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#Watch Free Full 18 Presents
tvsmovies · 2 years
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Watch Free Full 18 Presents
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Release Date : 01/02/2020 (IT)Category : DramaProduction : Country : ITRate : Cast : Benedetta Porcaroli,Vittoria Puccini,Edoardo Leo,Sara Lazzaro,Marco Messeri,Betti Pedrazzi,Alessandro Giallocosta,Filippo Gili,Laura Obiols,Elisa is only forty when an incurable disease takes her from her husband and their daughter. Before her heart stops, Elisa finds a way to stay close to her: a gift for every birthday up to her adult age, 18 gifts to try to accompany her child's growth year after year.Elisa is only forty when an incurable disease takes her from her husband and their daughter. Before her heart stops, Elisa finds a way to stay close to her: a gift for every birthday up to her adult age, 18 gifts to try to accompany her child's growth year after year.Film critic PETER (Groucho Reviews) CANAVESE reviews the #Netflix Italian drama 18 PRESENTS on CELLULOID DREAMS THE MOVIE SHOW (5-11-20) SCREEN SCENE (with program host TIM SIKA). Produced by LARRY JAKUBECZ for #KSJS (90.5 FM) and #RadioSausalito (1610 AM).Italian Netflix movie 18 Presents (18 Regali) is a real hankie-loader, the perfect thing to watch if you’re over-hydrated and under-swollen. It’s about a pregnant woman who learns she has terminal cancer, and maps out gifts for her unborn daughter’s first 18 birthdays. Here’s the kicker: it’s based on a true story, and the baby girl’s father is credited as one of the film’s screenwriters. So the burning question is, will you need 100 tissues while watching it, or 200?The Gist: It’s 2001. Elisa (Vittoria Puccini) gets the crushing diagnosis. Cut to a few months later, in the hospital nursery. A somber Alessio (Edoardo Leo) plucks baby Anna from the bassinet. It’s just the two of them now. We see home videos featuring birthday cake and pinatas; Anna gets a toy kitchen, a new bike, some diving lessons, a piano she thinks sucks. Soon, she’s on the cusp of 18 (Benedetta Porcaroli), sullen and moody with a mouthy, rebellious streak.Anna and her dad squabble. She runs off and ends up getting tagged by a car. The driver is — hold onto yer hankies — Elisa! It’s 2001 again, the exact day of her diagnosis. The hospital is not where they go, since Anna’s OK, but rather, back to Elisa and Alessio’s house, the same house where Anna grew up. She starts putting two and two together to get eleventy-nine, because she apparently traveled through time and is now in the presence of her intrauterine self.Somehow, Anna doesn’t hyperventilate or check herself into the nearest asylum. No, she goes upstairs, sticks her face in her mom’s robe and inhales deeply, as people in movies always do. She somehow manages to move in with her parents, who don’t know they’re her parents, because why would they? She just concocts a sob stor
g trip in terms of time.” — Alessio trying to explain death to an eight-year-old Sex and Skin: None. Our Take: Happy Belated Mother’s Day, Mom — I got you a crateful of Kleenex! Despite the fact that it’s a true-blue dyed-in-the-wool grandmommy of a weeper, 18 Presents isn’t overly manipulative. It treats its characters respectfully, doesn’t deviate into cartoonish comedy and unravels the core mystery with surprising conviction. It’s not as predictable as it seems at first glance, save for the inevitable sobbing. There are two types of people in this world: Those that get mad when a movie makes them cry, and those who just give in to the moment and soak the couch and drive the cats out of the room. Problem is, the movie tends to dramatically loiter during an extra-draggy second act. Structurally, it’s pretty inventive for this type of movie, with its twisty, fractured narrative and occasional surreal flourish. But it doesn’t really stick the landing; these characters just don’t have any profound examinations of self and reality in them. It’s as if the movie exists solely to squeeze the living shit out of our tear ducts, wringing every last dribble of liquid from them with a steady, ruthless hand. Our Call: SKIP IT, although 18 Presents has me on the fence. It’s better than most shameless tearjerkers, but isn’t quite ambitious enough to transcend the banalities of its genre. Should you stream or skip the Italian drama #18Presents on @netflix? #SIOSI #18Regali — Decider (@decider) May 12, 2020 John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba. Stream 18 Presents on Netflix Watch free movies and tvshows on VidooTv
Watch Free Full 18 Presents
Watch Free Full 18 Presents
y and they buy it. Elisa and Alessio work through the complications of her illness; she starts making a list of all the gifts she wants to give her daughter; and Anna just kind of hangs around for months, helping out here and there. Elisa experiences maternal stirrings around Anna, and she might not think about or wonder why, but we know why, and that’s what you call classic dramatic irony, folks. Will Anna inspire her mother to name the baby Anna, putting a mighty deep gash in the fabric of space and time? Will Anna come face-to-face with herself? Will a mystical genie show up to explain everything? No spoilers, but this time loop has gotta give eventually.What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: 18 Presents features the type of wot-the-heck supernaturalism of stuff like The Lake House — or, I dunno, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? — crossed with a disease-of-the-week TV movie calculated to make you heave snot across the room as you blubber and wail.Performance Worth Watching: Hats off to Puccini — who stars in Netflix series The Trial — for showing a reasonably complex range of emotions, which keeps the movie from getting too maudlin or sentimental.Memorable Dialogue: “Your mom went on a long trip…not a long trip in terms of distance, but a lon
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theoldsports · 10 months
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Mistake.
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.2k words
SMUT 18+ ONLY | murder, manipulation, dubcon, mutually assured destruction, some bondage, gun violence. everything, really. danger!
The floor of Coriolanus and [Y/N]’s bedroom used to be hardwood. She would hear him on his way in when he worked late at the Citadel. The creaking floorboards typically snapped her out of sleep. Recently, Coriolanus decided on carpeting the room, full well knowing that he often woke up [Y/N] with his returns. If she stayed asleep, she asked less questions. The carpet was rich and purple. Tastefully purple, like a mauve. Coriolanus did not tolerate tacky like most ‘Capitol Phonies’ as [Y/N] called them when he would get agitated with couture, fashion and consumer trends.
When Coriolanus entered the room tonight, he was not concerned with waking his lover like usual. He was furious and he wanted attention. Coriolanus threw the door open with a bang. He came in like a shot. [Y/N] sat bolt up right in bed at the unexpected noise so late at night. She went from asleep to over alert. With practiced ease, she yanked open the bedside table’s white drawer and reached for the handgun Coriolanus had gotten her as an anniversary present. The wife of a young Senator couldn’t afford to take risks.
[Y/N] extended her arm, pointing the gun where her tired eyes spotted movement and undid the safety. She blinked once. Then twice. It was clear that it was Coriolanus, not a murderer. Not a murderer that would do her harm, anyway.
“Fuck!” Coriolanus said, raising his hands in surprise. “Darling, it’s me. Drop it!”
She would have known his footsteps if he hadn’t put in carpet.
“Coryo, good god. Don’t do that!” [Y/N] screamed. Instantly, she snapped the safety back on and dropped the gun back in the drawer. “I could have shot you! What time is it?”
“I—I don’t know! Late!” Coriolanus shouted and shrugged his jacket off. “Fuck!” [Y/N] watched his burgundy coat smack into the wall as he tossed it in frustration. Coriolanus didn’t usually get visibly angry. Instead, he got cold. There was door slamming sometimes to end an argument, maybe dirty possessive sex, but normally, he became calculating vile to be around instead of petulantly rage-filled.
Today must have been a bad day.
He almost got shot to top it off.
“I’m sorry,” [Y/N] said like she was attempting to defuse a bomb. She had only had to speak to him like that once or twice in her years of knowing him. Normally, Coriolanus found that tone condescending. “Coryo, come here.”
Coriolanus made no mind of her words. He continued to pull off his clothes a layer at a time clumsily. He pulled at his hair, he groaned sounds of anguish barely below a holler, he even threw one of his beautifully polished shoes across the room. Real, adult male rage. The kind you stayed away from.
“Coriolanus Snow, you’re going to hurt yourself!” [Y/N] shouted. “You’re gonna… hurt me, or break something. What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] said cautiously while she climbed out of bed in her nearly transparent red nightie.
Coriolanus breathed heavily. He was trying to sooth his anger. He knew this behavior, this blackout rage, was unbecoming. His eyes focused on [Y/N]’s, and then [Y/N]’s throat, then [Y/N]’s dress, and what was visible under [Y/N]’s dress. His breathing slowed a bit and he pushed his loose curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand.
“You still with me?” [Y/N] asked, stepping into where he stood. “Coryo, look at me,” [Y/N] commanded. She reached out with a hand as if Coriolanus was a wild animal that might bite her and slowly placed it on the side of his cheek. Gently, she guided him to look down at her. He stared down at her almost expressionlessly. [Y/N] reached up with her free hand to tucked Coriolanus’s long hair out of his face. “What happened? The truth, preferably.”
“Where… Where’d you get that nightgown?” Coriolanus deflected.
“Bought it last week.”
“It’s very striking on you. You aren’t cold in that thing?”
[Y/N] shook her head and dropped her hand from Coriolanus’ face. She thought her window for some sort of talk about why he had behaved like that had latched closed. “No.” She sighed. [Y/N] spent another moment examining Coriolanus with her eyes to make sure that he wasn’t hurt or completely falling to pieces standing before her in merely his crisp black pinstriped trousers and belt. Once she felt her once over was sufficient, she turned to walk back to the bed to lay down.
“I… I lied to someone when I should have told them the truth,” Coriolanus started as [Y/N] climbed back under the pristine white covers on their bed. “It was a miscalculation and I suspect it’s going to take… work to… eradicate the rest of problem entirely.”
He was incapable of saying ‘I made a mistake and my actions have consequences’ like a normal person. All the same, relinquishing that information cost him a lot emotionally. He didn’t share burdens. Coriolanus didn’t share anything.
“This was another Senator?”
“It involves another Senator, yes,” he said. “It’s inconvenient.”
“Fix it,” she said. There was no more advice to be offered on the subject without argument and she knew that Coriolanus would fix it, by whatever means necessary. [Y/N] patted the bed beside her again. “Come to bed.”
Coriolanus climbed into bed stiffly and laid beside [Y/N]. He settled for laying in an uncomfortable, temporary position because he did not expect to fall asleep in his pressed slacks. She wrapped an arm around him and yanked him on top of her, forcing his head to rest on her chest. Coriolanus liked it when [Y/N] let him use her like a pillow. [Y/N]’s heart went so fast when he was near like that. Coriolanus wondered if it was because she was afraid of him. He smiled.
“Did you get this nightgown for me?” Coriolanus asked. He traced the sheer fabric around one of [Y/N] nipples and watched the bud become stiffer with every rotation. He did that to her, not some no-talent, inexperienced Senator who probably couldn’t keep his own dick hard.
[Y/N] scoffed with her bottom lip captured between her straight teeth. “Who else?” She said plainly.
“You got all dressed up in this and I didn’t even get home on time, huh?” He said, sounding almost disappointed. Coriolanus’ finger slid under the strap of the dress and snapped it against her skin.
