re not mad! she’s just a chronic overthinker who can’t go a day without getting to hold your hand and kiss you
⭑ the moment you come over next she’s bawling in your arms and begging for you to forgive her because she doesn’t understand why you’re mad and she’s sorry if she hurt your feelings! she’s so not used to feeling so strongly about someone and she doesn’t want to mess a single thing up
⭑ in an instant you’re cuddling her and kissing her face and insisting she didn’t do anything wrong, and that she’s been nothing but the most amazing girlfriend imaginable! you just wanted to spend some time with your other friends, that’s all! you don’t love her any less
⭑ she’s all pouty and red in the face and somehow as elegant and pretty as ever, maybe even more, when she looks up at you
“galinda, what are you talking about? you are nothing short of the most amazing girlfriend on the planet! just because we’re not spending every second of every day together doesn’t mean i love you any less”
“you p - p - promise?”
⭑ galinda tries not to be super clingy after that, tries to teach herself that just because you’re hanging out with your friends or you’re not sleeping over every night, that it doesn’t mean you don’t care about her or what to break up, tries to teach herself that she doesn’t need to be always be the centre of attention. she’s still learning! it’s her first time being a relationship that she really does care about
⭑ of course she can only handle so much, it’s hard not to be clingy and possessive when she sees someone blatantly flirting with you! you’re her girlfriend after all!
⭑ the moment someone touches your arm sweetly or compliments your hair or clothes in a definitively not platonic way, she’s practically appearing at your side, arms wrapped around your waist with her face nuzzled into your shoulder
⭑ she’s constantly kissing your cheek, snuggling up against you, squeezing your hand, and repeating the word ‘girlfriend’ over and over until whoever decided they had the right to even breathe in the direction of you awkwardly wanders off
“oh! i don’t believe we’ve met, i’m galinda upland, her GIRLFRIEND!” “i was just in the bathroom, hope i didn’t keep my GIRLFRIEND waiting for too long!” “thanks for taking such good care of my GIRLFRIEND, but i can take it from here, as i am her GIRLFRIEND, and she is my GIRLFRIEND”
⭑ she doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, flipping her hair in the direction of ( and maybe even into the face of ) anyone who tries to hit on you. you’re her girlfriend! not theirs!
⭑ she can’t help but feel insecure though, her face is a nervous mix between a scowl and a pout for most of the night, constantly squeezing your hand as if to remind herself that you’re very much still there, that you haven’t left her for someone else
⭑ it’s not until she drags you back to her dorm does she break down, blubbering about how she’s worried about ‘not being good enough’ and how ‘everyone who hit on you was so much sexier and cooler than her’ and how ‘she’s not even that good of a girlfriend because she doesn’t know what she’s doing! but she doesn’t want to screw anything up!’
⭑ you’re barely able to calm her down, let alone pull her into your arms and lead her over towards her bed
“ssh, sh, hey, hey, galinda look at me. nobody at that stupid party was as cool or sexy or amazing as you are. you are the brightest, most wonderful person i’ve ever met, and i’d be an idiot to even consider dumping you for some dumb guy or girl who tries to hit on me. you don’t have to be perfect, nobodies perfect baby, but you are damn well pretty close. i love galinda upland, nothings gonna change that”
⭑ somehow that made her cry more! not out of sadness but just because she’s so overwhelmed with joy and love because you love her and you think she’s perfect and pretty and sexy and amazing, and it made her heart flutter in her chest so hard she’s worried it’ll explode
⭑ she flops right against you, burying her face into your shoulder and mumbling ‘i love you’ over and over and over until she finally stops crying, and by then you’re both exhausted
⭑ you end up spending the night at hers, galinda tucked against your chest your face buried in her hair, arms cradling her protectively
⭑ she ends up staying awake long after you’ve fallen asleep. titling her head up just so, watching and listening to you breathe because you’re the most gorgeous creature on earth and she’s the one who gets to lay against you like this, and she’s not sure something else has ever made her happier
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igotanidea · 4 months ago
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Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader
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SMUT MDNI!
As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD
***
Y/N was fuming.
For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.
Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--
Fuck.
She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.
Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.
Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 
She needed him. 
With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.
Jason ...
Come home...
Can't you sense how much I want you now...
She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 
***
That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.
Y/n…
Was that feeling because she was in danger?
Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?
Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.
It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.
Y/n….
***
He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?
“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”
“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.
“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.
“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.
“Shut up…”
“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch
“Shut up, Jason!”
“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”
“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”
“At what?”
“Girls!”
“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.
“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”
“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk
“Jason!”
 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”
“Stupid internet.”
“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”
“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”
“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.
“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”
“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”
“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .
“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“
“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.
“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”
“It did not!”
Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.
“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”
His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.
“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.
“Mmm. Tease.”
“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.
And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.
“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.
“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.
Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.
“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”
His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.
“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.
With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.
Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 
Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.
And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.
“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.
“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.
“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.
“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.
Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.
“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.
“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.
“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.
“Who’s ruining the moment now?”
“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”
“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.
“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  
“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.
The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.
Jason and Y/n.
Y/n and Jason.
Together.
Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.
“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.
“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.
***
“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.
“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”
“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”
“It depends on—”
“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”
“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart
“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”
“How about we both stay ourselves?”
“Works for me.”
Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.
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suckerforblondeathletes · 22 days ago
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I still don't forgive you..- Alessia Russo
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Alessia Russo x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your fear for animals in a zoo makes Alessia laugh, upsetting you. You plan on making her pay but it seems that didn't go to plan...
Warnings: SMUT, Kissing, oral (alessia receiving), fingering (Alessia receiving) cussing, uhhh I think that's it.
Authors note: Hey guys! So I found this draft and decided to post it!
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"Absolutely not." You said, sitting on the couch in the middle of the England training facility along with your girlfriend Alessia, Ella, Mary, and Leah.
"Come on babe it will be fun!" Alessia whines and grabs your hand, giving you begging eyes as you shake your head.
"No, I am not going to the zoo. I don't like animals, let alone ones in Australia."
Alessia and Mary were trying to convince you to go to a zoo in Australia, but you never have liked animals. You thought any animals other than a dog or cat were terrifying.
That all started when your brother used to pick you up and try to feed you to the giraffes in the zoo when you were little, and he would tell you stories of lions jumping out of their cages and eating little girls who played soccer.
"Please babe I will do anything. I want you to go with us." Alessia begs and you meet her eyes. Anything?
You hum and think about it for a moment, thinking about all the things you could make her do. Buy you food, new clothes, make her clean the bathroom and your cats litter box for a week. The ideas were limitless.
"Sure, but I will have to think about what I want you to do." Immediately after you said that Mary and Ella made gagging noises.
"Eww guys do that somewhere else, my eyes are innocent and childlike." Mary says making Alessia blush. You roll your eyes and flip Mary off.
"Not like that you creep." You stand up to go get some water and kiss Alessia on the lips before leaving, leaving her blushing and your teammates teasing her.
-
Here you are, holding Alessia's hand for dear life as you walk into the zoo with the England team.
"Alessia I don't like this." You say in her ear as you pass a turtle cage.
She soothes your hand before kissing your temple.
"Its okay." You hear her say, but she stops talking and you hear snickering next to you.
You whip your head to the blonde who is trying to stifle her laughs with her hand. Your jaw drops and you stare at her in betrayal.
"Alessia Russo what's so funny?" You stop walking and look at her. Ella makes oooing noises behind the two of you like a kid in school would if someone got yelled at.
“Nothing! Nothing is funny I just..” Alessia gets interrupted by Ella.
“She was making fun of you, you should definitely get her back.” Ella says tapping Alessia’s shoulder.
You think for a moment, you should get her back and make her pay.
“I won’t kiss you for a whole day. Until tomorrow at 2pm.” You look down at your phone, the time is 2:12pm, a whole day would be tomorrow at 2:12pm.
Alessia’s jaw drops as Ella laughs out loud. You give her a smirk before walking away, but turning back when you see a cheetah in an enclosure.
“No you didn’t. You’re a liar babe.” Alessia says in disbelief and tugs on your arm. You turn to her and shake your head.
“Nope, payment is payment. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed at me.” You look at her, her jaw still open and her blue eyes scanning your face for a lie.
“Babeeeeee” She whines and leans in to kiss you, you ducking you head and dodging the kiss. This would be a wild day.
-
You all get back to the hotel and you and Alessia go to y’all’s room, when you get in the room she doesn’t say anything but stares at you like she is waiting for something.
You notice this and turn to her, “do you need something?” You ask innocently. She gives you begging eyes and walks up to you.
“Love please let me kiss you I hate this.” She begs and grabs your waist making your knees buckle slightly, but you stand strong and true to your word.
“You shouldn’t have laughed at me Russo.” You say and softly slap her chest. She drops her jaw in shock again at your response.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t funny please I won’t do it again.” She whines and grabs your waist tighter.
“Hmmm after the team dinner, maybee” you drag out the E at the end and stroke her cheek before backing out of her hold and into the bathroom to get ready.
She smiles and thinks of a way to make you want to kiss her. She remembers the dress she brought and it goes perfect for the nice place the team is going too.
You throw on a nice V neck suit jacket with nothing underneath, and matching black suit pants to go with it. Some shoes and your hair is down along with little mascara.
You walk out of the bathroom and see the blonde in a tight, mid thigh black dress. Your favorite dress, along with some black heels.
You still are taller than the blonde but by little now with the heels. You smirk and walk up to her and grab her hips, pulling her into you.
“Do you like it?” She asks and smirks at you.
You smile back and lean into her neck to lay kisses along the side of it. Resulting in a whimper of pleasure from Alessia.
“This isn’t fair” she whines but you continue kissing her neck. Your hands running down to her ass and up her back.
Pulling away you look at the lustful expression on her face and smile.
“We don’t want to be late.” You leave her and grab your purse, leaving the room.
She is standing in the same spot with her jaw dropped once again at the fact you left her turned on like that.
She scoffs and leaves the room with out her wallet, knowing she is making you pay.
-
Sitting down, a sexually frustrated Alessia to your left and a blabbering Leah to your right, the night was perfect.
You see her squirm from the corner of your eye and you put your hand on her thigh.
She huffs and tries to move your hand higher, causing you to give her a warning glance before she huffs again and continues talking with Ella across the table.
Looking over to her to make conversation, you see her big blue eyes filled with need, her face flushed and she bites her cheek to keep quiet. That made all the restraint you had left leave and you pull her up from her seat.
"Wait- where are yall going?" Ella asks mid bite, a knowing smirk on Leahs face.
"I need help with something, won't take long." Finishing the sentence while looking at the blonde who pulls you to the bathroom needly.
"Don't have too much fun!" Yells Leah as she snickers with Mary next to her.
You ignore her and rush the woman to the bathroom, her not following too far behind.
Opening the family restroom and pulling her into it, closing the door you smash your lips onto hers, causing her to moan softly and press her back to the door.
Her hands fly to your hair and neck, pulling you closer. Your hands go to her waist and hips as your lips attack hers.
Moving lower, you kiss and lick her neck, causing her to moan and press your head closer to her.
Your hand slams to her mouth and her head throws back, her eyes flutter as her back arches into you. This is the neediest you have ever seen her, you pull her small dress up and pull her underwear down quick.
Moving down to your knees, you don't tease at all and immediately go to town on her clit, a loud moan is muffled by her hand, her other one going to your hair to pull you closer.
She grinds on your face as she moans into her hand, small tears slip from her eyes as she practically suffocates you by how hard she is pressing your face into her core.
Your middle finger slips into her wet pussy and she moans and grips your hair hard, grinding and moaning like a bitch in heat.
Your finger pumps in and out of her, knowing if you added another she wouldn't be quiet. You lap at her cunt as her hand moves slightly to speak.
"I-i'm close god i'm so fucking close.. keep fucking me like that.. yes yes yes please.." She slaps her hand over her mouth as she comes hard, grinding on your face as her hips stutter, legs shaking.