“There’s always tomorrow. It’s not like I don’t live with you,” [Y/N] chanced sliding her fingers into his hair. Coriolanus often hated when she touched his overly manicured hair, but [Y/N] knew he found it soothing in a moment of private vulnerability. She knew he liked the attention. [Y/N] tangled her fingers in his white blonde hair, combing out the product he had put in it that morning to hold it in place. Coriolanus let her. “You’re so tense. Relax.” [Y/N] said.
“Can’t. Go back to sleep, Darling. I might go for a run, think.”
“…You could discuss your miscalculation.”
Coriolanus was silent. That was a no without saying no. [Y/N] tugged his hair carefully in frustration. “Please stay here with me. If you go out, I’ll be all nerves til you’re properly back with me,” She said. “Stay. I’m awake now… Blow off some steam. The adrenaline of pointing a gun at my husband’s going to keep me awake for a while too.”
“I never should have bought you that,” Coriolanus said firmly, but maintained a smirk. “If I stayed with you all day, you would have no reason for needing the gun. You wouldn’t ever have to wear clothes either. Well, what you’re wearing now is hardly clothes to begin with.”
“I’m sorry. About the gun, not the nightgown,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus stole kisses across parts of her exposed and covered chest. Eventually his mouth came to rest over her clothed left nipple, with his teeth giving it a gentle tug. “Coryo…” [Y/N] whimpered.
“You want me to relax, here’s me,” Coriolanus leaned up and kissed [Y/N]’s lips. “Relaxing.” He smirked.
[Y/N] genuinely never did know if Coriolanus was out-of-his-mind obsessed with her, or if he told her what she wanted to hear because that kind of talk made Coriolanus feel better about himself in a roundabout way. Either way, she got something out of it, so complaining at this stage felt unimportant.
Sustaining two deluded minds in a relationship meant both parties had to consistently 1) lie, 2) obsess over minutia, 3) fuck.
See, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t just fucking either. The pair could not love. Something had happened to each of them that made real romantic or intimate compatibility impossible. Their intentions for the other weren’t selfless, but they mutually let other believe they were.
They were perfect together.
They had unified strength, a need for control and that beloved little thing that made them work: obsession; fundamentally. To hear one of them talk manically about the other, was to see the face of God. To each of them, the other was the only person who had ever kept them from getting bored, so they made it work. It was the endless chase that kept them going. That, and a constant need to outdo the other. Daily, they engaged in a delicate pantomime of intimacy and all their world was the stage.
“Did you hurt someone, honey?” [Y/N] moaned as Coriolanus kissed her, bucking her hips up. “You only act like this when you’ve hurt someone. Y-you, oh fuck, you know I don’t care.” She said.
“Cut it out.” He snapped.
“Who.”
“How many times before have I told you not to ask?” Coriolanus said, pulling his lips away from her chest and instead leaned back to bury two fingers inside her wetness to affirm his point. He had already noticed she hadn’t been wearing panties under the translucent nightie, so it was easy.
[Y/N] inhaled sharply at the abrupt stretching sensation and shut her eyes. “I wasn’t asking, Coriolanus.”
Coriolanus stretched her further, eliciting an explicit moan from [Y/N]. She clawed at the fabric of the only stitches he had left: his trousers.
Through gritted teeth, Coriolanus choked out “Festus Creed.”
“Festus?” [Y/N] said as she sat up on her elbows. They had known him since they were children. Coriolanus didn’t stop fucking her brutally with his hand. “Coryo… You didn’t.”
“He said something he shouldn’t have and he took his coffee too sweet to notice before it was too late. The only worry is if someone saw. Eyes everywhere. It was too public.” Coriolanus grunted. He felt himself getting hard from watching his wife fuck herself on his long fingers whilst he confessed to killing a childhood companion.
[Y/N] knew it was in poor taste to feel so good from hearing something so awful. She did not care because who was going to judge her in the privacy of her own home? She let out her most wanton moan yet when Coriolanus pressed in a third finger. He knew had an advantage in the conversation considering their current position. Coriolanus knew exactly what she wanted and that he was not going to get her to cum just from the penetration of his fingers. Effortlessly, he slid his thumb over her clit and rubbed it quickly. “W-why…” [Y/N] tried her best to sound coherent.
“He wanted something that wasn’t his.” Coriolanus muttered, leaning his mouth into [Y/N]’s bare neck.
This could have meant Festus had coveted her, or that he had coveted the presidency. Whatever it was, Coriolanus didn’t like his foods to touch and took care of the problem. [Y/N] let herself believe that out of the possible options, it was her that had gotten in the way of the two men’s relationship. It made her grin an unfortunate grin.
“Coriolanus, you sh-shouldn’t have d-done that,” [Y/N] said. Her thighs were practically shaking. “That was a mistake.” She tried. It was a mistake. Logically, she knew that. [Y/N]’s quivering hands unbuckled his belt. Carefully, she slid the fine black leather through the metal fixings and soft fabric loops. It stayed clutched in her hand.
“What was a mistake?” Coriolanus asked coyly. “This?” His hand slid out of her, making [Y/N] yelp at its absence.
At least [Y/N] was able to think clearer without his hand in her folds. [Y/N] clutched the belt in her hands tighter. “Fuck you.” [Y/N] said. She sat up further causing Coriolanus to lean back further. Her temper flared. She hated how much Coriolanus liked it when she got angry. Of course none of her feelings were really her own with out Coriolanus’ desire and interests. Her temper escalated until she could feel a full throbbing in her left armpit and side. [Y/N] also hated how aroused she still felt. Her friend was dead, after all. She sent a silent prayer to Festus, wherever he ended up.
[Y/N] knew this desire she had was going to be a challenge, but she wanted to punish Coriolanus carnally. Everything was too easy for him as it was.
When Coriolanus sat up against the fluffy pillows and the metal headboard, [Y/N] wasted no time climbing into his lap. She stared seriously into his blue eyes for a moment and leaned into his ear. “I’m extremely disappointed in you.” She said.
Nervousness coursed through her veins. Coriolanus was going to be very upset with her. She grasped Coriolanus’ left wrist in the same hand that held his belt. In one fluid motion, [Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ other wrist and clutched them over his head. She pressed his wrists together and linked them with the belt. Before she locked the belt on itself, she pushed his beautiful pale hands against the metallic headboard she was so familiar with chained to herself and cinched the belt closed fast enough to rash up Coriolanus’ delicate wrists.
Coriolanus looked at her in stunned shock. He tried to pull against the belt once.
Twice.
Three times.
It jerked the metal bedframe with a crack.
“What the fuck is this?” Coriolanus said through gritted teeth.
“Punishment. You… I… I said I was extremely disappointed in you. You created a significant amount of unnecessary stress because… Because what? A man I’ve known since I was twelve wanted to share your toys? Is that it?”
The crease between Coriolanus’ eyebrows deepened and his eyes. [Y/N] popped the button on Coriolanus’ pants.
“Now, I’m gonna get some pleasure out of you if it kills me. For my sake, not yours.” [Y/N] said. She shimmied Coriolanus’ pants and boxers down to his knees. Coriolanus wasn’t making this movement easy for her with his wriggling.
“[Y/N], get me out of this. Now!” Coriolanus commanded. At the noise, she grabbed his cock and circled her thumb around its head a few times. He was a leaking mess; he liked this more than he implied. Coriolanus let out a whimper, whether from pleasure or being emasculated. Either would do.
“No.” [Y/N] said softly. She released his cock and climbed properly back onto his lap and slowly sank all the way down on his painfully hard cock. Coriolanus was tall and broad so it was never a surprise to [Y/N] that he was so big. She herself moaned at the familiar stretch of taking him in all the way. [Y/N] rolled her hips to compensate as she settled. [Y/N] chose not think about the consequences for what she was doing. She thought about Coriolanus instead. She glanced down at Coriolanus. Of course he looked frustratingly gorgeous. He always did. His hair looked extremely tousled and his eyes were truculent. His jaw clenched in a grimace of some passionate emotion.
[Y/N] had never seen Coriolanus below her like this. She liked it.
Coriolanus thrusted his hips up, but [Y/N] sat still, not dignifying his need with a response. “No, this is an apology. This is for me now, not you.”
“[Y/N], please—“
Begging so soon?
[Y/N] fucked herself on his cock sharply. Repeatedly, she lifted herself high and slammed herself back down his length. She had no idea sex felt so good in this position.
“Coryo, I want an apology for whatever this is. You should be ashamed of what you’ve done. Are you?”
Silence. He looked away from her.
“I asked you a question.” [Y/N] whispered when she leaned in to bite Coriolanus’ earlobe.
“No.” He said. [Y/N] leaned back and struck him with her open palm. She smiled to herself as she did so, thinking of the night of their engagement party. How striking his pale face always looked with the contrast of a stiff red mark on it.
“[Y/N]!” Coriolanus shouted at the stinging sensation, pulling at his restraints. Coriolanus hated not feeling in control. He wanted to hold [Y/N], to squeeze her, to devour her alive.
[Y/N] leaned to clutch his bound forearms, bouncing up and down sickeningly fast. “You’re not ashamed? Guilty? You think this is deserved, this cruelty?” He didn’t have to answer for [Y/N] to know he didn’t feel ashamed. Coriolanus couldn’t feel shame quite like that, only self pity. He let out another moan at her words. [Y/N] clawed her nails down his biceps on a journey to his abdomen. “Coryo, apologize to me.” She purred.
“I…” Coriolanus started to apologize, but [Y/N] began sucking brutal hickeys on his neck first, then collarbones. He could barely string a sentence together at the sensation. By the time he had four blossoming bruises on the marble column of his throat, he was writhing beneath [Y/N]. He was getting frustrated. Every time he tried to buck his hips naturally (or desperately) into hers, she refused to move or acknowledge until he stopped.
“Fine! I’m sorry!” He spat, barely conscious of his words.
“For what?”
“F-Festus.” He said quietly.
“What was that, honey?” She teased, twisting one of his nipples.
“Please don’t make me talk about another man when I’m fucking you…” Coriolanus whimpered. “Undo the belt, Darling, we can—“
“Too late. What are you sorry for?” She said, rolling her hips into his. “Tell me you’re sorry or there’s no chance I let you finish.”
“Festus!”
“Louder!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry about Festus. It was a mistake. PLEASE! Let me fucking cum!”
He wasn’t sorry at all. While he came into his wife, all Coriolanus could think about was how awfully good it felt to kill someone if it meant his wife would be on him like this.
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Kinkmas (3)- Ugly Sweater
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Natasha X Reader 18+
Summary: Whilst coming out of the bathroom, Natasha immediately notices your new Christmas Sweater and can't hold back on her playful teasing and mentions how ugly it is. In fact, she thinks it's so ugly, you should just take it off.
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Teasing, Ugly Sweaters, Thigh Riding, Smut, Dom Natasha/Sub Reader, Praise, Orgasm Denial/Delay, Dirty Talk, Begging, Oral Sex, Fingering, Aftercare, Cuddles
Kinkmas Masterlist
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Opening the bathroom door, a snicker left her lips as Natasha caught sight of the Christmas jumper you were wearing, her hand moving to cover her mouth as you shot your girlfriend a pointed look while rummaging for your phone charger, watching her form on the bed as her lips tugged up into an amused smile.
"Detka," she says, dragging her words out as you approached her on the bed after successfully finding your charger, her arms naturally opening as you melt against her body, her lips pressing against your temple, arms then snaking around you. "I didn't know we were doing ugly sweaters this year," she mumbles against your hair in a teasing tone, your head tilting to gaze into her humoured green, that mischievous smirk playing on her lips as you adjusted yourself on the bed, moving to straddle her lap.
"It's not ugly," you say in mild offence, looking back down at the jumper you had bought for Christmas this year, amazed at how soft and comfortable it was compared to ones you've had in the past. "It's unique," your tone full of confidence as your girlfriend fails to hide the small laugh that escapes her, her eyes taking the ridiculous piece of clothing properly.
The jumper had questionable looking reindeers adorning it, the white stripes indicating different sections as a pattern of Santa hats were under it, followed by a set of christmas trees and then a row of presents, her brow raising in questioning as you followed her line of sight to the section of snowmen, the blue coloured section not matching with the rest of the red and green theme, looking very odd.
"I'm not sure unique is the word I'd use to describe it, Detka," she murmurs, hands cupping your cheek and guiding your face down for an innocent kiss, the action sparking an idea in the redhead's mind, her smile slowly morphing into that iconic mischievous smirk again.
"Is it really that bad?" you ask, a hint of genuine disappointment in your voice as you part of you actually quite liked the sweater, Natasha's fingers resting under your chin and lifting your head up to meet her gaze, your brows furrowing slightly at the look in her eyes, knowing she was planning something.
"Oh Detka," she coos, her free hand gliding down your waist to the back of your thighs before back up, sliding under the fabric to feel your bare skin, her cold hands a contrast to your warm skin making your body tense momentarily. "It is, in fact, I think it's that bad you should just... take it off," her hand emphasises her words by pulling up on your sweater, her eyes searching yours and waiting for permission to do so, eyes sparkling with desire and mischief as you can't help but chuckle at her words, the doubts about the jumper swiftly leaving your mind due to her lips being mere inches away from yours.
"Yeah?" you whisper back, lips tugging up into an amused smile as her smile only widens when you move your hands to replace hers at your jumper, playing with the hem of it and slowly, teasingly pulling it off. "I think I should too," you murmur just before removing the jumper, Natasha's hands eagerly travelling across the exposed skin you just revealed, fingers dancing across your lower abdomen before reaching your lower back and up, swiftly unclasping your bra and pulling it off while your lips meet hers passionately, both of you smiling into it to start with.
A soft moan escapes you when the kiss becomes more intense, Natasha's tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss, arousal pooling between your thighs while your mind fogs with lust, the feeling of her hands burning into your skin as you think you're going to go mad with desire. Her nails faintly scratch your skin, earning a groan in response as you arch your back slightly, pushing your body further into hers prompting her to wrap her arms around you, guiding you into another position.
She positions you on one of her thighs, smirking into the kiss when she hears the affected sigh leave you as she pulls you along it, making you ride her thigh until you start to do it on your own.
"That's it Detka," she praises, making you moan once again, the noise being swallowed by her relentless mouth, lips constantly claiming yours in a hungry and desperate kiss, hands returning to roam your body and tease you. You're finding it hard to think with her actions, fingers grazing the underside of your breasts, thumbs teasingly ghosting over your sensitive nipples while her mouth is hot, soft and dominant at the same time, the two of you only parting for breath, panting heavily against each others mouths as you still can't resist trying to kiss her again, craving her addictive lips.
"Nat," you groan when she finally cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, just the way you love it, her fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," you sigh out, lolling your head back as she starts to kiss down your jaw and along your neck, nibbling softly and smirking against yours skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against her harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only she could help you with, "Please."
"You're so impatient Detka," she teases, sucking on part of your skin to leave a mark, her hands moving away from your chest to your ass, guiding you against her thigh once again, a groan leaving you at her slower pace. "You'll get what you want soon," she murmurs, tilting her head back up to meet your lips, claiming them briefly and messily before lowering her head to kiss along your collar bones, sucking another mark as she knew you loved it.
You groaned in a little frustration at her words, wanting to feel the pleasure of your release now but being denied by her, Natasha merely chuckling against your skin at your impatience.
"Nat," you whined, her kisses descending even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.
"Soon," she promises, yours fingers threading through her hair when she swirls her tongue around one of your nipples, mouth then sucking on your chest earning a string of moans from you, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh as she tenses it for you, the surface harder for you to grind along.
"Fuck," you sigh out when she switches to the other breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, her hands moving your hips harder and faster against her, your orgasm building swiftly at her actions.
"Don't even think about coming yet Detka," she rasps out, pulling away from your chest, a string of saliva connecting the two before her thumb brushes it away while her eyes are trained on yours, a small, affected sigh leaving your lips at the sight.
"Please, Nat, I'm so close," you plead, knowing how turned on she gets by your begging, your fingers gently tugging on her hair that you've ruffled slightly to make her return to your face, wanting to feel her lips pressed against yours.
"Not yet Detka," she murmurs back before kissing you firmly, hands moving to your lower back to keep you secure before flipping the two of you over, a groan of annoyance leaving you as she denies you, her lips silencing you. "I want to feel you coming all over my tongue," she purrs at the shell of your ear, biting softly on your earlobe as you whimper at her words, hands reaching out to her waist, sliding under her simple black jumper, desperate to feel her bare skin.
"Shit, Nat I want you, I need you. Please," you moan out into her mouth as she kisses you with a newfound hunger, her fingers replacing yours at her jumper, pulling the item off swiftly before unclasping her own bra and tossing it somewhere in the room, not bothered where at the moment.
"You'll only ever need me, isn't that right Detka?" she murmurs with a smug smirk against your skin as your nails scratch down her back softly, the redhead aware of the effect she had on you as her fingers slide your joggers down, lips descending down your body once again.
"Yes," your tone a whisper as your back arches against her, the feeling of her lips kissing down your body making your body delirious with arousal and desire, the redhead groaning at your voice, loving the way you say you're hers. "You're all I need- Fuck, please do that again," your words are interrupted when she drags one of her fingers against your soaking core through your panties, the fabric drenched with your arousal, body begging for her touch.
"So desperate," she mumbles, tone laced with dominance as she looks up from her place between your legs, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you. "So wet," she adds, doing as you asked and sliding her finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against the mattress. "If you want it that bad Detka, beg for it."
"Please," you whimper, pleading her with your eyes, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties and caressing the skin there in an affectionate manner, waiting for you to continue, "Nat, I've been good, please touch me, please make me come." Her breath fans over your sensitive core as her teeth gently bite down on the fabric of your panties, dragging the item down your legs and admiring your aroused and desperate form watching her, mouth parting in a small, affected sigh. "Please Nat, I need your fingers, your mouth, Fuck, anything at this point," your words are cut off by a pathetic whimper, the redhead finally lowering her mouth to your dripping core, her eyes trained on you as she wants to watch you come undone.
"Fuck Detka," she groans, eyes darkening with desire as her tongue swipes through your folds, tasting your arousal and making your hips buck up against her mouth, her hands holding your body down. "You taste so good," her accent delicately wraps around her words in a way that makes your head spin, the added raspiness going straight to your lower abdomen, her mouth exploring your sensitive sex as sinful sounds spill from your lips.
"Shit, I love it when you do that," you moan out, her lips wrapping around your clit and sucking gently, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair softly, fingers surrounded by the red silky locks. "Nat," your voice a low sigh, the noise soft and sensual as her face nuzzled closer to where you needed her, her lower face coated in your arousal as you were just so addicting, tongue swirling over your clit before sliding lower, teasing your entrance.
"Such a pretty mess for me," she murmurs against you, her mouth returning to your clit and sucking a little harsher than before, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure flooded through you, one of her hands sliding around your thigh to pull you closer. "All mine to ruin," she rasps out, a guttural noise leaving you at her words and the feeling of one of her fingers effortlessly sliding into you, walls desperately clenching around her digit.
"Nat," you pant out, head lolling back against the soft mattress, fingers tightening their grip on her hair, hips trying their best to roll against her mouth in search of friction.
Your desperate tone and actions encourage her to push you over the edge, her digit curling inside you at your sweet spot, pleasure building in your core as you clench around her, the redhead's mouth then kissing your clit again to drive you mad, tongue swiping over to make your hips cant up.
"Fuck, don't stop," you groan out, fingers holding her head still as she slides in another finger, moaning into your core, the vibrations pleasing you as your mind clouds with arousal, vision almost blurring with euphoria. "Please can I come?" you ask, voice laced with submission as your eyes gaze down at the sinful sight of her between your thighs, her darkened green entranced by your state.
"Come for me," she husks out, taking your clit back into her mouth and sucking while her fingers continue to curl inside you, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching further off the bed as your legs trembled, hips rocking against her face at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on the bed at the exhaustion of coming so hard.
Natasha listened to every soft pant that left you, every hitch of breath as she didn't stop her actions, moving her tongue to replace her fingers inside you, lapping up your come and arousal that she could taste.
She only stopped when your hand softly tugged on her hair, silently asking her to stop, which she did immediately, gradually sliding her body away from between your legs. She straddled your waist, her eyes trained on yours as they fluttered open, meeting the softening green and watching in awe as she slid her fingers into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she groans at the taste of you on her fingers, your lips parting for a small, affected gasp.
"Come here," you mumbled tiredly, hands reaching out for the curve of her hips as you pull her body down against yours, claiming her lips softly as she lets you kiss her how you want. Her body relaxes against yours, her fingers brushing back a few strands of your hair while your hands cup her cheek, keeping her close as you inevitably smile against her mouth, the redhead eagerly reciprocating the action.
Her lips peck yours once more before pressing a loving kiss to your temple, her body rolling onto her side as she pulls you closer to her, wanting to take care of you.
"We need to clean up Detka," she whispers, knowing how tired you were but more focused on staying hygienic and safe. You grumble in response, face pressed against her chest, arms defiantly wrapped around her middle as you just wanted to savour the calm moment, her fingers scratching your scalp soothingly. "Come on, it will be quick," she murmurs, managing to get you out of the bed and into the bathroom to clean up, her hands gentle as she helped take care of you, smiling softly at the way you craved to feel any part of her body.
Eventually, after many loving caresses, the two of you leave the bathroom clean and completely naked, a request on your behalf, before sliding under the covers, bodies naturally drifting towards each other.
Your face nestled at the crook of her neck, the warm and soft skin lulling you into a peaceful state as you melted in her embrace, exhaustion slowly creeping up on you.
"Nat," you mumble, tiredness evident in your voice as you move your hand to glide up and down her toned back, smiling a little at her neck when you feel her relax even more into the impossibly soft mattress.
She hums softly in response, a hint of curiosity audible in the noise as she lets her lips press delicately against your hair, waiting for you to continue.
"Was the jumper actually that ugly?" your voice a mere whisper, eyes closed as you savour the comfort and security of her neck, her body shaking a little under you as she laughs angelically at your words.
"Oh Detka," she coos, smiling against your locks as she can't help the warmth bubbling in her chest. "It was, I'm sorry," she honestly tells you, a grumble leaving you as you snuggle further into your body.