Her cum drips onto your fingers and down to your palm, you don't stop until she finally rides it out and you stand, shoving your fingers into her mouth.
"I still don't forgive you for laughing at me."
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readychilledwine · 9 months ago
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The Ruining of Seraphina
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Summary - Seraphina should have known better than to make a bet against her mate. Especially when losing that bet means being free use for the Inner Circle for a week.
Warnings - all of them, this is a free use open relationship fic. Loose editing 💕 if you squint, there are no errors.
Prompt - Day 7 - Free Day
A/N - I know. You've all been waiting for this one. Happy last @polyacotarweek post! Please keep in mind while reading this, this is both kink and CNM, but the two do not always go together. The smut happens fast, but I tried to keep it enjoyable since this goes through a week, day by day, of Sera being used by the IC. I am willing to expand on any of these days, so I wanted them to be vague yet enticing enough for all of you that the filth was accomplished. For obvious reasons, Elain is not included. It would be super odd to have Sera hooking up with her brother's mate as Azriel watched.
I wrote this with the idea of Sera finding sexual freedom through an open relationship based on other polyamorous people and couples. Being in a CNM relationship can be liberating for someone who grew up with a very strict background, and she felt perfect for this.
💕Poly+Acotar Week Masterlist💕
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“Azriel, I hardly know what this means.” Azriel kissed Seraphina’s palm, leaning It against his face as he smiled up at her.
“For a week, the inner circle will be able to use you however they want when they want. You said you wanted to fuck all of them, here's your chance, my flame.”
You bit, nodding, “And you will be there for all of it?”
“Only if you need. Open relationship, baby, we talked about this.”
“I want you there. Sometimes.”
“Then tug the bond in those instances.”
Monday was the first day it began, and to Sera's surprise, Morrigan was the first to enter her and Azriel's room. She wasted no time, pouncing on Sera and dominating her in a passionate kiss.
Sera smiled as her kissed trailed lower nipping at her lip slightly. “Top or bottom?”
“I've ever laid with another female before. I'm at your disposal, Mor.” She watched the blonde's eyes roll before she forced Sera onto her back. Mor situated herself on Seraphina's face, and instinct took over.
The position was so familiar to her, she replicated the movements she begged Azriel for, pushing her tongue into a tight opening, nose nudging her sensitive clit.
Morrigan was beautiful, but she knew now why her and Eris would never work, and the proof was leaking onto her face, tasting like honey with every drop.
Her hands squeezed Mor's ass and the message was received. Mor took control, hand tangling into red hair as she rode Sera's face.
She made the prettiest noises. Soft breathy moans that shot straight to Sera's core, soaking the bed below her.
In what felt like too short of a time, Mor fell apart on her face, plush lips parting into a silent scream as she did and leaned into the headboard.
She took a few breaths before laying next to Sera. “I really needed that.”
The Autumn female blinked. “You can have it any time.”
Tuesday she woke to fingers in her cunt and a tongue on her clit.
Nesta was, in Seraphina’s mind, the picture perfect female, and as she leaned forward on her elbows, moaning her name as her body began to shake, Nesta just smiled.
The female did not let up for hours, her face was constantly buried between long silky legs, finger in her cunt, mouth whispering to her about the filthy novel she was reading with two female characters.
It led to them covered in sweat, Sera on her hands and knees as Nesta and Azriel were kissing above her. She had her lips around Azriel, sucking him in time with thrusts from Nesta's strap on.
The strap was thick, faked veins running along her soft core and hitting every possible spot. Sera was whining around Azriel, body exhausted and overstimulated from countless orgasms from Nesta.
She came screaming, Azriel following her over the edge as she did. Nesta seemed to find completion as well, nails digging into the other female's ass as she did.
The three of them laid together in the bed, Seraphina reading the novel as Nesta and Azriel spoke. They began to laugh as her face flushed, “Don't act all innocent when I just fucked you with a strap on.”
Wednesday she was cornered by Rhys and Feyre after dinner. The High Lady smiled, pulling her into the room before pushing her on the bed.
For the second time that week, Sera enjoyed a female on her face, moaning as the taste of Feyre hit her tongue. The High Lady was not shy, chasing her own desires as Azriel and Rhysand watched whiskey in hand. The males were all smiles, watching the two of them as Feyre then leaned forward, returning the favor.
It was almost hard to focus, nerves being stimulated while she desperately wanted Feyre to cum for her, but she powered through, loving every second of Feyre's fingers and tongue.
They came at the same time, making both males lose a bet and allowing Feyre to then schedule a time with Azriel for a foursome later, a foursome you eagerly agreed to.
Thursday was a night alone with 3 males carved by Gods. Rhysand had taken her first, finding her in the shower and fucking her until she screamed. He buried himself inside of her as he came, biting her hard before carrying her out to her bedroom. Azriel and Cassian were already on the bed. The shadowsinger was sucking Cassian's cock, watching from hooded eyes as the general moaned for him. Rhysand laid you next to Cass, “Do you want more, or do you want to be forced to watch?” Lost whiskey eyes, blinked back at him, compliant to anything he would want. “You are just a little fuck doll, aren't you?”
Sera used to laugh when Nesta would make jokes about wanting to fuck Eris, Cassian, and Azriel at the same time. “I have three holes,” Lady Death would always smile as she said. Now she understood, and she would confirm to Nesta to take the opportunity if it ever arrived.
Friday morning, Rhys had been long gone, but she woke up to the sound of Azriel's moans. Cassian, the most eager male she had ever met, was between Azriel's legs, sucking his cock. Her mate's eyes were screwed shut, breathing heavy as his hand found Cassian's hair. The general motioned to her mate's wings, and Sera obliged immediately.
She licked the soft membrane, fingers delicately tracing the ridge. “You've been so generous for me this week. Isn’t it your turn, Azzy? Don't you want to cum for Cassian?” Her mated nodded eagerly, pulling her into a heated kiss.
Her and Cassian played with Azriel for hours, not stopping until they were all drenched in sweat and exhausted.
The three of them had dinner alone, Sera telling them about Nesta's fantasy and giving her mate permission to pursue, but not touch her older brother further than kissing.
Saturday was spent with Amren. The ancient being has no interest in her sexually, but they still spend the Day together. Amren wanted to study her powers, believing there had to be more to the female for her to have been with such a powerful male by the Cauldron.
She was correct, but Amren kept it to herself, not wanting to speak of what she discovered, nor how Seraphina scent changed when Amren cut her. No, she'd save that secret for another time.
Sunday was spent with just Azriel, his body desperate for hers, he had warded the door, wrapping her legs around his waist as he fucked her slow and deep, relishing in each breathy whisper of his name.
Sharing her had been fun, but the male had been jealous all week, almost territorial as he her heard moaning another's name. They had both wanted to try an open relationship, and they had both loved it, but they found their limitations.
Azriel groaned as Sera tightened around him, her back arching her breasts into him. “So good, Sera,” she whimpered at his praise, legs wrapping tighter as she lifted her hips more. “I've heard all week how delicious you are, you know that?” She whined as he hit the spot no one had found all week. “But who fucks you best?”
“You.”
His pace picked up, now slamming into that same spot until her vision began to blur with tears. “Who's Mate are you?”
“Yours.”
She could feel that familiar edge. Azriel always brought her to approaching, head buried in his neck as it did, and nails clawing into his back. “Cum. Cum for me, Sera.”
And she did, body so worn and sensitive from endless fucking that she came, moaning and crying his name over and over like a prayer. He spilled into her, biting her neck as he did to leave a bruise, marking his territory and who she belonged to.
He collapsed above her, forearms falling next to her face. He placed soft kisses on her cheekbones, nose, and then lips, smiling as he did. “Good week?”
“The best.”
“Feelings on keeping our relationship open?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Gods, yes.”
“I think so too.”
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"You've ruined me, you know that?
Azriel kissed her shoulder. "Ruined you or freed you?"
"Freed," she said slowly. "I think you've freed me. Having no limitations on sex is-"
"Liberating?"
She nodded, kissing him again. "Liberating."
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria
Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist
@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566
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arminsumi · 1 year ago
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HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶
thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
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A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩
Wc ≈ 1.4k
Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader
Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.
Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out
♪ michelle
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It was nice while it lasted.
The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.
You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.
The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...
"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."
"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."
Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.
Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.
You weren't his type...
So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?
And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.
Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?
"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"
You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."
He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.
"Don't go!" He almost yelled.
His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.
Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.
"Please don't go!"
⁕⁕⁕
Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.
"So it didn't go well?"
Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.
"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.
Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.
"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.
A long summer breeze went by.
"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "
"She fucking hates me."
There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.
"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.
Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.
Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.
"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."
"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.
"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.
Will that really work? He wondered to himself.
"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.
⁕⁕⁕
There was a knock at your apartment door.
You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.
His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.
On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.
It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.
But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.
All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.
"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.
For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.
���⁕⁕
His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.
You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.
Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.
All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.
"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.
He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.
"I'm an asshole." he admitted.
"You don't say." you chuckled.
He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.
"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."
He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.
"Satoru."
"Yeah?"
He reared his head up at you.
"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"
He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.
"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.
"Am I being forgiven...?"
"Mhm."
He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?
"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.
"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"
You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.
"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."
"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.
The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.
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adventuringblind · 11 months ago
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Morning Kisses
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: Spicy fluff
Summary: Max can't help but worship the girl wrapped in his arms the second he wakes up
Warnings: sleepy make out, implied smut, praise, body worship, Max being a simp
Notes: request for @ashiekins I hope you like it! This one made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Side Note: This is to make up for my crimes yesterday... I hope I've redeemed myself!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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The morning rays of Monaco shine through the small openings that the curtains don't cover. The quiet hum of the city waking can be heard outside the apartment. The soft lapping of waves mingling with the buzz causes Max to forget this isn't a dream.
The girl in his arms is still breathing evenly. Her hair cast over her face, obscuring Max's view of her. He slowly moves his arm up to move the stray pieces away. The light hitting her skin gives her an ethereal glow that he can't get enough of.
Max could die a happy man in this moment. The definition of beauty and perfection is sharing his bed. Though, she would beg to differ. The insecurity the world has placed on her has made Max's compliments seem to bounce off a bullet proof vest.
His lips find their way to her shoulder. The spot left unmarked from their activities the previous night tempts him. He'd hate to disturb her sleep, but-
The intrusive thought gets the better of him as he sucks her skin between his teeth. She sighs in content, pulling his arms ever closer to her. "You could just ask, you know."
"Where is the fun in that?"
She turns to face him. Max loses himself in her beauty. His mouth hangs open like he's a teenage boy again; like it's his first time seeing her like this despite it being the thousandth.
"What's got you in shock this early?" She chuckles at his childish expression.
"I have the most beautiful goddess of a woman in my bed. Am I not allowed to gawk?" Max nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. The stubble of his chin tickles her skin and causes her to giggle.
She pulls away, but only a little. His face now cupped in her hands. Max is only a man - a weak one, at that. Her lips are too tempting. How could he deny himself the pleasure of kissing her?
His lips meet hers in the gentlest way possible. He'd hate to ruin this intimate moment with the clashing of teeth.
Her body melts against his as their lips move in sync. It's magical, the way the mold to each other. A dance they know by heart, yet every time feels like the first.
He playfully smiles against her lips. Dumbfounded that this is his life; that he managed to find someone he loves with all his heart and soul. The fingers that trail against the canvas of her body make her hum against him.
His palm comes to rest against her chest. The feel of her heartbeat, one that beats in tandem with his own, causes his own mind to blank. It's a soft, calm, and steady beat that lulls him into an even more relaxed state.
Max would spend his entire life worshipping her body. The one sculpted by Greek gods and blessed with the personality that makes him fall to his knees every time she speaks.