"I'll get a new one," you mumble, an idea popping into your tired mind, "I'll get a Black Widow themed one and there's nothing you can do to stop me." At your words, Natasha can't help but chuckle lovingly again, her head shaking at your antics.
"Ok Detka, you do that," she murmurs tenderly, letting you think you've gotten your way as she could feel your little smile against her neck, the redhead not having the heart to deny you.
"Goodnight Moya Lyubov," she whispers after a moment, the sounds of your gentle snores taking over the room as Natasha slowly drifts off to sleep, content with having you wrapped up in her arms.
1K notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 1 month
Text
Commander
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} As the leader of the gold cloaks, Daemon holds all the power when it comes to dealing out punishments for thieves and criminals. But what if he finds one he is particularly fond of? Well he has a special way of handling them...
3.9k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, oral {m!receiving}, fingering, degradation, semi public sex, soft dom!daemon, sub!reader, overstimulation, little bit of spanking & threats of violence...
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{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}
@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer
@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke @deamonloverrrr
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It was almost like you were invisible. No one noticed you, and even when you spoke up and called attention to yourself, no one paid you any mind. Your small form blended in so well amongst the shadows that you were never a threat to anyone. Even if they caught a glimpse of you, most people would write you off as harmless, and continue on their way without a second thought.
This worked to your advantage, a gift that served you well. When your hand slipped into a pocket or purse and came back with something shiny, no one could point fingers and say it was you. Because how could it be when they didn't even see you?
It wasn't a life you were proud of, but it was all you had. And you were good at it, or else you'd have starved years ago.
Tonight was no different than any other night, as you slipped from shadow to shadow, weaving through the streets like a ghost. The darkness was your ally, the only true friend you had.
You were on the lookout, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. A woman walked by with a small satchel tied to her waist. Your eyes lit up and you started to trail after her, staying a safe distance back to remain unnoticed.
You followed the woman, making sure to keep her in your sight, but keeping your presence unknown. She stopped, talking with a group of people. Now was your chance, when she was distracted and not paying attention.
The moment you reached out and touched the satchel, you realized you had made a mistake. The woman turned and grabbed your wrist, "Oi!" she yelled, "Thief!"
Panic rose within you. This was not the first time someone had noticed your presence and raised the alarm, but each time it sent a chill of fear down your spine. You struggled against the woman, kicking her hard in the shin and yanking your wrist free from her grasp.
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you ran, knowing full well the woman had alerted others and would be sending guards after you.
It was hard to see, the moonlight not bright enough to light your path. There was a sound of a commotion and then you saw the shadow of a man.
He stepped out in front of you, and you couldn't stop fast enough. You ran right into him and he took a hold of your shoulders, pushing you back to look at you.
Your eyes widened as you took in his uniform, he was a gold cloak. His face was twisted in anger and his hands gripped your arms tighter, "where are you running off to, little thief?" he sneered.
"I was just passing by, you must be mistaken' me for someone else." you said quickly, but the man ignored you.
He started walking, practically dragging you with him. "Hey! Let me go! Where are you taking me? Stop!" you yelled, but your protests went unanswered. He had you.
A small crowd had formed, watching as the gold cloak hauled you off, his strong grip not allowing you to break free.
"What did I do?" you yelled, tears springing to your eyes.
"You know what you did." he responded gruffly. You were scared, your eyes watering with tears, you had always gotten away, you had always been so careful. Until tonight. Now your luck has run out. You would probably lose a hand, or be thrown in a cell and left to rot.
You were taken to a building where the guard pushed you inside and told you to wait. It was an old tavern, the chairs had been stacked on the tables and there was nobody around. You looked around frantically for an escape route, but the windows were all boarded up and the doors locked.
Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might give out. You paced the floor nervously, wringing your hands.
A few moments later, you heard the sound of the front door unlocking, and another man walked in. You immediately realized who he was, with his blonde hair and sharp jawline, and the golden cloak that hung over his shoulders. It was Prince Daemon, the lord commander.
Your eyes went wide and you dropped to your knees, bowing your head low, "my lord, forgive me, I- I didn't mean to-"
He let out a low chuckle, "What a polite little thief."
His voice was like honey, smooth and sweet. You stayed silent, and the prince walked toward you slowly, his boots clicking against the stone floor. You had never seen him up close before, but his presence filled the room. You could feel the strength and power radiating from him.
"Rise," he commanded. You did as you were told, scrambling to your feet.
Daemon took a step closer to you, looking you up and down, his eyes raking over your small frame. He grabbed a lock of your hair, twirling it around his fingers examining you like a piece of meat.
"Tell me your name."
"Y/N." you answered quickly, your voice quivering.
He hummed thoughtfully, "That's a pretty name. Do you know the punishment for thievery in King's Landing?"
"I-" you stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence, "I-I didn't-"
"Oh, I think you did."
"But-"
"Are you trying to say it wasn't you?"
You bit your lip, unsure how to answer. Lying to him was a far worse offense than petty thievery, but he seemed to already know the truth.
"Speak." Daemon snapped, his eyes flashing.
"It was me." you admitted, your cheeks flushing pink.
"Hmm, very good. See, it's not so hard to tell the truth." he said with a smug smile.
You looked up at him, and his violet eyes were locked on yours. There was something predatory in the way he was looking at you. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you.
He was much taller than you, easily a foot taller. He took your hand in his own, holding it up, examining it, turning it over and running his thumb across your palm.
"Such a tiny thing," he said quietly, almost to himself, "is that how you sneak around the city?"
You nodded.
"And do you know what I do to little thieves like you?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
You shook your head, and a small smile played on his lips. Daemon brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist gently. Your heart was racing, and you felt a wave of heat rush through your body.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, "You have two options," he whispered, his breath warm, and sweet against your cheek, "you can lose this hand, or," he nipped at your earlobe, "I could fuck the thieving right out of you."
He smiled at your reaction, the look of panic in your eyes, your cheeks felt hot and your pulse quickened under his touch. You inhaled sharply, your breath growing shallow as he took a step forward, backing you up until you were pressed against the bar.
"Choose," he said, his voice low and commanding.
Your gaze went from his eyes to his lips and back up to his eyes again. You certainly didn't want to lose your hand, and he wasn't exactly horrible to look at.
"I- I'd rather not lose my hand."
Daemon smirked, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hand found your throat, squeezing slightly, "Such a smart little thief." he muttered, before crashing his lips into yours.
His hands moved down your sides, and rested on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You gasped against his mouth and his tongue slipped in, tasting you. He let go of you and pulled the cloak from his shoulders, tossing it aside.
The gauntlets and armor next to follow, he held up his hand and you rushed to unlace and remove them, yanking the clasps apart until they were loosened enough for him to pull free. He did so hastily, knocking them to the ground with the rest.
"Good girl," he hummed, his hands going to your shirt, "Let's see what you're hiding beneath those rags, hmm?"
Before you had a chance to argue, he had lifted your shirt up and over your head, his fingers deftly tugging and pulling on your skirts and undergarments till you were left standing before him in nothing but your socks.
He chuckled, his eyes taking in every inch of your exposed skin. His large hand wrapped around the back of your neck, and he brought his mouth crashing to yours once more.
Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer to you. You felt his other hand trail down your stomach, and he grabbed the bottom of your hip in a firm grip. His body pressed against yours, pushing you hard against the bar until the wooden edge pressed uncomfortably against your skin.
"Ah," you whined, trying to push him back a little. But he was stronger than you, keeping you firmly in place. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you up onto the counter. He stepped between your legs, spreading them wide.
"Please," you breathed, "what if someone comes in?"
He smirked, his fingers finding your nipples, rolling them gently between his fingertips, "They won't." he assured you, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your head fell back, giving him better access. You couldn't believe what was happening, here you were, sitting naked on the bar of an abandoned tavern, the Prince's lips sucking and nibbling at your neck while his hands caressed and squeezed your breasts.
You gasped, his teeth grazing over your sensitive flesh. He chuckled against your skin, his hands moving down, sliding down your sides, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your ass. His mouth went to your breasts, sucking on a nipple before biting down hard, drawing a whimper from you. The pressure he applied was painful and you tried to squirm away, but he held you in place.
When he released the hardened bud, he switched to the other one. Sucking and biting on it, teasing you to the point where you were kicking your legs, struggling not to make a sound. He released you with a wet pop, and licked his lips, his violet eyes locking onto yours.
He leaned down, his face close to yours, and kissed you again, his tongue sweeping through your mouth, claiming it as his.
Daemon leaned back and pulled his shirt off, his toned chest and stomach coming into view. You couldn't help but stare, biting your lip as you drank him in. He smirked, noticing the effect he had on you. His hands found your thighs and he yanked you closer, until your ass was hanging off the edge. He looked down at you, admiring the way your chest heaved and your cheeks flushed, your eyes wide with lust and fear.
"Such a pretty little thing," he purred as his hand slid between your thighs.
You sucked in a sharp breath as he eased a finger into your wet cunt, slowly working it deeper. You moaned as he began pumping it in and out firmly, making sure his movements were deliberate and forceful. He added a second finger, and you gasped at the stretch. It was all becoming too much, and you gasped and tried to jerk away, trying to escape his touch.
"Shh," he murmured, his lips ghosting against yours, "you're okay."
Your legs were shaking and your breath hitched, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You gripped the edge of the bar tightly, trying to keep yourself from falling off. You felt a strange new feeling, a tightening in your lower belly, and a heat that began spreading through your veins.
Daemon watched the way your body reacted to his touch, the way your eyelids fluttered, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He loved the way your little pussy clenched around his finger, the way you twitched and trembled as his hand worked.
"There we go," he cooed, "relax."
His words were soft, but his movements were rough. His finger pumped hard and deep, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you, making your body shake and spasm. You whimpered and moaned, writhing on the bar, arching your back and bucking your hips. Your whole body was tingling, the warmth and tightness spreading throughout you. You didn't know what was happening, what he was doing to you, but you were helpless to stop it.
"That's it," he purred, his fingers curling inside of you, "give in."
His words sent a rush of arousal through your body, and you whimpered and cried out. Your hips thrust upwards, grinding against his hand. Your hands flew to his shoulders, clinging onto him for dear life.
The heat spread through you like wildfire, your muscles clenched and tightened, your vision blurring as everything erupted at once. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, suppressing your screams of pleasure. A gush of wetness dripped from between your legs, soaking his fingers and hand.
Daemon chuckled softly, continuing to fuck you with his fingers, drawing out the pleasure. Your entire body was shaking and quivering, and you felt lightheaded. He slowly removed his fingers, letting out a soft groan as he admired the mess you'd made.
You felt deeply ashamed and embarrassed, covering your face with your hands. He smiled, licking the sticky wetness from his fingers.
"Now then," he said, pulling your hands away from your face, "are you ready for the rest? Or shall I just leave you here like this? a shivering little puddle..."
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bit your lip, hesitating. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response.
"I... I want it." you breathed, "Please."
He grinned, his eyes roaming over your body. His cock was straining against the front of his pants, and you couldn't help but notice how big he was. You gulped nervously, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea.
"Kneel for me," he ordered, his voice husky and strained.
He pulled away from you, the warmth of his body fading from yours, leaving you shivering and panting. He watched as you climbed off the bar and moved to the floor, he turned and reached for his cloak, tossing it on the ground in front of you.
"For your knees," he said with a wink.
You blushed, kneeling down on the soft fabric, looking up at him with wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips.
He stood in front of you, his hand going to the front of his pants. The laces were already undone, and his cock sprang free. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his length, hard and thick. It was intimidating, but at the same time, it stirred a dark hunger within you.
"Open your mouth," he instructed, and you did as you were told, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out.
He hummed his approval, and moved closer, his cock bumping against your cheek. He guided the tip to your lips, running it across them, smiling when you flicked your tongue out and licked the tip.
"Good girl," he murmured.
He sighed, his hand tangling in your hair, guiding you to take more of him. Your mouth stretched around his cock, the head hitting the back of your throat. You gagged and choked, the taste of him filling your senses.
"Mmm, there we go." he moaned.
He began thrusting, his hips rocking back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. You gripped his thighs, trying to hold him still, but he was too strong, his movements too rough. You gagged and spluttered, struggling to breathe, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. He groaned, his grip on your hair tightening, holding you in place as he fucked your mouth.
His movements became more frantic, and he threw his head back, his breathing ragged, losing himself in his own pleasure, his thrusts becoming faster, harder. He looked like a god, towering over you, his chest heaving, his muscles flexing, his teeth bared. He let out a low groan, spilling his seed in your mouth. You swallowed his release, licking the last of it from his tip.
He released you, his cock slipping from your lips. You fell back onto your hands and knees, panting, gasping for air with a desperate ache between your legs.
He chuckled, and knelt down, grabbing your chin and pulling you to your feet. You looked up at him, your gaze locking on his violet eyes. "You can go if you wish, little thief," he purred, his eyes fixed on yours, "I won't stop you."
You were silent for a moment, your mind racing, unsure of what to do.
"But," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, his eyes darkening, "if you stay, I promise you, you won't regret it."
You looked at him, your chest heaving. The heat from his body was intoxicating, his scent filling your nostrils, his taste still lingering on your tongue. You stared up at him, hesitating for a moment. Your mind was telling you to run, but your body was screaming for you to stay. The heat between your thighs was aching and throbbing, and the thought of him fucking you made your stomach flip.
Daemon noticed your apprehension and laughed, "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, leaning down and hoisting you over his shoulder. He carried you through the tavern, his hand smacking your ass as he walked, you let out a giggle, kicking your legs, enjoying the feel of his large hands groping and squeezing you.
He laid you down on a nearby table, standing over you and gazing at your naked form. You lay there, trembling, looking up at him with wide eyes. In that moment, you knew what you wanted. You wanted him, no matter the consequences. You reached up and gripped his shoulders, pulling him down on top of you, your lips crashing against his.
He growled against your mouth, his hands spreading your thighs. You gasped, your breath hitching as you felt the tip of his cock press against your entrance.
He paused, looking down at you, "Tell me you want it."
"I-I want it," you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper.
He smirked, satisfied with your answer, and pressed his lips against yours again. His nails dug into your hips, pulling you closer as his cock eased inside of you. You gasped and groaned, gripping his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin.
He pushed his hips forward, sheathing his entire length inside of you. You gasped, and he paused, giving you time to adjust to his size. It was almost too much for you, the way he was pressing his hips flush against yours, filling you up completely.
He groaned and started to move, his thrusts slow and deep, his lips kissing along your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers gripping your hair and yanking, forcing your head back.
You whimpered and gasped, your nails raking down his back. He grunted, picking up the pace, slamming his hips into yours harder and faster, each stroke bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
He was a sight to behold, all muscle and strength, sweat glistening on his toned body. Your moans filled the room, your walls squeezing him tight, milking his cock as he fucked you.
"Careful little thief, you don't want me to spill my seed just yet, do you?" he taunted.
"No..." you whined, "please, don't."
He chuckled, his thrusts slowing. He was teasing you, drawing it out. Your hands moved to his hips, pulling him closer, encouraging him to fuck you harder.
He smiled at your attempts to get him deeper inside of you, "What a good little whore," he praised.
You moaned, and he leaned down, capturing your lips with his. His kiss was hungry and desperate, his tongue slipping past your parted lips, swirling against yours. You writhed beneath him, your fingers digging into his flesh, and his hips picked up speed, pounding into you relentlessly. His hands gripped the sides of the table, his knuckles turning white.
You threw your head back, gasping and moaning. Your back arched, pushing your breasts into his chest, your nipples rubbing against his skin. The feel of him moving inside of you, stretching you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, it was all too much. Your walls clenched and spasmed, and you came with a loud cry.
Daemon groaned, his thrusts growing erratic, his breathing heavy. He was close, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it. His lips found yours, and he kissed you hard, swallowing your moans as his hands gripped your hips tightly.
He grunted and thrust one last time, then he pulled out and spilled his seed on your stomach. You whined, missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. He smirked, leaning down and kissing your neck, "Do you consider that a suitable punishment?" he whispered.
You nodded, too dazed to speak. He smiled and stood, tucking his cock back into his pants. You sat up, watching as he gathered his belongings, slipping his shirt back on. You grabbed your own clothes and quickly dressed, the silence between the two of you growing heavy. You glanced at him as he pulled his boots on, then watched him struggle to properly attach his armor.
"Let me help," you offered.
He raised a brow and shrugged, letting you finish strapping on the rest. He looked down at you and grinned, "don't let me catch you again, little thief, or I'll be forced to do much worse."
"Perhaps I want to be caught."
He chuckled, and leaned down, kissing your lips one last time. He straightened and pulled his hood up, giving you a wink before he slipped out the door.
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Months had passed since your encounter with the prince, and your life went on as normal. Back to stealing and thieving, and doing your best to stay out of trouble.
You had just finished up a productive day of pickpocketing and swiping, and decided to enjoy the evening in a small tavern, hoping to make a quick buck in a game of cards.
You were on your way there when you saw him, standing by the door. He was unmistakable, his white hair, his violet eyes, and the dark armor that covered his body.
Your first instinct was to run, even though you weren't committing any crime at the moment. But another part of you was curious, excited, even. So you gave into your desires, sneaking around the corner and approaching him from behind.
You crept closer, keeping an eye on his movements. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm and pressed yourself against his back, your hand reaching around and grabbing the pommel of his sword.
He flinched, his hand grabbing your wrist forcefully, quickly turning to face you, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Well hello, little thief," he said, his expression changing from angry to amused.
"Lord Commander," you cooed, batting your lashes innocently, "is something the matter?"
His eyes narrowed and he looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching. When he was satisfied no one was paying attention, he yanked you around the corner, out of sight.
You felt his hands on your waist, hoisting you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You screamed and giggled in delight as he carried you off, ready to find another punishment for your insolence.
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417 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 2 months
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hi kenny! i hope you’re doing well. do you think you could write something about geto and gojo taking turns eating out the reader or taking turns spanking her? you write fictional men so well 😵‍💫😵‍💫
absolutely angel!! thank you for the request <3
satoru gojo x fem!reader x suguru geto
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (f receiving), threesome, overstimulation
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"Sugu!" you shriek as your boyfriend rips yet another orgasm from you with his tongue.
One of your boyfriends more exactly. The other one was sat behind you, jaw pressed to your temple as he watched the deliverance of pleasure occurring between your legs.
"Looks like she squirted that time. Your chin is fucking soaked," Satoru teases and pecks you on the cheek.
"Hard to tell. She's just so wet," Suguru mumbles before getting back to work.
His tongue laps at you repeatedly, taking every drop of your nectar. Your heels dig into his back, and your warm thighs clamp around his head. You almost scream from the overstimulation, but instead all that happens is your mouth opens wide and your eyes roll back into your skull.
Your hands fly down to his silky mop of black hair, pushing at him and whimpering. "Sugu, too much. C'mon, please."
But Satoru swoops in and grabs your wrists. His long, slender fingers encompass them completely to pull them away from the man hard at work. He lifts them up and kisses each palm before speaking to you again.
"Nuh uh, baby. You take what Suguru gives you, yeah?" he croons mockingly.
You arch your back and whine with increased petulance.
He responds in kind, chuckling and nuzzling the skin below your ear.
"Y'know, Suguru. You could give her a little break. It is supposed to be my turn after all," he says.
"But she's so close again already," Suguru replies, brown eyes flicking up to look at the other man, "You got to make her cum back to back. I think it's only fair I get the same chance."
"That is true," Satoru muses, acting as if he was actually considering the logical validity of the point.
You're so gone that you don't even fully register the back and forth. You'd lost track of how many times you'd cum. Each release just seemed to flow right into another onslaught of bliss. Even when they switched places, they might as well have teleported from how seamless it was.
Suguru buries his face back in your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue delves between your velvety walls. He maneuvers with skill, showing off how he can make you mewl and writhe for him.
It had all started as a silly little argument you weren't even present for the beginning of. Somehow your boyfriends had come to a disagreement over who you preferred when it came to eating you out. Next thing you knew they were all over you, yapping for an answer, and then guiding you to the bed and pulling your clothes away.
You squeal as Suguru's mouth moves upwards and sucks on your clit. His fingers dig into the squishy flesh of your thighs while yours open and close within the constraints of Satoru's grasp.
It doesn't take much longer, only a few more well-placed licks and skillfully-timed suckles, and you're gushing all over Suguru's face for the second time in the span of five minutes.
"That's our girl," Satoru purrs in your ear, nipping at the lobe. His azure eyes gleam at the sight of you squirming and whimpering, trembling so hard it's like you're vibrating.
Once you've come down a bit, Suguru does actually free your cunt from his mouth. He crawls back and smirks at Satoru.
"Your turn, pretty boy."
The white-haired man grins and slides out from behind you. Your hazy eyes catch a glimpse of his obvious bulge as he swaps stations with Suguru.
"Let me remind you how you really like it, princess," he says before lowering himself into position.
You gasp. He dives into your pussy with full effort before Suguru even has the chance to settle. You nearly bend in half, all your muscles tensing up at the prolonged pleasure. When you relax again, your other boyfriend is there to cradle you. His arms wrap around your body, and he hushes you with gentle murmurs. You can feel his hardened length pressing against the small of your back just like Satoru's had.
"He's always so eager. Never takes into account how sensitive you are, does he babydoll?" he coos.
"Mm-mm," you whimper and shake your head.
If Satoru does hear the words, he doesn't show it. He continues eating you out with all the focus he has, his entire being trained on unraveling you with his mouth. Despite this intensity, he was needier than Suguru. Both of them would give their all to the task, but Satoru always had an urgency about him. He ate like a starved man, tasted every part of you like it would be the last time.
He was also noisier than his counterpart. Suguru was quiet while attached to your center. You may hear a few sharp exhales here and there, but that was it. Satoru, on the other hand, would whimper and whine. He'd rut his hips into the mattress as he was doing now, unable to hide how much joy the dull friction brought him.
He's moving extra fast now. He does know how sensitive you are no matter what Suguru says. He knows it, and he's going to take advantage of it.
His tongue swirls around your sensitive little nub, doing figure eights and spelling out his name before licking a stripe over the wet expanse. Your toes curl, and your eyes screw shut. Your hips buck against his face. He'd just gotten there, and you were getting close again.
"That's it, baby. I know what you like. Nobody can do it like me," he taunts and glances up at Suguru teasingly.