Max trails kisses everywhere he can reach without moving too much. An attempt to bless his lips with feeling every inch of her skin. Something he'll do for as long as she lets him.
When his eyes finally meet hers again, she's staring at him with adoration. The infinite and undeniable love she holds for him shown in her eyes.
"You are truly the love of my life, Max Emilian."
"And I will spend eternity showing you that I am worth of your affections."
It's her turn to smirk at him. "Maybe eternity should start now, then?"
Max chuckles and puts himself to work. The two descend into the mess of sheets and giggle with giddy feelings as the pickup where they left off the previous night.
If this is Max's eternity, if his forever gets to be with her, he'll never ask for anything else.
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kleftiko · 2 years ago
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❦ IMPATIENT
cw: mature, pregnant!reader, office sex, unprotected sex, oral fem!receiving, reid is a munch lol
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“baby, baby, i know.” spencer blabs in an attempt at reassurance. you continue to drag him down the hall. “can’t you please just wait ‘til we get home?”
“no.” you state firmly, pushing him into a closet. “this is your fault.”
he allows you to fumble with the button on your pants for a few seconds, amusement on his face, before he grants you mercy and takes over. he coos softly,
“i’m sure we both know this is not just my fault.”
an audible sigh leaves you as spencer pulls down your pants.
“you got me pregnant.” you complain.
“you wanted a baby.” he counters, but chuckles and he moves down onto his knees. “we were about to go home, anyway, you couldn’t wait?”
“why am i so horny?” you whine, tangling your fingers into his hair as you feel his hot breath between your legs.
“do you really want me to explain, or do you want me to help?”
you answer him by pulling on his hair. his hands brace himself against your thighs as you shove his face into your cunt, but he gets to work without protest.
the animalistic groan that leaves your mouth upon the first feeling of release spurs spencer on like nothing else. he swears he could cum just from the noises you make.
and he always snaps when he hears them anyway, something primal in his mind that just says ‘take care of her’ ‘take care of her’ that he can barely feel you desperately trying to yank him away from your drenched pussy. you’re so overstimulated after two orgasms on his tongue that all you can do is whine.
“i thought you wanted me to help you?” spencer’s eyes look up to you as he wipes his mouth.
“inside.” you whine, pulling him up. he obeys your begging, stroking your hair with one hand as he uses the other to undo his belt.
“shh,” he coos, “one second, baby, just one second.”
but it feels like an eternity until he has you sheathed against his cock. one leg of yours awkwardly held up around his waist, and a shelf digging into your back, but you’re finally content. so content, you could fall asleep like this.
but he can’t. eating you out has got him all riled up now, and remembering that he put a baby in you just gets him hammering into your poor pussy.
he doesn’t even care if someone hears—what are they gonna do? stand outside, listening to him fuck his baby mama, just to scold him?
“there we go, good girl.” spencer assures you as you start to fall limp, too overwhelmed with pleasure. “just let me finish up, okay, baby?”
you do all you can to try and nod your head, but it just blends in with the bouncing image of spencer fucking you against the wall.
he pulls you into a wet kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as you feel him stiffen up. the warm cum inside you makes you melt into him, finally satisfied for the time being.
spencer’s head drops onto your shoulder, a light layer of sweat on his skin and heavy breathing from his lips.
“let’s go home, baby.” he says.
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In Love and War (Pt 5)
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Summary: Seducing a Warlord is harder than Reader anticipated, especially when he seems so keen on taking care of her, but what happens when the past starts catching up with the present?
Content Warnings: SMUT (Porn with Feelings, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex); Mentions of Past Abuse; Drinking.
Previous Chapter/ Masterlist
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I thought years of hiding my true feelings and desires from my father and subsequently Tamlin would prepare me for this sort of thing. I’ve spent my entire life delaying my wants and needs, shoving aside personal feelings for the sake of duty. I’ve become a master of shoving my needs aside to tend to everyone else’s without ever letting it slip that this isn’t what I want. So why the hell is it suddenly so hard?
Why, when given an opportunity to finally see the encampment and take stock of supplies and fighting men, did I all but beg to go back to Rhysand’s tent? There’s suddenly this needy, desperate thing that lives inside me and one touch is not enough to satisfy the roaring in my blood. As soon as lunch was finished, I’d all but dragged a freaking Illyrian Warlord into my bed.
Hell, it’s not even my bed! It’s his!
I should be better than this, yet, as soon as the tent flap shuts behind us, I toss my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss like my life depends on it. His lips are so damn soft! Plush and full against my own, parting as I slide my tongue behind his teeth, trying to take in more of him. His lips are such a contrast to the rest of him, all hard muscle and fighting leathers and some irrational part of me feels like it might die if I do not feel that firmness between my legs again.
He wraps an arm around my waist keeping me flush against his chest and this top is so damn thin I can practically feel the scrape of leather against my peeked nipples. There's still too little friction; I reach a hand down to pull at the fabric, trying to maneuver myself around enough to get it off in hopes that he’ll touch me like he had last night. 
“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles against my lips.
“Please,” I whimper, trying to go in for another kiss, but missing in my haste, lips brushing over his chin. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for more. I need him to touch me, kiss me, fill me. Every one feels like it’s at war within me, fighting for dominance. I could cry at the understimulation, need pulsing through my veins like he might be the only thing keeping me alive.
I hate it! I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. I’ve gone years without sex. Have denied my desires and tried to be the good, demure little thing my father wanted so he could pawn me off. I played my part until I couldn’t take it anymore and found someone to scratch the itch who wouldn’t be brave enough to tell anyone what we’d done. But even then I hadn’t felt like this.
His hands slowly inch up my waist, his eyes glinting playfully as I squirm under his careful ministrations. “Didn’t you just fall apart on my hand?”
That might as well have been days ago, at the point.
My body feels like it’s on fire, every breath an effort as his callused hands scrape over my breasts. I want the motion repeated on my bare skin, thumbs circling and teasing my sensitive nipples.
“Please, Rhys.” I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to, I’ll do anything to ease this frenzied feeling beneath my skin. 
His fingers skim the top of my shirt, barely brushing my flushed skin. It’s too cold out for me to feel this hot. Am I getting sick? Do I have a fever? Why am I sweating?
He purses his lips, now pink and swollen from how forcefully I’d been kissing him, “Since you asked so sweetly.” He doesn’t bother pulling the top over my head, just grabs the collar and yanks, the material splitting evenly down the center before he hurls it behind me. 
The ease in which he does that makes heat pool in my core, and I clench my thighs together. A move that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially in this skirt, as he lifts me up into his arms, setting my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed. 
I put my lips on his throat, nipping and sucking marks into his skin as I grind my hips against his waist. More more more. How is this still not enough? I want these leathers off him. Want to run my hands over his tattooed chest, drag my nails over his shoulders and back; want to touch and claim as he does the same to me. 
Claim. The word makes my stomach twist in a bad way as he lays me down in the center of the bed, surrounded once again by all these pelts and furs that linger with the jasmine and citrus scent of him. I shouldn’t want to claim anything of his. Yet, as soon as I’m sat against the mattress, I push myself up enough to reach for the ties of his leathers, cinched tight beneath his left arm.
My body roars for more, despite all rational thought and protest. I need him like I need air, so desperate my hands are practically shaking around the ties. 
He chuckles as he presses another quick kiss to my lips. “Do you want help, mate?” His voice is lower here, a deep caress that feels like it wraps itself around my body. I shiver under the heat of it, trying not to acknowledge that I’m the only person I’ve heard him use this voice on. 
“Want you out of these. Now!” I hiss, moving myself onto my knees to get a better angle. 
He moves my hands lower, showing me an easier place to start unlacing them, and as soon as I get them untied, I push the leather off him and the bed, letting it clatter to the floor as I lean forward and place my lips to where his shoulder meets his neck. It’s a quick scrape of teeth, leaving a little mark before I follow the trail of his tattoos down his pectorals, nipping and biting as I go. 
I’m royally fucked, but I can’t stop. My hands are everywhere, tracing the plains of his body, until I get low enough to reach for the ties on his pants. There’s a little patch of dark hair beneath his navel, trailing down beneath his waistband and I head that direction with my lips. 
My lips brush the tip of that matching scar on his side, but I don’t stop to ask how he got it or who gave it to him. I know. And I don’t care. I don’t care what my father would have said if he knew what I was doing. 
I scrape my teeth over the little strip of skin visible above his waistband, my hands already reaching for the ties on his pants and he groans, a hand threading into my hair. He whispers my name like it’s a prayer, like this is something holy and divine, not this twisted sin I’ve made it out to be in my head. It certainly doesn’t feel like sin now.
These laces are easier, not cinched as tight as his chest piece, and I start pushing the leather down his hips, following the trail of them with my lips until the hand in my hair gives a little tug, halting me in place.
“Might be a little easier if I just…” a flick of his wrist and the rest of his clothes disappear entirely. A curious magic I’d like to see more of, later, when I can think clearly again. Even now it occurs to me that it would have been kind of hard to get him out of his pants while he was still wearing his boots. I’m not even entirely sure how I got the chest piece off without catching them in his wings in the first place. 
All questions for later. I’m sure a people with wings have made creative ways to put on and take off clothing, and maybe that would be something useful to know in terms of weak points in their armor, but I’m too far gone to ask as I drink in Rhysand’s fully naked form. I certainly hadn’t appreciated it enough last night. I could spend a very, very long time appreciating it now. He is miles of long, lean muscle and bronze skin, the sliver of light coming in beneath the tent enough to make him look like he’s glowing. Every bit of him has me itching to trace my hands over him, from the curl that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes all the way down to his very hard and heavy cock, now at attention against his abs. Gods he’s a lot bigger than I realized.
I get my hand around him as the hand in my hair yanks me up for another searing kiss, his lips hungry against my own. Beads of pre-cum dribble from his tip and I swirl my thumb over it as I get a better grip on his shaft and give him a testing pump. The moan he makes into my mouth, his eyes squeezing shut, chest heaving makes me think I’m not the only one that feels like they're on fire. 
I repeat the motion, just to hear that glorious sound come out of him again.
The hand in my hair slides down my cheek until he can get a firm grasp on my throat, fingers tight enough to make me gasp a little but not enough to restrict my airway. “Keep that up,” he rasps, lips brushing mine. “And I’m not going to last very long.”
It is a heady sort of glee that spurs me into doing it a third time, knowing that I hold even a modicum of power over this male. Everybody fears him. His prowess is legendary in both battle and in magic. Yet he sits here on his knees, pupils blown so wide I almost can’t see the violet, swollen lips parted in a gasp as I struggle to wrap a hand around his cock, completely at my mercy.
“Maybe I don’t want you to last very long,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper around the hand that holds my throat. Not because it hurts, I could pull free if I wanted to, but I don’t. The heat of him makes the burning beneath my skin feel like it’s lessening, soothed now by just the touch of his skin alone. “Maybe I want to see you come undone with just my hands.” 
He catches my wrist with speed I forgot he was capable of, before I can move on him again. “When I cum, I want it to be inside you.”
I clench my thighs together as wetness pools between them. “Death Incarnate only has one round in him, hm?” I manage to tease.
His eyes narrow, teeth flashing in a snarl as he pulls me off him and pushes me down onto my back against the mattress. His body is hot and heavy over mine as he slots himself between my legs. “Hardly,” his lips meet mine in a searing kiss that makes the room spin. “But we leave in thirty minutes and that’s simply not enough time to do everything I want to you.”
“We?” The word turns into a squeal as he gets his lips around my nipple and swirls his tongue over it. I pinch my eyes shut, back arching like I could push myself any farther into his mouth. 
“I meant what I said about you riding with me,” he says, hot breath over my now damp nipple making me shiver. He brushes his lips over my other one, teasingly. “And now that I have a taste of you, why would I leave you alone in our bed?”
Ours.
I whimper as he runs his tongue over me. He’s too good to be true. This has to be a wild dream. No male could feel this good.
He slides a hand beneath my back, arching my body so he can kiss his way down my stomach without having to bend down. I’m somehow still wearing a skirt, but only for a moment before he yanks it off my hips and tosses it over his shoulder. My whole body shakes when he runs his tongue up my center. I’d thought the under stimulation might kill me before, but this feels somehow like too much, even as my body begs for more.
“Rhys,” I beg like a sinner at the altar of an ancient deity in desperate need of salvation. 
He hums approvingly as he kisses his way back up my body and my legs instinctively open wider so he can settle between them. I’ve never been this pliant with anyone, nothing has ever felt this natural. His rightful place is between my legs, chest to chest, lips brushing over my skin as his callused hands settle on my thighs and drag me into whatever position he sees fit. 
He teases the tip of his cock against my entrance and if there was any chance I had a thought in my head aside from him before, it’s certainly gone now. I am not whole if he is not inside me. 
“Mate,” the word slips out of me as I babble and plead and get a hand around the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him into me.
That’s really all it takes for him to tighten his grip on my hips and sheath himself inside me, a growl rumbling through his chest as he buries his face in my neck and nips at my tender skin. 
The stretch of him inside me is too much and yet not enough and I rake my nails down the sharp contours of his back, even as my legs wrap around his waist to take him deeper. I have no idea what I’m doing any more, only that I need him everywhere all at once.
“Say it again,” he whispers in my ear, voice so low and husky the muscles in my core twitch. He hasn’t moved an inch, like he’s letting me adjust to the sheer size of him, and I am grateful for it but it’s also the worst kind of torture because I need more.
“Please?” he continues, lips pressing a lingering kiss beneath my ear. “Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.”
It’s just a word, and I’ll say anything to get him to start moving. “Please,” I brush my nose along the side of his throat, taking in the full, rich scent of him. “Need you, mate.”
His movements are impossibly slow for someone who claims we have to leave in half an hour, the drag of his hips as he slides out of me an even worse torture than him not moving because I can feel every empty space inside me.
“That’s my girl,” he praises and I think my eyes might actually roll back into my skull as he slides back in a little more forcefully this time, his lips meeting mine as he rocks down to meet me. 
My whole body chases him, hips rolling to match his thrusts, nails still sliding down his back. There is no beginning and end to us, just the motion of our bodies and the pleasure that licks its way so intensely up my spine I think it might rip right out of my skin if it’s not released soon.
“Rhys.” He keeps hitting a spot inside me that makes stars spin across my vision and I’m all too aware that I’m babbling nonsense as I lose myself beneath him, but I’m too far gone to notice the tears that slip from my eyes from the overstimulation until he reaches out to brush them away. 
“Do I need to stop?”
I’d rather gouge out my own eyes!
I’d sooner crawl across hot coals then ask him to stop.
“No!” It comes out like a squeak, my voice cracking and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more vulnerable than I do right now. “Please don’t stop!”
His lips brush my damp cheeks, his motions slowing, and my heart clenches in my chest. We’re too vulnerable again. This is just supposed to be sex, just scratching an itch, I’m not supposed to feel anything, but when he looks at me like he is now, like I’m something worthwhile, I feel my heart stutter in my chest. I want more of that too.
“I’m not hurting you?” He asks. 
“No,” I assure. “Feels good. So good.”
His lips find mine in a gentle kiss. “You’ll tell me if it doesn’t.” Not a question, but a demand. 
I nod as I thread my fingers through his hair and kiss him again, body arching into his next thrust. Pleasure licks white hot up my spine and I’d squeeze my eyes shut and fall into it if the sight of him above me wasn’t such a spectacular one. His wings flare out behind him, filling the tent, dark hair sweat dampened and tousled from my fingertips, lazily falling across his forehead. The muscles in his arms and shoulder ripple as he holds himself upright just enough to not crush me with the full weight of him, but when he rocks into me again I arch my back so our chests brush, just to get another feel of his warm skin on mine. He’s every bit a dark angel above me and I don’t know if I want to trace the patterns of his wings or keep running my nails down his back until I’m familiar with every ridge and plane more.
I want this to last forever. Dangerous territory, I know, but I am too blissed out to care. He’s good at this. Good at making me feel good. I’ve never been with a male this attentive to my body; I’m convinced it's an experience more addictive than any drug. 
He slides a hand between my legs, deft fingers finding my clit. “Later, when the wards are settled, I’ll take my time with you, see what other pretty noises I can drag out of you.”
I’m pretty sure the noise I just made at the circular motion of his fingers and the driving pace of his cock is as lewd as I can get, but I also thought I was more in control of this situation than I truly am, so who’s to say?
“But right now,” he purrs in my ear. “Right now I want you to cum for me.” Each word is punctuated with a thrust of his hips.
And who am I to deny him when he speaks like that? When his hands and body move inside me like that? One more thrust and an expert flick of his fingers and I’m gone, careening over the edge so fast I scream.
He follows right after me, spilling so hot and heavy inside me I can feel some of his release dripping out between my legs.
Fuck. For all my plans to ruin his life, he very well might just ruin any other male for me in the process. 
Even worse, I’m here driven by this aching need to be filled and even though he’s finished, he still peppers feather light kisses over my neck and jaw as he slides out. He’s impossibly gentle as he rolls both of us onto our sides, his large hands soothing down my back as he tucks me beneath his chin, holding me tight as I come down from this new high.
My heart aches like it’s a separate, living, breathing thing outside of my head and all its plans for revenge. 
Damn him!
“Are you ok?” He rasps, still catching his breath.
I let myself listen to my heart for a moment, burying my nose in the crook of his neck and letting my eyes fall shut. I cannot remember a time I’ve ever felt this content. “Perfect.”
One of his wings settles over us like a blanket, creating a little cocoon of warmth as the heat that had consumed me starts to finally fade.
He kisses the top of my head, hands still tracing patterns in my skin.
“Your wings are a lot lighter than they look,” I murmur into his shoulder. I should move, should pull away and put as much distance between us before my heart gets any more ideas about what has to happen here, but my body refuses to.
“We don’t typically let people close enough to realize how delicate they are,” he admits. “The right cut can make it damn near impossible to ever fly again, we are trained as children to protect them at all costs.”
The urge to touch them is damn near overwhelming, so I run my fingers over his tattoos instead. “So why do you need horses if you can just fly?”
“My people did the most damage to Hybern’s armies in the War,” he explains, stretching his wings out and settling them again. “The Night Court’s aerial forces were unmatched, until he got his hands on the Cauldron and blasted most of us out of the sky. After his victory, he used the Cauldron’s power to create a barrier in the sky. Fly too close and it zaps you with enough energy to fry your wings right off your back.”
I shutter at the thought. 
“It’s high enough that we can glide, but never enough space to really fly. We still train our fighters, here in the canyon, but save for a few elders, there’s no one here who’s ever been able to follow the siren call of the wind and really fly.”
“Not even you?” I tilt my head back to look at him and he places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I’m not that old!” He returns. 
“That must be hard,” I muse.
Rhysand finally unfurls himself from around me and sits up. At this angle I can see all the scratch marks I left on his skin, but beneath them is a network of scars over the same swirling tattoos on his chest and arms. 
“I dream of a day it’s not like this,” he says as he leans over the edge of the bed to find wherever he tossed his pants. “A day where we’re all free.”
I stretch my stiff muscles. It’s a pretty dream, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s all it’ll ever be. No one has ever beaten Amarantha, let alone Hybern. 
“Are you the only one fighting Amarantha?” Knowing who his allies are might be useful information. I have to keep telling myself that’s what I’m here for, that I need to keep asking the right questions when the opportunity presents itself. 
“For now,” he returns as he pulls his pants on and climbs from the bed. 
A moment later, he returns with a damp towel and grabs me by the ankle and drags me to the edge of the bed to clean up the mess he made between my legs. “I had some clothes sent over for you.”
His hands are nothing but gentle as he cleans me up, no teasing or amusement, like he might really just care about getting me cleaned up and not getting anything in return for it. This time, my whole body freezes at the contact; I don’t know what to do with this. There is no purpose here, no goal to be reached with this kind of touching. 
“Maybe while we’re out you can find some way for me to pay you back for them,” I say instinctively. It’s habitual; no one gives anyone anything for free.
But he’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “They’re a gift.”
I’m gonna start clawing at my skin! He has to stop this! I need him to show me who he really is, because this version of him is starting to freak me out. He’s not supposed to be anything like this! 
He slides an arm around my waist and lifts me onto my feet. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
My hands might actually be shaking. My legs certainly are, but that’s a matter of what we’d just done and not the unease that swirls itself around in circles in my stomach. “But you barely know me.”
“I know enough,” he assures. 
A flick of his wrist and a new pair of clothes appears in his hands, including a new set of boots. “I hope they fit, I made a guess of your measurements. We can get you fitted better when we return in a couple days.”
I take them numbly, my head still spinning. None of this is how I anticipated this going. “Thank you.”
“You were gonna catch your death in your old ones,” he says as he moves away to let me change. 
My gaze lands on my old boots by the edge of the bed, the holes I’d worn into them from years of use painfully visible. I’d asked Tam for months to help me get new ones, he’d always said I hadn’t done enough to earn them.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I hurry into the dark pants and matching sweater. They’re both heavy and warm, if not a little too long. I have to roll up the sleeves on the sweater and the hem of the pants to keep them off the ground, but they’re both in one, solid piece-- save for the slits in the arms of the sweater, baring that fresh swatch of ink across my bicep--keeping the chill out. And the boots have fur! I could have climbed back into my old clothes and still been warmer with just these boots alone. 
Rhys comes back to my side a moment later, holding a sheath and a dagger as long as my forearm. “I’m gonna assume you know how to use one of these?”
My mother had taught me the weak points to aim for, had secretly shown me how to hold my wrist and step into a thrust. My father would have left me defenseless otherwise, and neither my mom or I had ever mentioned how many times those simple lessons had saved my life. But I would never say I had formal training. I was not allowed to train with the males. I only knew how to shoot a bow out of necessity and my own secret efforts of watching other people do it. 
“Well enough.”
He frowns at that. Taking the dagger by the blade, he holds it out to me, watching with rapt attention the way my fingers wrap around the hilt. The frown doesn’t leave until his hand covers mine, adjusting the grip, then his free hand bends my arm at the elbow, showing me a position I’ve held a thousand times, but he pushes his weight against me, testing the grip.
“Good.” His hand comes to my wrist and brings the blade to the left side of his chest. “Here if they’re not wearing armor, right between the fourth and fifth rib.” Another quick pull and he has the blade between the gap where his chest piece meets his shoulder. “Under the armpit if they are wearing armor. If you can’t get that angle…” the last stop of the blade is at his throat.
“I did try this on you,” I remind.
The frown finally turns into a grin. “I haven’t forgotten, Darling, but it never hurts to make sure.”
He slides the blade effortlessly from my hand, and before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s kneeling at my feet and sliding the straps for the baldric around my thigh. It’s not even the casual intimacy of the action that has my brain short circuiting, but the fact that Death Incarnate is on his knees for me that makes all rational thought fly from my head.
“It’s not too tight?” He asks.
“No, it’s good,” I mutter.
His hands slide up my thighs, holding my hips as he tilts his head back to look at me. “Do you like the sight of me kneeling before you, mate?”
My treacherous heart thunders in my ears. “Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, heat already pooling between my legs again, as if he hadn’t just been inside me.
He gives my hips a little squeeze before standing. “Something to try another time, I think.” Rhysand leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear before his full lips press a lingering kiss against my jaw. “I think I’d very much like to watch you fall apart on my tongue from that position.”
It is an effort to swallow. An effort not to grab him for another kiss, pull him back into the bed and back on top of me. It’s like the last time didn’t happen five minutes ago, it might as well have been days ago. My blood is starting to feel like it’s on fire again and I can’t seem to get a handle on it like I usually do. 