The other man responds with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
"Are you gonna cum again, sweetheart? You think you have another one in you?" Suguru whispers in your ear.
"Y-yeah," you sob out.
Your entire body burned with the need to release again. Your legs try to squirm but Satoru has no issue keeping them in place. He also wanted you to cum, and nothing was going to get in the way of what he wanted right now.
You let go with a strangled cry. Euphoria rushed through you in a whirlwind. It was too much, but it was so so fucking good. As much as you'd beg and whine for them to stop, you couldn't get enough either.
Your body spasms as you ride out the high. You can feel Satoru grinning against your folds as he works you through it. By the time you're coming down, you crook your knee and kick at his shoulder lightly.
"Toruuuu," you whine.
He lets out a breathy laugh but obliges you. He pulls away and crawls up your body.
"Such a baby," he mocks and leans in to kiss your lips softly.
When he pulls back, he ducks his head around yours and locks his lips with Suguru. They taste you on each other's tongues. The man behind you groans against the other's lips, reciprocating the affection.
"I think it's obvious that I won," Satoru murmurs between kisses.
"Oh, is it?" Suguru smirks.
"Mhm," Satoru responds, cocky as ever, "But I think we both know she likes it best when both of us work together."
Suguru chuckles and turns your head to kiss you, making the connection go three ways.
"That true, sweet girl?" he asks.
You nod hazily, already knowing where this was headed.
"I think she's got one more in her. Just enough for the big finish," Satoru grins.
"I think you're right," Suguru responds.
And with that, the warmth of his chest is gone from your back. You're lowered onto the mattress as both men situate themselves at your core, your thighs spread wide enough to accommodate them both. They share one more kiss between each other before moving their mouths in closer and giving that attention to you.
379 notes · View notes
surielstea · 5 months
Text
Friends who Flirt
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader and Az have been flirting for years, what happens when they finally do something more?
Warnings: 18+ | smut | minors dni | multi-orgasm | dom Az | shadow play | oral (f receiving) | fingering | p in v | biting | clit sucking | teasing | praise kink | cream pie | slight slut shaming | outdated beliefs | slight angst (not from Az)
8.3k words
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I pad into the kitchen and am immediately met with a humming Azriel. Shadows swish around him as he goes about his daily tasks. His humming stops and I freeze, feeling like I've been caught for gazing for a moment too long to be considered friendly. "I can feel you staring, love." He croons, not even looking up from what he was doing. "How'd you know it was me?" I frown, crossing my arms.
"Your footsteps," He says, pushing a drawer shut with his hip as he turns to look at me, a slice of leftover cake from my birthday in his hands. "Creep." I joke, opening the drawer he just shut and fishing out a fork. "New nightgown?" He looks at me with creased brows. "Mhm, you like it?" I say doing a small twirl.
His eyes drag down the airy chiffon fabric, the baby blue color complimenting my complexion nicely, and the way the lace trim cups over my breasts don't go past his notice. He nods, eyes going back up to mine as I dig a fork into the cake he just sliced. He lets me— in fact, he lowers the plate so I can have a better angle.
"The shopkeeper gave it to me for free after I bought half her boutique for solstice presents," I explain. "It was pretty on the rack so why not." I shrug. "It's prettier on you." He hums and I flick my eyes up to him with a mouthful of cake. "How would you know, you didn't even get to see it on the rack?" I tilt my head and he shakes his. "I don't need to." He hums and I turn away from him with a heat rising to my cheeks. "Are you blushing?" He smiles teasingly and just as I am about to take another bite I freeze, then place my fork down. "I thought you'd be used to people calling you pretty by now? Or is it just me who affects you this way?" He presumes and I physically deflate, that he knows me too well to keep anything from him. "Can't I just go one day without you reading me like an open book?" I sigh, hoisting myself up onto the counter.
"Speaking of which, what'd I come in here for?" I look around the kitchen to get any clue but come up with nothing. I look at him and he shrugs with a mouthful of chocolate cake. "Can't you use your shadows to figure it out?" I swing my legs back and forth as they dangle. "That's not really how they work." He placed our dishes down into the sink, my eyes following him as he made his way in front of me. "Then, how do you gain information from people?" I ask, watching as his hands come to either side of my hips, caging me in between him and the counter. "I suppose I could interrogate it out of you?" He offers and I clench my legs together at the immediate sexual thoughts that pop into my head. "But my best guess is you came in here to get a glass of wine, as you always do before bed." He explains and my brows shoot up. "You're a genius," I smile brightly. I lean in and place a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Az," I exclaim and slide off the countertop.
"Anytime." He huffs a breath.
"Want a glass?" I offer as I open a cabinet full of wine glasses. He looks at his empty plate in the sink, then nods. "I'll cut some more cake."
———
Three glasses and two slices of cake later left me straddling Azriel's hips. I don't know exactly what happened, it was all a blur but what I do know now is that some selfish part of me doesn't regret it, and with the way the Shadow Singer was gazing at me it seemed he didn't either. Three glasses wasn't enough to get me fully intoxicated but, I was tipsy.
"Your eyes are so pretty," I observe, my hands cupping either side of his face as I angle it towards me drunkenly. "Like, super pretty." I smile and his cheeks go red. "You okay Az?" I ran my thumbs over his cheekbones so sharp they could cut stone. "I have a pretty girl sitting on my lap, complimenting my eyes. Why wouldn't I be okay?" He tilts his head. "Cause your heartbeat is so fast." I smile teasingly and he mirrors it. "So is yours."
His hand comes up and intertwines with the back of mine, pulling it away from his face while his other hand finds purchase at my thigh, bare due to the fact of my short nightgown riding up from this position. His gaze holds mine but he doesn't say anything, so neither do I. Something magnetic pulls me closer to him like we were meant to slot together. "This is dangerous," I mumble as my other hand snakes around to hold the back of his head. "I don't think you care that much." He hums. "You know me too well." I grin and he leans in, crashing his lips onto mine.
I melt into the feeling, hand shooting into his dark hair as both his arms secure around my waist and drag me into his chest. My hands roam from his neck down his shoulders, his tattooed biceps that flexed beneath my touch, the same ones I've stared at for years now, the same ones I've ached to get my hands on. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He confesses, his voice raspy as he pulls at my chin and opens my mouth for better clearance. He's precise when pushing his tongue into my mouth, his movements are calculated and careful as he explores every crack he can mold to, analyzing and memorizing just in case this ends sooner than it should.
I buzz with need, I couldn't get close enough. Every part he didn't touch left me cold, and when he pulled away I was starved. His calloused, large hands map every inch of my skin, slipping beneath my dress to span the distance of my waist without barrier, pulling me into him with the same passion I felt burning through every nerve in my body. I smile against the electric pulse that darts through the both of us.
It just felt so right, like this was what we were made for. I felt like I was on fire, and it was his match that set me aflame.
The front door swings open, inviting the freezing air to enter. I tear away from Azriel at the intrusion and look up towards the doorway, where Morrigan stood, stunned.
A smirk etched across Azriel's lips as he leaned back into the couch, staring up at me still perched on his lap with glazed-over eyes and messy lipgloss. He was sitting there observing me caught red-handed like I was a statue he just finished sculpting. "I— I'm so sorry, I'll come back later!" Mor says, a bit frazzled as she tightens her scarf around her neck and turns on her heel, leaving the house.
I look back to Azriel with heated cheeks. "You heard her coming!" I grab a pillow and hit him repeatedly with it as he playfully pushes it away. "It's just Mor, what are you ashamed of kissing me?" He tilts his head and I drop the pillow. "I need to go get her and explain." I begin clambering from his lap but his big hands that still held my waist from beneath my dress forced me back down. "One more kiss before you go?" He flashed me a teasing smile, and to his shock, I leaned down and pecked his lips lightly in such a casual way it left the Shadow Singer dazed.
I successfully slipped off his lap, scrambling to grab my coat off the rack and shoving my arms through it as I left the cozy house and stepped onto the porch where Morrigan waited, hands shoved in her pockets. "What are you doing here so late?" I whisper shout to her and she whirls to face me with a wide-eyed expression. "You're the one who has explaining to do." She returned and my jaw clamps closed. "I was only stopping by to ask if you wanted to go to Rita's with me, but you're busy." She smiled teasingly and my cheeks flushed, I blame it on the cold weather. "It wasn't like that, we're drunk." I excuse. "And horny," I add and she deadpans. "You've also been flirting with him for years." She reasons. "I knew this would happen," She sings with a mischievous grin.
She had a point, the sexual tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "So, Rita's?" She brushed past the elephant in the room, sensing I wasn't ready to talk about it. "Maybe tomorrow, I'm going to bed." I huff. "Sure you are." She winks and I roll my eyes. "I'm picking you up tomorrow then, be ready— I don't want to walk in on anything my virgin eyes shouldn't be seeing." She joked and I playfully pushed her towards the steps down the house. "Have fun at Rita's, see you tomorrow." I giggle and she waves me off.
———
"Az?" I poke my head into the Shadow Singer's office only to find him hunched over a book with a crinkle between his dark brows. I smile and mosey into the room, heels lightly clicking against the hardwood floors as I find my way in front of him, my hip leaning against the desk. "Az," I call, putting a finger to the spine of his book and angling it downward so I could see his face. "I'm leaving, you sure you don't want to come with me?" I tilt my head and he shakes him, sinking deeper into his chair, wings fanning out on either side of him. "You sure you don't want to stay?" He offers and the tone of his voice makes it sound alluring. But I've been dying to get out of the house even since that kiss, he didn't mention it so I didn't either— but I didn't just want to ignore it, he felt what I did too, I know he did. He looks up at me and his book snaps shut, eyes widening slightly.
"You're wearing that?" He swallows.
"What's wrong with it?" I look down at the cerulean-colored dress that hugged my body in all the right places. His eyes narrow at me and he sits up. "It's a bit, short, no?" He tilts his head slightly, eyes tracking over my bare thighs and a smile curves my lips. “I’m wearing shorts,” I shrug and he twists his lips to the side, clearly upset at the idea of me flaunting in a dress so short without him there to make sure no one unwanted approached me. "It's a pleasure hall, I'll be one of the more covered ones old man," I excuse as I push off his desk and walk towards the door. "Wait," He springs up from his chair and meets me in the hall. "I'll go too— just, five minutes." He rushed down the hall and stumbled into his room.
I smile widely at the reaction, I always preferred when he went out with me. Pleasure halls and clubs were never my scene, Azriel might enjoy it more than me. If Mor hadn't asked me to come out tonight I probably would be snuggled up beside the fireplace with a steaming mug of tea and a good book. Whenever Azriel went to places like Rita's with me he was always a good escape plan. He was always there to take me home if I grew bored or tired. Always.
Exactly five minutes later Azriel came out of his room, appropriately dressed. "Ready?" I tilt my head, a lock of hair falling into my face at the movement. He eats up the distance between us in two long-legged strides. He nods, reaching forward and tucking my hair back behind my ear. "You look pretty." He said and I shyly smiled. "You don't clean up too badly yourself." I hum, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His gaze caught mine, that familiar hazel had something foreign lingering in them, something welcoming that I didn't quite recognize. His gaze, just for a moment, flicks down to my lips so fast I wouldn't have seen it if I blinked. But I did see it. I stumble a step closer, that magnetic feeling coming back but before I can get any closer the door swings open, and Morrigan stands there with a cunning smile. I whirl around to face her with pinched brows. "You need to learn how to knock," I sigh, walking towards the coat rack and shrugging my coat on. "I did?" She crossed her arms defensively. I look toward Azriel with a raised brow and he just shrugs silently.