A cough in the doorway spares me from acting on my newfound impulses. It’s Cassian, smirking in the doorway, his long hair pulled back away from his face. His own fighting leathers gleam with a new polish, a giant broadsword sheathed between his massive wings. I shiver at the sight of him; these are the Illyrians from our stories. 
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he says with a smirk. 
“You say that as if we didn’t use to bed females in the same tent when we were younger,” Rhysand returns. 
I glance back and forth between them. It’s not unheard of, especially when sleeping spaces are tight, but the thought of having an audience for what we’d just done makes me clench my thighs together. I never thought I’d be much of an exhibitionist, but I also came on this male’s hand in a room full of people not that long ago either.
Cassian smirks like he knows what I’m thinking of, hazel eyes roaming over me in my new clothes. “Shared a few too, if I recall.”
Rhys flashes his teeth at him, a growl rumbling through his chest. “Choose those next words carefully!” Shadows drift from his shoulders, slithering out from underneath his wings. 
But Cassian doesn’t balk, he laughs. “Mating bond chafing a bit?”
Rhysand curses something in Illyrian at him as he goes to one of the chests and starts rifling around. “Did you bring what I asked for or are you just here to be a pain in my ass, like usual?”
Cassian holds out what looks like a twin chest piece to theirs, only smaller. “Both.”
Rhysand finishes pulling things out of the chest and snatches it from him. “Horses ready?”
“Saddled and waiting. Most of the men too.”
“Good. We’ll be out in a minute.” Rhysand says in dismal.
Cassian looks my way and winks, “Only lasting a minute these days, huh?”
A wave of dark, glittering powers hurls Cassian out of the tent so hard I hear the thwack of his body landing in the mud, even though he’s too far away for me to see it. 
“Bastard,” Rhysand snarls, more to himself than anyone, as he stalks back over to me.
“They’re not fighting leathers, but they’ll be an extra layer of protection, just in case,” his tone immediately softens, shadows retreating as he steps back into my space to strap me into the chest piece. It’s lightweight and durable, the leather thickest in the front and back, with a lot of ties on either side. Not complete coverage, but coverage enough to save me if someone attacks me with a knife. He laces it for me, taking his time to assure the pieces are all in place. 
“Thank you.” 
Next is my bow and arrows, and as if in apology for the way he’d ripped them off of me last time, he slides the strap over my head and under my arm. Though I don’t miss the way the worn leather strap has been replaced with a new, sturdier one. 
“Didn’t want you to lose these,” he says, fiddling with the belt.
I feel guilty. All these gifts and this obvious affection are starting to press against me like lead weights. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”
“I’d hardly call basic necessities gifts,” he retorts.
“I haven’t done anything to earn them,” I say, looking anywhere but at him. 
His hand comes to cup my cheek, turning my head back to look at him. “Who told you that you had to?”
The words catch in my throat. I already said too much to Mor yesterday, I don’t need to start running my mouth here and give away too much to Rhysand now. I am here to get information, not give it. “No one,” I mumble.
“No one is going to hurt you,” he says gently. “You can trust me, you know?”
“That’s just how we did things back home,” I say. 
His wings twitch behind him. “Not here.”
I nod and he presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “We should get going.”
Please, before my guilt starts getting so loud that I admit something stupid or lose my nerve. Maybe going on this ride is the safest thing to do. Sleeping with him is starting to feel like it’s getting too many emotions involved. Maybe I made a terrible mistake starting this way instead of another.
---
We ride out with thirty other males. Only three of them bring a companion with them, everybody else is heavily cloaked and armed to the teeth, supplies for several days' journey strapped to their saddlebags. Cassian, Mor and Azriel among them. Rhysand and I, atop his midnight black mount, lead the way back out the canyon, with the others on our flank. The rest follow behind in a somber procession. While the execution and following meal had been boisterous, this feels like everyone is holding their breath, expecting war to be knocking on the wards. 
My body feels full of nervous energy, fingers ticking against my thigh the closer we get to those giant winged statues that guard the pass. It looks even more treacherous in daylight than it had at night, yet these horses are as sure footed now as they were then. 
Rhys rides stiffly behind me, one hand on the reins, the other loose against my waist. He has that star flecked cloak on again, the long folds of fur lined fabric enough to keep both of us warm. I’d almost forgotten about it until he’d slid back into it right before we mounted. 
The scent of overripe fruit reaches us as we draw closer to the edge of wards, and we pause briefly here to let a scout pass ahead of us. Only when the rider returns do we all pass through, the heavy press of power making my hair stand on end until it's once again sealed shut behind us. It is strange to be outside of it now. I am used to always moving, never planting roots because I had always been told no such places existed after the War, but now that I’ve had a taste, I strangely miss it. 
If the others feel the same, they don’t say so. We continue to ride for hours in silence, until we finally come out of the canyon into the grassy plain beyond the Mountain Regions. When the path is no longer narrow, the procession fans out around us, the sound of shifting hooves and riders no longer an echo in the open space.
“I half expected an army,” Cassian admits to our left. Mor rides with him, her own cloak shrouding her face, but there are wisps of blonde hair peeking out from underneath the cowl.
I feel rather than see Rhysand shifting around behind me as he looks around. “Split off. Take half the men and strengthen the wards to the left. The rest will handle the right.”
“Last attack came from the north, she won’t be foolish enough to use the same approach twice,” Azriel cautions. 
“So be prepared,” Rhysand says to Cassian. “Half your group on lookout, other half on repairs. I don’t want any gaps.”
Cassian nods, his horse dancing beneath him in response to his own nervous energy. “We can do it, but I think it’s smarter to stick together.”
“Keep a scout ready, check in at dusk and again at dawn. If we need to regroup we will. I’d rather not leave multiple blind spots if we can help it.”
Cassian barks out the orders and half the men split off without a word, leaving the rest of us standing there, monitoring the grass until they pass out of sight. Rhysand waits, mount turned towards where they disappeared around a bend, following the base of the mountain, to ensure there is no sound of scuffle before leading us the opposite direction. 
“How do you repair a ward?” I ask as he guides the horse to the base of this side of the mountain. I can’t feel the wards here like I could in the canyon; I’m not even sure they’re intact here.  
“Think of it like weaving a tapestry,” he explains, the hand around my waist leaving so he can stretch out his arm. Where his gloved hands should meet air, I see the faintest ripple, like he brushed a very transparent curtain. “You have to weave all the strands together in the correct pattern and order to make a cohesive picture. Sometimes, the thread gets tangled, or frayed, and you have to pluck out the thread and start over.”
“But you use magic instead of thread?”
A glitter of stars trails from his fingertips, dancing and swirling in the air like they might braid themselves together. “Yes. My ancestors used a ward stone in the heart of the mountains as a cornerstone, then used their magic to pull its powers out and form a hedge of sorts.”
A ward stone. 
Was that something I could steal? Or break maybe?
“I thought Hybern used the Cauldron to destroy such things?” I can’t sound too eager, but I’m finally getting somewhere and I can’t waste this opportunity. 
“Not all of them,” Rhysand explains. “There are a few in existence that were buried or were hidden from his sight.”
“And they’re powerful enough to shield a whole region?” If so, it’s probably not something I can move out of here, but maybe it can be damaged. Its very existence gives me options. Tamlin would kill to even know Rhysand was using one.
“With regular maintenance,” he says. “That’s why we regularly do stuff like this.”
“Will we get to see it?”
His shadows drift off him, poking at the rippling power that makes up the shield, looking for weak spots. “No, not for this.”
I try not to let my disappointment show. At least the knowledge of how it works is something profitable to take back, I draw comfort in that, but still, the doubt that it’s not enough to let me get back home gnaws at me. I need more. I need enough to have this ink on my arm forgiven. 
“Does it hurt you?” I ask. “To use this much power?”
“It’s taxing, but it’s not painful,” he assures. “Not usually anyway. If there is a fight to be had, then maybe the strain of both things at once would cause some discomfort.”
I put a hand on his thigh, “Good.” To my dismay, I think I actually mean it.
----
We make it a fourth of the way around the mountain before we stop to make camp for the night. By this time, the sun has long since set. Nighttime is a sight to behold out here, the sea of stars and full moon are enough to make me wonder how much better it could have possibly looked if the Night Court had remained intact after the War. 
I make myself useful and set up the tent from the supplies Rhysand packed while he finishes dolling out guard duty to the men. At least I am not totally useless. I even manage to get the mat for us to sleep on all set up by the time he comes back, the single layer of fur a harsh contrast to the amount that adorns his bed, but it’ll do. It’s still more comfortable than what I had waiting for me back in the Grasslands. 
He looks tired by the time he kicks off his boots, a bit of red streaking his eyes from the strain of weaving the wards for hours on end. He hadn’t lied about it being taxing then.
Azriel lets himself into the tent a moment later. “Cass checked in. Nothing amiss on their end. Wards are looking good, Mor got nearly as far as we did before they made camp.”
“Good,” Rhysand rolls his shoulders and neck, wings flaring behind him as best he can in the confines of this much smaller tent. Both he and Azriel have to stoop when they stand. “Guard duties have been assigned, everything looks normal so far.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Azriel replies, his gaze flicking momentarily to me. “We’ll cross over where we ran into them last time. Even knowing they won’t strike the same way twice is enough to put me on edge.”
“You’re always on edge, Az,” Rhysand replies. “You should sleep.”
Azriel huffs and disappears as quickly as he’d come, a bit of shadow trailing after him. 
With camp set up, there’s not much left to do other than dole out some of the rations that had been packed and settle in for the night, but I do wish I’d had anything to pack that would have given me something to do with my hands. Going to bed with threats knocking on our door has never been anything new, but it never gets any easier either. 
“Do you think we’ll run into Amarantha’s men again?” I ask as I split some bread, hard cheese, and dried meat between the two of us. 
He produces what I initially thought to be a waterskin from the supplies, but it turns out to be wine instead, a bit of the red liquid dribbling down his chin as he takes a long drink. It has been a long day, riding has not lessened the soreness in my muscles from our earlier escapades, if anything I should want to stretch out on the mat and sleep for a very long time. Instead, the path that little bead of wine makes down his chin makes me want to climb into his lap and lick it away. It is an effort to focus on the food in my hands and eat instead. We got a little too vulnerable last time, I need to be better about how and when I offer up my body if I want to make it out of this with some semblance of my soul intact.
“She is vindictive, but she is patient,” he muses, leaning back on his elbows. “If not now, then in a few weeks. She will not take our little gift kindly.”
“Why poke her at all?” I blurt. “You have all this, why risk it?”
“This is a fraction of what we used to be,” he says, but his eyes grow distant, like he’s looking somewhere far, far away. “And she and I have unfinished business, I will not be satisfied until I have her head on a pike.”
I’m glad he is too distracted to see the shiver that works its way up my spine. It’s a good reminder of who he really is. I will need it to keep my wits about me. 
I take a bite of bread, weighing my options. I should ask what kind of business would prompt such a response, but that conversation with Mor stops me. He’d loved someone else and she was gone, given what I knew of him, that seemed like enough, and I didn’t have it in me to talk to him about lost loves. That was too vulnerable. 
He gives himself a little shake after a few minutes, clearing whatever cloud was in his head, and takes another long drink of wine before passing it over to me. I should stay as far away from the wine as I am his body to preserve some semblance of self-control, but I can’t think up a good excuse to not if he were to ask why. There are too many things in my head tonight. One sip can’t be too bad, right? 
The warmth that spreads through me is addictive, helps the stale bread and the guilt that’s been sitting in my chest all day go down easier. The next sip is more of a very long drink, until the bitterness of the grapes doesn’t taste so terrible.
Silence stretches out between us, nothing but the sounds of our chewing and the quiet passing back and forth of the wineskin. There’s only a single lantern for light, swaying in the breeze of the open tent door. Beyond us, the camp rustles as it gets ready to sleep, but someone in the distance is singing a song in Illyrian.