"C'mon, I wanted to be there twenty minutes ago." She grabs my wrist and pulls me out onto the porch. I grab Azriel by the hem of his jacket and pull him with me. "We're on a schedule?" I mumble confused. "Emeries shift ends soon." She grabs Azriel's arm and winnows us without warning.
My head spins at the sudden jump in the atmosphere. The cold porch of my quiet neighborhood compared to the heat of the loud pleasure hall. A wave of nausea rolls over me and both of Azriel's hands come to my shoulders, steadying me before I can tip over. He doesn't say anything, he knows I just need a moment to collect myself. So he holds me near and away from drunken fae getting too close for his liking.
"You're okay?" He says over the blasting music and I look up to him. The flashing red and blue lights make him look angelic, gods he's so pretty— and I'm not drunk enough for this. "I think I need a drink," I say back and he nods, hands leaving my shoulders. "I can arrange that." Mor croons as she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me towards the bar.
The crowd parts in half for her, making a clear path to the bar with me in tow. She finds two vacant stools and quickly swoops them before anyone else can. Emerie walks over with a smile as she washes a glass. "What can I get for you ladies?" She sings. "Just get me what you usually get," I say to Mor and she nods. She and Emerie chat for a while then she orders. I rarely drank anything but wine— but that wasn't exactly a club drink.
Emerie slides some sort of cocktail in front of me and I thank her before lifting my glass and taking a small sip. I immediately wince and put the drink back down. "What's wrong?" Mor laughs as I force myself to swallow down the burning liquid. "Strong," I croak out and her smile only widens. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have ordered doubles." She shrugs and my brows shoot up. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" I scoff and she grins mischievously before slipping from her chair. "I'm gonna go dance." She evades and I roll my eyes as she leaves the seat next to me empty.
Cautiously, I take another small sip from my glass but it didn't magically get any better from last time so I set it back down and don't plan to pick it up again.
Azriel finds a place beside me on Mor's forgotten stool. I look over to him with a smile. "Already tired old man?" I tease, bumping his shoulder with mine. "What?" He creased his brows, clearly not able to hear me over the music. He leans closer, lowering his head. "I asked if you were tired already," I say over the music, then pull back to look at him. He smiles softly before putting his hand on the back of my neck and pulling me back towards him. "You keep calling me old but we're only like three years apart." He says and I shrug, leaning closer. "It's about the mindset," I say with a soft chuckle. He pulls back and looks at me confused. "I can't hear you," He yells over the music and I roll my eyes, leaning closer than before. "I said it's about the mindset," I repeat then pull back a mere inch, our faces centimeters apart and he stares at me, either trying to piece my words together or too distracted to think about anything because he wants to kiss me again, and gods was I praying it's the latter.
"You want to get out of here?" I ask with a tilt of my head. "You're not going to drink that?" He gestures to the cocktail in front of me and I shake my head no. "It tastes like rubbing alcohol and a squeeze of lime," I reply and a smile pulls at his lips. "We can open a bottle of wine at home." He offers and I nod. "You know me so well." I stand from my stool, I presume he doesn't hear me because he doesn't reply.
———
"Are you visiting your family in Autumn tomorrow?" Azriel asks as he refills my glass. "Unfortunately," I sigh, dreading seeing my parents again. "My brother is coming in the morning to winnow me there," I explain. I couldn't winnow to my childhood home by myself, it was warded so only people who lived there could enter. My father put that in place the day I left. "Why visit them?" He creased his brows and I shrug. "They're my family," I murmur, it's the only excuse I can manage to come up with. "You have a family here too." He reminds and a smile pulls at my lips. "I know," I take a small step closer to him. We stood in the kitchen beside the counter, the lighting dimmed and soft, the opposite energy of the pleasure hall. "But they let me live here on my own without ruling over my entire existence." I shrug. "I owe them a visit every few months." I finalize and he nods, not wanting to intervene any further.
"I'll be back by tomorrow night though," I smile up at him. "You won't have to suffer without me for too long." I tease before taking a sip of my wine. He raises a brow at me, clearly amused. "You're so annoying." He let out a breathless laugh. "That's not what you said last night," I quip, leaning back against the counter, pinned under his gaze as he looks down at me.
"Careful." He warns and the deep sound of his voice has my heart rate quickening. What is wrong with me? "You don't like the truth?" I hum, my bottom lip pinched beneath my teeth as I grin up at him. "Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you." His expression hardens. My smile doesn't even falter. "Is that a threat shadow singer?" I tilt my head tauntingly. He leans closer, his hands coming to the counter behind me and entrapping me between his arms.
"Do you want it to be?" His brow raises a fraction and my smile seems uncontrollable at this point. His eyes flick down to my lips then quickly back to my eyes. "I thought you liked my mouth?" I taunt. "Shut up already," He grumbles, hand coming to my neck before pressing his lips into mine.
I melt at the feeling I've been craving since I pulled away last night. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and lean into him. He manually angles my head so he can kiss me deeper, prying my mouth open with his tongue before sliding it in. I allow it, reveling in the feeling of his chest pressed against mine, his hands all over me, and his lips pressed into my mind. It felt unfamiliar, yet we slotted together like puzzle pieces. He filled me whole, his hands traveling down my waist to the bottoms of my thighs where he lifted me in his arms.
I tightened my grasp around him, my chest pressed to him as he carried me away from the kitchen. “I don’t want to ignore this,” I murmur against his lips. “I want you,” I confess and he smirks at the sound of desperation in my voice, making my cheeks flush. “I need you.” He hums and the knot in the base of my stomach tightens. I squeeze my legs around his torso and clutch him closer to me as I plant my lips over his again.
He walks us down the hall but I’m too preoccupied with his mouth to care where we’re going. He hums in approval when I bite at his lower lip, hungry for more. My back comes in contact with a wall and I immediately arch off of it and into his chest. One of his arms carried me while the other roamed up my body, my dress that had ridden up a noticeable amount due to the position. “Fuck me Az,” I hum greedily. He smiled against my lips and with one last peck he pulled away the slightest fraction. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words,” He purrs as he travels down my jaw, placing messy kisses down the column of my throat.
I tug at his shirt, needy for my skin to be pressed to his. I get the material up to his chest and my hands leave his shirt in favor of pressing them onto his exposed abdomen. “More,” I mumble dumbly and he latches down onto my neck in response, finding that sensitive spot and sucking, licking, nipping at it without hesitation. “Az,” I sigh out and he bites down hard enough to pierce the skin. I curse at the oddly arousing feeling and he pushes off the wall, carrying me towards his bed.
He lays me down, still hovering over me as he detaches from my neck, most definitely leaving a mark. He stands over me, looking down at my willing expression. I spread my legs further in a silent plea and a feline smirk spreads across his features. He discards his shirt and I nearly moan at the sight.
Large black wings fanning out behind him, the broadness of his shoulders, and the defined v-line at his hips make me ache. Gods, he was some sort of angel.
“Please,” I whisper as I watch him undo his belt, he doesn’t bother with his pants and takes his place over me, kissing up the valley of my breasts all the way to my lips. His large, scarred hand pushes up my tight dress. His hips settle between mine and I feel the hardness of him right against where I want him most. “Do you see what you do to me?” He said into the crook of my neck, slowly rutting his hips down onto my clothed folds. “Az,” I moan at the friction, hand coming into his hair and tangling into the dark locks.
“This dress, I wanted to rip it off you all night,” He confesses and a teasing smile pulls at my lips. “Then what are you waiting for?” I croon but don’t get a reply and instead, I’m met with a reading of fabric, the expensive dress torn in two and being discarded somewhere on the floor. “Fuck, you’re even more perfect than I imagined.” He hums as he leans up to take me in, lying under him clad in nothing but my underwear and a pair of spandex shorts. “You imagined this?” I tilt my head with a smile and he nods, leaning down and slanting his lips over mine. “Every night.” He hums as shadows swirl up my arms and wrap around my wrists, pulling them together and pinning them to the bed. I pull at them but to no avail, the darkness is much stronger. “Az c’mon,” I whine. “No baby, tonight’s all about you,” He says as he kisses down my neck and to my chest, taking my nipple into his mouth.
I moan at the sight, arching up for his access. I squirm as his hands meet my hips, pinning them down and stopping me from grinding against the air. I moan as he does something wicked with his tongue on my hardened bud, flicking and sucking on it. The sensitivity of it left me quivering.
He leaves my breast with one last swirl of his tongue and leisurely kisses past my ribs, to my navel, until his lips find the hem of my shorts. His hands are quick to discard them, joining my dress on the floor.
He continues his journey downward, two of his fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties. I can’t help but grind up at the sensation, mewling as I get a fraction of pleasure. “This is okay?” He hums and I nod. “I need words baby,” He presses a loving kiss to just above my undies. “Yes Az, please.” I consent and without any other words, he shreds my panties, tearing them into two as they fall off my thighs and the cold air hits my heat.
The smell of arousal doubles and he seems drunk on it. He leans down and licks one long stripe up my cunt, gaze pinned to me as he does so and I can’t help but maintain the eye-contact. “Fuck, baby you taste so good,” He praises, fingertips digging into my hips and I could tell he was constraining himself, holding back from how he truly wanted me. “More,” I pull at the shadows but they don’t give. “I need more,” I sigh and he obeys, live attaching over my clit and I gasped, his tongue teasingly tracing circles around the bud while he sucked on it.
One of his hands left my hips and traveled down past my thighs, two of his fingers dragging themselves through my sopping folds, coating them in his slick. “Az, I need you inside of me,” I whine as he slowly treks them down to my clenching entrance, tracing circles around the area. “Baby, you’re so wet f’ me,” He admires and I clench my eyes shut in embarrassment as I feel my arousal slip down my thighs. “All for you,” I murmur and that seems to push him over the edge because the next thing I know two of his long, thick fingers enter my craving cunt.
I cry out at the foreign stretch, his scared fingers brushing against my sensitive walls. The sensation left me grinding up onto his hand. He sucked harder on my clit and the mixture of both had a familiar coil beginning to grow in the pit of my stomach. His fingers curl teasingly slow, and as soon as he finds that sensitive spongy spot deep inside me he begins to toy with it, the sounds that escape me are unsolicited. “M’ close,” I huff out, head digging into the pillows as he lightly nips at my clit, making me scream in pure pleasure. “Cum for me love,” He whispers against my cunt, his breath fanning over my wet folds.
Then he reattaches and digs his tongue into the pink, sensitive bud, causing that coil to tighten and then snap.
A flood of white-hot pleasure consumes me, waves of ecstasy wash over me, leaving me flushed and covered in my fluids, and when I finish, it’s his name on my tongue, like it always was on those late nights when I had nothing but my own hand— but now he’s here with his tongue delving through my heat, completely entranced with me.