“Can I ask you a question?” Rhysand asks a moment later, the silence stretching between us bordering on uncomfortable now.
It’s my turn to have the wineskin again and it freezes halfway to my lips. Shit!
I force my voice to be even as I say, “I’ve been asking you questions all day, it’s only fair.”
He sits up, dusting some crumbs off his chest. “How trained are your powers?”
I don’t know what question I thought he was going to ask, but it was most certainly not that. “There’s…” I flex my fingers, thinking of the way Tam’s claws slide in and out at will. I’d only ever summoned my own twice. The first was an accident, when I was twelve or thirteen. I’d had my first cycle and my hormones were all over the place, I’d been trying to scrub a persistent blood stain out of my skirts and when it wouldn’t come out I’d gotten so pissed off the claws had come out to tear the fabric to ribbons. The second… the second had been the night my parents died. “There’s not enough to train.”
Which makes this whole mate thing make even less sense, because how am I supposed to be this male’s equal? If he sits still for too long darkness starts leaking out his skin like it’s trying to escape the confines of his body. Sometimes if he steps down too hard I can feel the power of him rattle the earth. He is called Death Incarnate for a reason. And I somehow barely have enough for a few party tricks. 
He inclines his head to study me as I take another long drink of wine. My head is starting to feel a little fuzzy with how much I’ve drank and I pass the skin back over before I lose my last shred of self-control.
“But your mother’s power surpassed your father’s and it certainly didn’t pass to Tamlin,” he muses. 
The warmth of the wine leaves me in a rush, only the cold mountain air in its place. He’s wrong. Wrong about their power levels, wrong about Tam, wrong for even mentioning them in the first place when their blood is on his hands. 
“We never talked about it,” I grind out through my teeth. There are too many things on my tongue and I feel my control quickly spiraling out of reach. “And nothing ever manifested.” 
“I only ask because I haven’t seen you expel any magic, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. It’s fine if you don’t have any, as long as you’re not hurting yourself trying to hold it in, is all I meant.”
I shiver, arms wrapping around myself as a gust of wind whips through the tent in a ghostly howl. “It can hurt?” 
“It can drive you mad,” he replies, standing and offering me his hand. 
My legs wobble a bit, the room spinning and he keeps a hand on my waist to steady me. Only when he’s sure my footing is sure does he let go enough to help me untie my chestplate. I should have drank a lot less than I had.
We climb silently onto the mat, nestled under the fur, and I fully expect to go back to sleeping back to back now that our moment of horniness has passed, but he wraps himself around me, wing once again draped over us. It’s like our own little pocket of warmth.
“My mother used to say the trees talked to her,” I whisper, his words clinging to me as tightly as he is now. It’s probably the wine, but I can’t get the nagging feeling that I’m seeing the wrong picture as memory after memory drags itself to the surface. My mother had bouts where she wouldn’t talk for weeks, just staring off into the distance. I remember being a kid, holding her hands and talking for hours, making up stories like the ones she’d tell me at night, trying to get a reaction out of her. 
“She’d wander off into the woods, rambling about it and I…”  Those bouts always ended with her having slipped out of the tent, searching for things she insisted were calling to her. “I learned to track by following her footprints and helping her get home.” She never remembered leaving. And I’d get her back home, helping clean the mud and leaves out of her hair, braiding it out of her way and making her presentable before my father returned to see her missing. There came a point where I’d stopped sleeping to make sure I could catch her before she got too far out.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently, warm breath ghosting over my neck.
I shiver despite the heat of him. My father couldn’t have known, right? He would have helped her if had thought it was her own magic not being released. He wasn’t that cruel.
He wasn’t!
“I know a lot of males who chase after power so they can breed it in their sons,” he continues.
I want to put my hands over my ears. 
I want my lungs to stop feeling like they might cave in on themselves; my heart to stop feeling like it might just beat right out my chest. He. Is. Wrong. He has to be!
“My father was like that too,” he admits. 
I don’t know where the words come from, or why my mouth moves without me thinking about it. “I guess we’re all just products of our fathers.”
I’m prepared for the consequences of such a truth, but I’m definitely not ready for him to say, “Guess it’s a good thing they killed each other then.”
-----------
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Thank you all for your patience! <3 Please let me know if you also want to be added to the taglist or if the tags didn't work, I'm still working out why sometimes they don't.
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agentzedbooks · 7 months ago
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*Written while high and horny.*
Imagining someone with some magical ability, and they cause my breasts to swell up a cup size. Of course I’m instantly wet, and breathing hard. I ask her for more, and she says no, that I haven’t earned it yet. She says I have to beg for it. This just makes me hotter, and I have to decide if I’m willing to degrade myself just to satisfy my kink. As I appear undecided, she reaches out and gives my chest a light caress, telling me if I just say ‘please,’ she’ll give me a little more. I whimper slightly at her touch, and before I realize it, I say ‘please.’
She snaps her fingers, and I feel that intense pleasure as they swell up again. I almost bark out another ‘please,’ and another snap, another swell, more waves of mindless bliss. I don’t know it, but as my titties grow, my brain is shrinking. I’m now sporting some respectable handfuls, C cups about, and her hands go to my chest again. Her touch turns my knees to jelly, and I am putty in her hands. She smiles and lets out a satisfied chuckle. She asks me if I want to go bigger. I say please! She wags her finger and says, “Please, what?”
“Please make my tits grow,” I moan out. She snaps her fingers, and they swell again. I’m almost on the floor, and her silky touch is sending my brain into blank, empty bliss. She slides her fingers into my mouth, and I’m reflexively sucking on them. She then trails them down my chest, my belly, and stops just above my slit.
“Beg me,” she whispers.
I can’t think, too overwhelmed and lost in a fog of arousal. “P... puh... please... make my titties big!”
“Good girl,” she says, and the swelling begins again, and I’m so close to cumming I want to touch myself, but can’t actually focus enough to do it.
Soon, I am on my knees, as my top is close to ripping open, and I am kissing up and down her legs, begging through gasps and moans for more, to go bigger.
“Good girl,” she says, and my tits balloon up, and the fabric starts to tear. It hurts for a second, then my gorgeous new titties are free! My tits are so huge now, and I look down at them swinging freely in the air, nipples hard and so sensitive I can feel the air moving over them. I try to talk, but only desperate whimpers come out. I’m riding the edge and too far gone from pleasure to think.
“Do you want bigger?”
I grab my giant new tits and the pleasure sends me to a whole new level of blank, blissful arousal. I can only nod to her, and give the weakest of whimpers in the affirmative.
She snaps her fingers again, and I feel the flesh growing in my hands. I’m cumming, but it’s shallow, and only makes me more desperate, aching for a sexual release. She laughs at me.
“What a good little dummy doll,” she says, “Hmmm, let’s see, you need some evening out.”
My tummy cinches and my ass plumps just a little. My hair falls in front of my face and it’s suddenly bright blonde and wavy. It all feels so... right. I coo at the touch of my Mistress, who looks me in the eye and asks me “What are you?”
“I’m a dummy dolly,” I say, and she kisses me, melting what’s left of my brain. My tits swell one more time and my cunt explodes with pleasure. I float on a cloud of pink orgasmic bliss, and yet..l and yet I still need more. I’ll do whatever my Mistress wants to get more. No more icky thoughts, just fuzzy pink brain and tits. Love tits. Love MY tits. Dummy dolly wants to play!
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sarahisslytherin · 11 months ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART III)
summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n' angst! a/n: third part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II
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You hung your coat up on the rack, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. You made your way into the parlor, lifting a hand to dab the sheen of sweat on your forehead. Your mother and father’s muffled voices could be heard from one of the rooms, but you had no time to eavesdrop.
You scurried up the stairs to your bedroom, anxious to read your letter, to hold it close as if holding your admirer’s hand. He (whoever he was) was your comfort, a safe place. You swung the bedroom door open and rushed to your bureau, your eyes widening in disbelief. It was gone. You searched through the drawers, beneath your pillow, in the pockets of your coats, but it was nowhere to be found. But it wasn't until you heard your mother's displeased call for you downstairs that your heart sank entirely.
You fled down the stairs to meet her. There she stood, fire in her eyes and your letter crumpled in her fist. “Tell me, what is the meaning of this?” she demanded.
“I, I-”
“I tire of begging that you see suitors, that you find a suitable gentleman to marry. But no! You’d much rather waste your youth away on meaningless words scribbled across a parchment!” she cried. “Well, I’ll have you know that this nonsense will go on no longer!”
“Mama, please!” you begged, tears now streaming down your crimson cheeks.
“I won’t hear it, young lady! You will forget about this mystery man who delivers only false promises and pretty prose. You will go to the Bridgerton ball tomorrow night and you will dance with whichever gentleman will have you!” she yelled, and with that, she tore the letter in half before letting it fall to the floor. It was as if you had felt the tear straight down the middle of your heart, and you sank to your knees by the foot of the staircase.
After a moment, you both caught your breaths. Your mother placed a shaky hand upon your head and spoke with a more empathetic tone now. “I only wish the best for you, you must know that. You deserve a good man, something real and tangible that will give you peace of mind and a worriless life.” You nodded. You understood, but you couldn’t bear the thought of a life without love. It pained you so to envision one for yourself. “Breathe, child.” she cooed.
Your father’s voice boomed from the far end of the hall, calling for your mother. She gave the crown of your head a chaste kiss and ran off to your father. You were still on the floor, a creamy white pristine as your future if you could find someone to court you tomorrow night. Pristine and so incredibly dull.
You wiped the remainders of your tears away, your cheeks sticky from where they had poured like two waterfalls. How would you go on without your letters? Without the breathing, living proof that true love did exist. But your mother was right. It wasn’t proof. It was an illusion, a trick of the light; pretty prose and nothing more. You knew this, yet you couldn’t help collecting the two large scraps of parchment by you on the floor. You held them up, pieced them together.
My Dearest, 
I wish I could find the words to express just how much I wish to be with you. I wish mine to be the last face you see before bed and the first you see in the morning when you arise. When I see you, a fire burns deep within me. A desire to reach out, stroke your cheek, to scream “‘Tis I who sends you these letters! ‘Tis I the fool who does not dare approach you!” Well, I’m done with that. Truly, I am. This is my last letter to you. I will not torment you any longer. I will be there, at the Bridgerton Ball. I will find you and reveal myself. If my feelings are unrequited, worry not, darling. One word from you and I shall leave you be. But, if the opposite is true, I would be the happiest man alive. Until then, my love.
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months ago
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I loved Worship but it got me thinking about like what if someone kept calling her mean stuff during the show and just boys reacting to their girl getting slandered tnx
Guess who got carried away? 😂 I love it guys, thank you for popping into my ask. I really love seeing your ideas!🤍✨
Sleep token x reader
For the record
It’s the usual shenanigans that get the show going. Considering that everyone was in a good mood tonight was already labeled to be a solid night. It always felt the best like this. When everyone was fully relaxed and enjoying themselves. You had lingered back with IV before the show, too lost in bickering until it was him messily making sure that your headset was on before someone thrust his guitar into his hands. A little wink. A little nudge. And it was back to the place you had grown to love. Crave deep within your soul.
It’s behind II that you sing some of your most beautiful solos. Finding your way up on his seat while his hands go up and down your thighs. Mostly trying to make sure that you don’t fall back but enough to seem that he’s more than happy to sit between your thighs while you stand above him. It’s the fleeting kisses that you keep sharing with IV tonight. One after another, every time you pass by. Till it’s almost funny when he’s right in front of you. Pretending as if it’s an unexpected bump in. It’s Vessel that you fall to your knees to and he’s more than happy to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in only to push your face to the side. Making you fake fallback as you lay your limp there for a couple of beats. Enjoying the roar of the crowd. III manages to trap you in between his guitar and you as you both swing to the beat. Your fingers trailing up and down his thighs.
But it was the odd eyes that you kept on landing on. First row. Right in front of you. Ones that made you sick to your stomach. Ones that you tried to avoid. But you kept on coming and coming back. And it’s when you come towards the edge of the stage to sing yet another part of your siren song that you hear it. “Cheep Whore”, “Band filth”, “Shared bitch”. Rolling in and in. With more and more people turning their heads towards the people screaming at the tops of their lungs.
And it’s as if the words had scorched you. You find yourself backing away. Till you hit something solid and warm. A hand coming to steady you. But you pull back just as fast. Turnning to find a pissed-looking Vess. “Keep going”, your mouth, letting yourself trail your gaze over the rest of the band. Only to find another three pissed faces. You grab Vessel’s hand, pulling him closer, “Do the rest of the show the way it was supposed to be”, you begged, “Leave it and keep going. They will follow”.
A wave of relief washes over you as he steps away. Continuing the next song. III blazing eyes are the next thing you see but you just shake your head at him. Even if the poor pick gets thrown across the stage and not in a nice way. But they stick through. Faces tight. The atmosphere off. The magic faded. The feeling was lost. You stick to the furthest part of the sage, doing your parts as if glued to it. The moment the last sounds of the cords fade, you’re turning onto your heel, diving backstage.
You feel stupid almost, that something that was going on in comments and posts for some time now had finally made you slip up. Cause you didn’t care. Not really…. right? “Y/N”, a bang sounded at the door making you flinch, “You in here?”. A part of you wants to keep quiet. Let this fade into the back too. But you hear the commotion, not enough to understand what the bickering is about, before a much louder banging ring through the quiet space. “Open the door”, IV's voice is much more strict than II’s. The agitation oozed out. “I am taking my makeup off”, your voice cracks, and your silent scream into the void within because you know that they would have heard it. “You take it off in the bus while we drink, don’t start bullshiting me now”, IV rattles the hand and you suddenly start to wonder how long it would take for him to break the door.
“Look”, II cuts in, “I get it, you want to be by yourself but we kind of got a situation going on with III”, and it’s enough to make you step closer to the door. Because you care about them and if III is flying off the handle it would be your fault. “What happened?”, you mutter, pressing your face against the door. You’re met with silence but it’s enough for you to know that they are looking at one another now, silently debating their next words.
“Jumped off stage and took off towards the pit”, and that’s enough for you to yank the door open. You just don’t get to go as far as two pairs of hands pulling you back. “Come here”, you hear IV mutter before you were met with II's embraces. The warmth of him cutting deep through you. Making your eyes sting. Yet you pushed back, trying to escape them both. “Let me go, let me talk to him”, you wheezed. “It’s taken care of”, IV cut in, “He’s backstage somewhere, you don’t need to worry”.
You looked up at them, “You tricked me, idiots”. IV reached to catch your face, “You ran off, locked yourself in a fucking bathroom. What do you expect that we baked you cookies?”. “IV”, II hissed, “What he was trying to say is that we care for you and that shit on the stage shouldn’t have happened”. You fist II shirts, trying to keep your composure, “I don’t care and don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it”, you sighed in frustration. You needed out, or you would cry and you hadn’t yet done that in front of the boys.
“This is a mutual choice”, Vessel’s voice fills the space, “If we mess around, we mess around together. One of us having to take shit for it is bullshit”. And that’s when you see him. Rubbing his left hand’s chuckles. Your whole body drains from your body. “You punched him didn’t you?”, you mutter, already thinking of all the articles. And what for? After all the years of staying out of bad PR. Your legs move on their own accord and with a couple of steps you are wrapped up in III’s arms. “For the record, I missed”, he grunts. And that’s the thing that snaps the last bit. A strange strangled noise leaves your lips before you can clap a hand over your mouth. The look in III eyes shifts, “I would go back there, just saying”, he mutters before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.
“I need Chinese tonight”, II throws it out in the open. Making the salty stream of tears down your cheeks feel less pathetic in a way, as everyone snorts in their toes. “I call dibs for the bus bed tonight”, Vess points out and it’s as if nothing had happened. The same dynamic between you five talking is usually formed. “You’ve slept there for the last two stops”, III is quick to remind him, yet his eyes are still on you. Quietly assessing the real damage. “And before you say it, you aren’t special because you’re long and skinny”, Vess simply flips III off before the room is once again filled with laughter. You feel soft hands brushing against your chin before your head is gently nudged upwards. Meeting IV eyes within a blink. “Head up, little siren”, he muses, brushing the tears off your cheeks, “Can’t have you loosing your spark”. You nod tightly, trying to not let another wave of emotions cloud your eyes. “For the record, I would eat you out”, III shrugs, making the rest of them chorus his name with curses following right after.
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azurlily · 8 months ago
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Guess whose not dead?!
(This is an actual post with a character, just scroll down to the pink bow if you don't want to read this.)
I was in and out of the hospital for a long time. I'm sorry I haven't been writing, but I'm doing so much better. I've closed requests so I can catch up on the ones I currently need to do.
I also wanted to mention some of the newer works(that AREN'T being requested) that I plan to make will probably be either smut or darker stuff. It's a way for me to cope and I enjoy writing altogether.
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Yandere!CEO x Fem!Reader
Morena(yan!ceo) x fem!reader
Synopsis: You're a young woman working in the tech industry, you know people(mostly men) don't take you seriously. Due to the constant stress of needing to be better (just to be considered good) you are constantly anxious and jittery, you've also developed a depressive mindset and you consistently struggle with taking your medication.
You just got a new job by a large, female owned, tech company! You thought you'd feel better and you wouldn't have to deal with a toxic environment. You were dead wrong; your boss is a bitch and expects constant perfection and no less. You were just barely able to make it under her radar, until she starts going through files- and you find yourself in her office with a deal you just aren't allowed to refuse.
Not like you can refuse a demon after all?
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TW: Non-consensual kissing and physical touch, somewhat mentions future kidnapping.
The reader is kissed(while under a spell that takes away will-power from their body) and is forced to sign a contract against their wishes.
You stand quietly, with your hands in front of you- clasped together so tightly you'd think you were about to get in your knees and pray. But no, instead you were ready to beg to not be fired.
That's what this was right? You were getting fired and your horrible, asshole, bitch-faced boss wanted to say it to your face. You could cry, you almost did on the way here.
Yet as much as you wish you weren't in this situation, as much as you wish you could repent for whatever you did; you genuinely have no idea why you've been called here. You've never gotten a write up, all your reports are clean and bug free, and you work well with seemingly everyone.
You stand face forward, staring at the woman who decides wether you get to eat for the next month. The same woman who while you hate her, you can't -no you won't- deny her beauty. You-
"Hello?! Do you hear me or are you too busy pissing yourself to pay attention?"
You look down, wondering if you genuinely did pee yourself, only to see dry pants and floor. You look back up at her and she gives you the look of someone who both wants to laugh and yell(not in the good way).
You wondered if there was something who had tried to sue her for how rude she was. I'm sure there could be some sort of case, as long as there was proof. Hell, even witnesses would do.
"Sorry, ma'am. What exactly is it you called me for? Has my team done something wrong, did we miss some meeting, or did-"
She stands up, slamming her hand on the desk so loudly it echoes. You nearly jump out of your skin- was she going to hit you?!
"Be quiet. I can't handle you prattling on like a cow. I'm not firing you, nor am I firing anyone on your team. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Oh and please- call me Miss Morena. Thank you."
Oh she is definitely a condescending bitch.
You thought for a moment, 'quite the opposite'. So you aren't getting fired, hell you may be getting a raise! Maybe Morena wasn't so bad of a boss. Maybe she just likes hard workers.
"Thank you, ma- Miss Morena. If I may ask: does this mean I'm getting a promotion?"
Morena smiles, not the smile you give someone when they're right about something. The smile you give when you're a fox, and you've just cornered the bunny you've been trying to catch.
"Yes, a promotion of sorts. I actually have a contract for you, but I can give you the gist and read the rest to you later."
Morena pulls an inch thick stack of papers from the desk. She sets them aside with a pen and slowly steps out from the desk. Morena signals you to come closer, but you only take a few steps forward. You could practically feel how badly this situation was going to go.
As Morena got closer, you began to feel more compelled to make eye contact with her. Like someone was whispering into the back of you mind, telling you to look up. To look into the beautiful blue eyes that Miss Morena holds. To never look away; keep your eyes on hers.
Don't look away from me. I always get what I want and that isn't changing anytime soon, little rabbit.
"Well I've been looking over employee information and I noticed you moved from very, very many jobs before you got to this one. Never staying in one place. I never really liked people like that, and from what I've seen, people like that have done the same with my company. Now I hope -very strong word here- that someone with skills like yours wouldn't do something to this company. I hope that you'd stay, willingly of course. You would stay willingly, right?"
Of course you would, you never had any interest in leaving. You planned to stay past the one year mark, past the time where everyone would get raises in order to ensure you were getting a that this place was a good opportunity. You loved it here, you loved you teammates, your boss, you loved the office building itself.
"Of course I'm staying, Miss Morena. I would never leave."
The words coming out of your mouth felt robotic, they felt like you were lying to yourself and others. Like you were in your body, but you weren't the one speaking.
"Good girl, now go over to my desk and sign you name on all of those papers. Don't read them, you don't need to. You can put all your trust in me."
You did exactly as you were told, you signed every paper with you signature. You didn't even think, your body was moving like second nature. You had this warm feeling in your gut, this safe and controlled feeling. You like feeling like this- don't you?
You hear some shuffling behind you and yet you can't turn around to see what's going on. You only hear a voice.
"You know while your under I guess I can explain. You can't really yell at me or try to run away, so I can speak my peace. You're going to be the newest human I suck the life out of! But hey, for the next few months you'll get to live lavishly and without fear of anything. Other than me of course!"
Your brain registered what she was saying, but you couldn't respond. What were you doing to do? What could you do?
"Come here bunny."
You turn around and walk straight into Morena's arms. She gently grabs your face, you just noticed three of her fingers on her left hand have been filed down. Meanwhile the nails on her right hand, as well as her pinky and thumb on her left, are long and colorful.
Morena pulls you closer to her, her lips ghosting over your mouth. You feel her press her lips to yours and you get an overwhelming feeling of disgust wash over you. You feel nothing but utterly dirty as she kisses you, you feel like someone's just stabbed you and is trying to clean the wound to make themselves feel better about the act.
Your eyes are wide open the entire time, so you watch Morena go from kissing you deeply to pulling back in what looks to be shock. Her pupils dilate slowly, her eyes relaxing and you see nothing but black take over.
"Oh...oh you're much too sweet to kill."
Morena gently moves you head to the side pressing her tounge against your neck. You feel her shiver and watch as she pulls back with a dark smile on her face.
"I take back what I said about you enjoying these next couple of months. . . You'll get to enjoy such pleasures for the rest of your life. With me."
You let your body process her words this time, you don't know how to react. Instead you feel your eyes wet themselves, your expression hadn't even changed. And yet, you were crying. Morena notices almost immediately and you watch her face distort itself into a disdainful look of annoyance, until it twists into one of sadistic pity.
"Oh, shh, bunny. Hush now, stop those tears. I'll take the spell down once were home, in my home you wont be able to run away. So you can have a tantrum all you want there. I know you don't like me right now, you maybe even hate me, but give it some time. You'll realise you need someone, and I'm the best you'll be getting for the rest of your pathetic human life."
Everything goes black after that.
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ev3rgreenxtrees · 8 months ago
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First Choice
-M.S {pt 1}
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Synopsis: Your best friends with Nicolas Sturniolo. He’s been your best friend since the third grade— you’re now in your senior year. What happens when the brother you don’t get along with all of the sudden needs you to fake date him?
Pairing: good girl!fem!reader (she/her) X bad boy!Matt Sturniolo
Warnings: Cussing, arguments (not angst. yet.), slightly suggestive, cigarettes, mentions of alcohol and drugs, use of Y/N.
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<*•*>
“Please, Y/N..” Matt begged, his eyes pleading— unlike how you’ve ever seen him. He’s always been such an asshole to you. Since you’ve been friends with his brother, Nick. On the other hand, Chris was sweet. You never understood why Matt couldn’t be like Chris.
But here you are. Matt was now begging you to be his fake girlfriend. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to, or why he needed anyone to, in that matter.
“Why, Matt? What am I getting out of it?” You scowl, annoyed at the boy, who refused to let you leave the now empty classroom. All of your other classmates were already at lunch, but matt stopped you to ask this ridiculous question.
“Well- I..” Matt sighed, embarrassed in himself. Matt was a very good looking guy, and had his fair share of hookups and girlfriends, but never once did you think he’d be begging you to fake date him. Ever.
“Don’t you dare fucking tell me it’s to get back at your girlfriend.” You state annoyed, just wanting to head to lunch.
“Well, not really..” Matt mumbled. “Okay. Listen to me.” The boy states, as if he hadn’t already had your full attention. “Me and Lacey broke up— obviously, and everyone was teasing me for it, saying I fumbled and shit. Like, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, and even fuckin’ Chris wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, so.. I may have accidentally told them I already have a new girlfriend..” Matt mumbles shyly, and you couldn’t help but snicker.
“No fucking way.” You squeak, trying to hold back your laughter. “You fumbled bad, and your friends are fuckin’ with you for it, so you want me to help you? When have you ever gave a fuck about helping me? All those times I needed a ride or something from the store when you were already out?” You scoffed.
“Y/N, please..” He whines. “c’mon, I’m beggin’ ya..” He pleads. “Fuck, I’ll even get on my knees if ya want me to,”
“Matt, get the fuck up.” You demand, feeling awkward about him kneeling down in front of you. Part of you, however, thought it was cute. The way his hands were intertwined tightly, his hair covering his eyes slightly, but from what you could see of them, he was looking up at you longingly. “Matt. Up.” You demanded more stern this time.
He obliges, quickly standing up in front of you, a glint of hope in his eyes.
“Why me..? Why am I your first choice?” You question. It wasn’t a random question. If you were to agree, this would be something you feel is need-to-know.
“You’re the most believable. Not because your looks or anything like that, but because I’ve known you longest.” He tells you, but the way he speaks makes you think he’s not telling you the complete truth.. but close enough- right?
“Okay— But first, we have to lay ground rules. No kissing me, at all. Second, not too much PDA. I hate PDA in general; and it doesn’t help that we’re not actually dating. Third, pet names and stuff are fine, but never get cocky with me. Okay?” I ask, keeping my voice clear. Being truthful, I wasn’t so sure why I agreed to help him. But I did.
“Really? Thank you!” The boy squeals happily, pulling you into a hug. You tense at his touch, something you haven’t felt before. It wasn’t bad— but it was definitely new. He continues to mumble small ‘thank you’s, before letting you go. “Can you sit by me at lunch? It’ll make it more believable.” He asks.
You reluctantly agree, not quite sure how he was so open to asking you things like this. Asking someone to ‘fake date’ you is something you’d have to work up years of courage to ask someone to do. He immediately slips your hand in his, pulling you out of the empty classroom— the same one he had pulled you into randomly moments before.
You look down at his hand in yours as he wandered down the halls, pulling you behind him. He looked so happy. When you both arrived into the packed commons, he pulled you to the table he usually sat at, your friends giving you an odd look as you strolled right past them, hand-in-hand with your sworn enemy.
The table Matt sat at consisted of his closest friends, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, Luke, Nicky, and his brothers, Nick and Chris. You weren’t familiar with Kyle, Jordan, or Luke, but Nate and Nicky sometimes came over to the triplets house when you were hanging out with Nick.
“Y/n..!” Nick yells, but his voice quickly trailing off. “Matt..?” He says in an unsure tone, his head tilting. “Why are you here?” He questions.
“Guys,” Matt speaks up, grabbing everyones’ attention. “This is the girlfriend I was telling you about.” He states proudly, but almost seemingly unsure of himself. Girlfriend. It sounds different hearing it from him.
“No fucking way.” Nick gapes, his jaw slack.
“Yes fucking way.” Matt teases, before taking his usual seat. “Hold on. You can sit here, sweetheart. I’ll go grab myself a different chair.” He hums, standing back up from his seat after he realizes there was no open seats.
You were taken slightly aback. Obviously Matt would have to act like this, since you were ‘dating’, but it was something you definitely weren’t used to.
“Y/N! You’re insane!” Nick says, holding back a laugh. Your leg bounced slightly as you realized everyone at the table was staring at you.
“Hm? How so?” You asked confused. Was Matt not a good person to date? Obviously he wasn’t nice to you, but thats because you hate each other. He always seemed so sweet and gentle around his ex.
“Matt..?” Nick furrowed his eyebrows judgmentally. “You guys.. hate eachother..?” He questions.
“No, we obviously don’t, Nick.” You correct sweetly, as Matt pulls over a chair to sit next to you. Matt almost immediately noticed that your leg was bouncing, so he gently rested one of his hands on your knees reassuringly.
Even though you told him not to touch you, you do find his touch quite soothing. You glance over at him, and he offers you a slight nod, before his attention goes back to the table full of his friends. Maybe— Just maybe— this whole ‘fake dating’ with Matt wasn’t such a horrible decision after all.
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『 ↳✧・゚ Finn yaps❕ ;
sorry this chapter is kinda short, i just wanted to make the first chapter shorter and show how the fake dating came to be <3
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍
ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @slut4mattsturn @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @thenickgirl
divider creds to @v6que 🤍
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 8 months ago
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Hello dear, "will you pray for me" will have a second part? bc the first is magnificent 😋🫣
WILL YOU PRAY FOR ME? ( House of the Dragon x Reader ) Pt. 2
AUTHOR NOTE! Yes. I need to write more of Aegon so that I can make the perfect mix of TV SHOW and BOOK! Aegon for my fic, 'THE CONQUEROR REBORN'. [ Yes that is me shamelessly promoting it. Check out the link for it in my previous posts. ] <3 pairing: DARK! Aegon ii Targaryen x Fem! Hightower! Reader prompt: Aegon returns back from the Battle of Rook's Rest, seeking comfort from his bride-to-be. Only then does chaos ensure. word count: 1, 298+ words
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As soon as he had left the Sept. You prayed, and prayed, and prayed to whoever would listen to your sobs and prayers. It did not matter if it was the Gods of Old, New or the forgotten ones. A twisted part of you praying that Aegon did not survive the battle, that he would be dead. That you would be spared of being his second wife. You did not wish for it. To be married to him nonetheless, not when the glint in his eyes made it clear that it would not be a pleasant marriage. 
When the aching of your knees grew too much from praying for hours on end, you returned to the Red Keep. Hoping that Alicent or even Otto would confirm it was Aegon playing a cruel jest on you. But, when Alicent burst into tears, begging you to forgive her for not protecting you hard enough. It was then that you realized Aegon was being serious. Dead serious.
You would be his bride, his little thing, the thing he would use to warm his bed, to do whatever he wished. Not unless you found a way out of it, one that would keep your reputation still in tack. So lying about being a maiden would not work. Then, it clicked, a betrothal. 
Aegon would not be able to protest if you were already promised to another. The new task came in finding someone to marry you. Someone of decent standing, who would be willing to offer just enough protection from Aegon. That’s where Lord Redwyne came in. From a good House and standing, kind and loyal. A good ally to the Green’s. To lose him would be a costly thing. It was perfect. You were saved. 
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Holding the hand of Lord Redwyne, you give him a gentle smile, happy that he was willing to take the burden of protecting you from Aegon. No matter how many times you had said your thanks, it felt like it would not be enough. Not many men would dare to do something like this for a woman, many saw women as things, not people. So for him to do such a thing showed that he either cared, or it was a matter of pride and defending his honor. 
Watching as the carriage slowly pulls into the courtyard, you shift in place, fear bubbling up within you. You did not know how Aegon would react. Would he yell? Would he get violent? Would he demand of you both to be thrown into the Black Cells? Feeling a gentle kiss be placed on your knuckles, you turn your head away, feeling at ease at the caring gaze of Lord Redwyne. Instantly feeling better, you look back, watching a now injured Aegon limp out of the carriage. 
“Rook’s Rest is ours. Now, where is Y/n, I wish to see my bride.” Aegon states, a smug grin tugging at his lips. 
“Aegon, let us speak⎯” Alicent tries to interfere.
“No, Mother. Where is she?” Aegon cuts in, his voice cold. 
Not daring to speak up, you look him over carefully. His left side was wrapped in bandages, with tiny specs of burnt flesh peaking through. His armor was charred only on the left side, leaving you to guess that he had been attacked on the left side on dragonback. Feeling his predatory gaze shift onto you, you resist the urge to cower, using Lord Redwyne as a shield. 
“What is this?” Aegon states an unnerving lack of emotion in his voice. 
“I am betrothed to Lord Redwyne, your grace. I am unable to marry you as my hand is already taken, your grace.” You explain, hoping it would be enough to deter him.
“No.” He states, “No.” 
No? Was he honestly just saying no like it would change anything?
“Ser Cristion, kill Lord Redwyne, dispose of his body how you see fit. Lady Y/n will be coming with me to my chambers.” Aegon states, almost as if he was speaking of weather and not murder. 
Feeling the blood drain from your face at his casual orders, you turn to Ser Cristion, the Hand just as equally shell shocked. He was not serious, was he? He wouldn’t dare to kill Lord Redwyne, an ally of his, someone that he needed to win the war. This could not be happening. Looking between a stone-faced Aegon and Ser Crisiton, nobody moves or says a word. 
It was just palpable tension in the air that brewed in the stillness. Glancing over to Lord Redwyne, he only stares Aegon down, the two clearly size each other up. Surprisingly, Lord Redwyne doesn’t back down, still standing toe-to-toe with Aegon. Which only made the darkness in Aegon’s eyes grow more and more. 
“You can either break the betrothal with Lady Y/n and leave a living man, or I will kill you myself and still take her as my wife.” Aegon states, cutting the silence. 
No. No. No. This could not be happening. This was supposed to be your escape. Your way of getting rid of him.
“I suggest you pick the latter..” Aegon adds, “Before I decide that mercy is below me.”
“Your grace, you cannot be⎯”
“No, no, I am. Now, like I said, leave before I decide that mercy is below me.” Aegon argues, a dead serious look on his face. 
Looking at Lord Redwyne, you prayed that he would not back down, that he would stand up for you and refuse to let you become Aegon’s second wife. Feeling tears tickle up in your eyes, Lord Redwyne pulls your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. There was a glint, a glint of regret and sorry in his eyes and you just knew. He was going to leave you. 
He mutters a quick, ‘I am sorry, my Lady.’, before swiftly leaving you with Aegon.
“No..” You whisper, your voice so soft that it nearly went unnoticed. 
“Wise choice, Lord Redwyne.” Aegon smirks, the feeling of doom crashing down on you.
“No..” You whisper, a single tear falling down your cheek. 
Holding back the tears that continued to bubble in your eyes, it took everything in you to not start sobbing as realty crashed down on you. No one, not even the most honorable men, would be willing to protect you from Aegon. You would be his bride. It would be happening whether you liked it or not. 
Feeling a bandaged finger brush against your cheek, you are snapped back to reality, remembering who stands next to you. Turning your head to go over and look at him, there is a smug smirk tugging at his lips, the healing burn scar just above his left eyebrow only making him look more sinister. 
“Come, my little bride. I need someone to tend to my wounds.” Aegon orders, dragging you by the wrist. 
----
@lovelykhaleesiii
@fragileheartbeats
@danytar
@nightvers
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