His fingers finally leave my cunt and he lifts away, licking his lips as to not waste a single drop of my release. His hips returned to mine, his heavy, hard cock pressing into my bare pussy and suddenly it was too much, overstimulation absorbing me as he thrashed his pants off and his hard member smacked up against his abdomen. My mouth waters at the sight of it, his tip red and leaking pre-cum down the side. I tug at the shadows binding me, wanting to touch him, to run my finger down the pulsing vein at its underside.
He tuts and presses it down onto the apex of my thighs. The heat between us was enough to light a furnace, gods he looked so perfect above me like this— and finally he had his cock lathering itself in my own fluidity. I moan as the head of it snags at my clit, his pre blending with my own juices. “Az please,” I whine out and he aligns himself with me, prodding at my entrance. We both watch as he pushes into me, his glistening cock slowly disappearing inside of me. I can’t watch for long, my body too focused on how it feels for me to be able to hold myself up. I squirmed as his wide cock pushed deep into me, and every time he entered another inch I moaned, my walls molding around him as he stretched me beyond capacity. Fuck, he’s so big. “Gods, your pretty pussy is sucking me in so good.” He grits out, white-knuckling the sheets beside my head as he refrains from slamming into me. This pace was just as painful as it was pleasurable, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he went any faster.
He rolls his hips and in doing so enters another inch, I arch up and he goes deeper finding that familiar spongy spot, and I mewl. “There, please right there Az,” I cry out and he lets out a soft chuckle against my shoulder. “I’m barely halfway baby,” He purrs and my brows knot, how could he go any deeper? I didn’t have to wait long for the answer because before I knew it he slammed the rest of him inside of me, his tip brushing against my cervix, and the unknown yet stimulating feeling left me screaming out his name.
My nails dig into my palms as he pulls out then slams back home. His hips snapping to mine, his balls slapping against my ass. “Gods you take me so well,” He admires as tears spring to my eyes. Every time he brushed up against my cervix I couldn’t breathe, he was so fucking big. He continued to ruthlessly ram into me, his speed unmatched as he pounded past that sensitive point nestled inside of me and instead pushed to places where I’d never been touched before, and gods did I love every second of it.
“Feel good love?” He hums below my ear and I open my mouth to reply but words fail me and I can only moan, too fucked out for coherent sentences. He smiles and bites at my lobe, then presses a kiss just below it.
He continues to hammer into me while I pulse around him. “I’m so, so close,” I rasp out, my pussy raw and red as he abuses it. “So fucking tight,” He grunts as he tries to pull out but u are clenching around him too hard, sucking him back in, needy for all of him.
He slammed back in, his base brushing against my clit and that was enough for me to let go, my release coming over me full throttle as a euphoric sensation crashed down onto me, my pleasure blooming right where he was inside of me.
But once I come down from my high he doesn’t pull out, he continues slamming his tight balls into me, rolling his hips over mine. I whimper as the overstimulation consumes me, biting at my bottom lip to stop myself from crying, tears flowing down my cheeks but he doesn’t care, because I realize he isn’t an angel, no, he’s a fucking devil and he wasn’t going to stop pushing into me until his release was nestled deep inside me.
The shadows leave one of my hands, only so he can grab my wrist and guide my palm down my stomach until I can feel his cock moving inside of me. “Feel how deep I am?” He hums and I nod, too fucked out to conjure up any words. “Gods you’re such a good girl,” He praises, pulling me close as I arch into him. My now free hand comes to his back, scratching down his shoulders as my nails dig into his skin. He twitches inside of me, signaling that he’s close. He curses, not wanting this to end, but he can’t help but chase his high, somehow managing to go faster. His face falls into the crook of my shoulder and he kisses and bites at the area. “Az— Ah, too much,” I shake my head and he twitches. “Fuck, say my name again.” He sighs out. “Azriel,” I mewl, hand finding his hair and pulling at the loose curls. “Az, m’ close please,” I whine out, tears streaming down my face. “Me too love, me too.” He reassures and I nod with a whimper.
He slowly pulls out to his tip, only the head of his cock inside of me until suddenly he pushes back in, ramming into my cervix I bite down on my lip at the pleasure, and before I knot it the knot inside of me snaps and my eyes are rolling back as I finish for the third time tonight. I’m too drunk on my high to even register his warm release as it spurts into me, at my cervix, and straight to my womb. I sigh as I milk his cock of its fluids. He groaned out my name as he finished, his lips lining kisses up the side of my face as he muttered about how well I did for him.
After a moment of him nestled inside of me, he slowly pulled out, dragging moans from the base of my throat as he brushed against my over-sensitive walls. “My sweet girl,” He whispers, pecking my lips and I weakly kiss him back. Shadows unravel from my wrists and are free to move off my own volition, but I don’t, my high still lingering as his cum seeps out of my cunt.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He tilts his head and I nod. The bed dips as he gets up, puts a pair of sweats on then walks back over to me.
Gently he picked me up, carrying me bridal style to the connected bathroom where a basin of steaming water was already ready. He placed me down on the cool counter and I smiled as I watched him get a cloth and begin to wipe down my legs.
He was being so gentle not to spike my pleasure any further, cautiously wiping away at my inner thighs. I lean my head against his shoulder, too tired to sit up on my own. Shadows soothe my back, the coldness of them making me sigh in relief. “Stay here okay?” He hums as he puts the cloth back into the basin and I nod, I doubted I could walk if I tried.
He leaves the bathroom and is only gone for a few minutes before he returns with a pair of clothes. A soft smile spreads across my lips as he pulls the nightgown over my head. It was a soft, sheer chiffon the color of a pastel blue. He then hiked a pair of clean undies up my thighs then over my ass, cupping my sensitive heat.
His hands come to my waist and he lifts me, carrying me back to his bed. He places me down onto the soft mattress, the sheets cold as my head hits the pillow. He joins my side, pulling the blankets over the both of us. I flip around and look up at him, his sharp features seeming so gentle in this light. I bring my hand up and cup his neck, my thumb rubbing at his jaw.
He stares down at me with adoration and I grin, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. I wasn’t worried about what this made us, or what we were going to say in the morning. I was busy cherishing the way his strong arm came around my waist and he pulled me towards him, needing me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and no words are spoken as we lay beside each other, occasionally pressing kisses to the other’s lips when impulsed, basking in each other’s warmth and affection.
———
I was still half asleep when I heard a door slam shut and I startled awake, launching upward. The hand around my waist slips down and I'm greeted with a groan of protest, that same arm pulling me down again. "Azriel someone's here," I say maneuvering out of his hold. "Your brother?" He mumbles and I gasp, quickly slipping from the bed as I curse myself for forgetting that he was coming today. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I repeat as I scramble for something that offers a little more coverage than my sheer nightgown.
I spot Azriel's plain black shirt hanging from the side of his desk chair and swipe it, pulling it over my head. "Come back to bed," Azriel groans, still half asleep. "Baby please," He whines when I ignore him. I throw a pillow at him and he startles upward. "My brother is here," I stress. "As in, probably walking down that hallway right now and I don't have pants, so where are my clothes," I say and he rubs his eyes. "Hamper." He points to the laundry basket and I fish through the clothes, finding my pair of shorts from last night and hiking them up my thighs.
I run my hands through my hair a few times and hope to the gods I look presentable enough to face my sibling.
I creak open the door softly, exiting into the hallway silently praying he doesn't spot me sneaking into my room. I'm quiet on my feet as I tiptoe to my bedroom, slipping in and closing the door behind me with a sigh of relief, then looking up and gasping when I spot my brother standing over my bed, my bed that clearly wasn't slept in last night. He looks to me with a quirked brow. "I was brushing my teeth," I gesture to the bathroom down the hall and he nods, taking in my appearance. "I'll be ready in ten minutes, I'm sorry, I slept through my alarm." I lie and he looks at me unimpressed. "It's fine, it's not like we're expected or anything." He snakily comments and I refrain from glaring at him and instead laugh at his sardonic joke. He leaves my room and I close the door behind him, quickly rushing over to my wardrobe. My legs were beyond sore but I pushed the pain aside. I found a day gown that was acceptable enough to wear to my parent's house and stripped out of my shorts and Azriel's baggy t-shirt before pulling the dress over my head while hobbling over to my vanity.
I was only going to brush my hair until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided just a brush wouldn't do. I tied my hair up in the easiest yet neatest style I could conjure. I was ready in less than five minutes and in all honestly, I was a little proud of myself.
I left my bedroom, expecting my brother to be waiting right by my door only he wasn't, he was nowhere to be seen in fact.
I wander down the hall. "I’m ready!" I call throughout the house but I get no reply. I call him again but, nothing. I pad into the kitchen and spot Azriel leaning over the counter, pouring himself a steaming cup of black coffee. "Where'd he go?" I murmur, mostly to myself but Azriel's shadows slip from his shoulders and run across the floor only to swirl up my ankles then zipping down the hall, leading me to who I was looking for.
I chase after them immediately, they traveled past my bedroom, and up the walls before curving into the creaked door of Azriel's bedroom. My heart rate picks up as I open the door wider and am met with my brother's unmistakable figure. "What are you doing in Azriel's room?" I demand and he stiffens, turning to me and revealing what he was holding up. "The better question is, what is your dress doing in Azriel's room?" He holds up the short, blue dress and I open my mouth to reply but I come up with nothing.
"Are you going to explain, or should I assume?" He tosses the dress back into the hamper, amused. I grit my teeth. "Why the hel are you going through his stuff?" I snarl and he shrugs. "Had a hunch," He explains and I deadpan. "And based on the smell in this room, I'd say I was right." He smiles down at me and I debate slapping him across the face. "Have fun explaining to mom and dad." He grins and my eyes widen. "No, wait—" I begin but he winnowed away.
Dread consumes me and I quickly winnow after him, my willpower taking me right to the porch of my childhood home halfway across Prythian.
There’s no getting in, the wards were too strong and I was far from a spell cleaver. So instead I bang on the door, balling my hands into fists as I shout through the door, two inches of wood holding me back from stopping my brother from spilling my whole life story.
It was highly frowned upon to share a bed with someone you're not married to in this area of the Autumn Court, especially with a race like Illyrians who seemed to have the exact opposite ideals as my parents. I wish I could say I didn't care what my parents thought of me but I do, anyone would.
"C'mon, open up!" I shout and before the side of my fist can come to contact the door again, it swings open. I freeze. What exactly is my excuse? I probably should've thought about what I was going to say before I tried to knock on the door. My brother was the one to open it, a smug smile on his lips as he moved out of the way to reveal both my parents staring down at me very disappointed.
"You have to let me explain," I enter the house. "We don't want to hear it." My father shakes his head. "We let you have your freedom in the night court but I won't allow you to whore yourself—" My mother begins. "I'm not whoring myself, it was one guy who I've known for over a decade," I explain and she squares her features. "Now you interrupt me? What have those brutes done to you?" Her hands come to my cheeks like I've been injured. "Nothing, mother." I swerve out of her touch. "And they aren't brutes. They’re kind people and if you had the decency to care you'd know that." I say and my father bristles. "How dare you? If we didn't care then you would've been abandoned in the streets decades ago." He claims and my heart crumbled. "You're cruel, all of you," I looked to my brother who was leaning against the bookcase, basking in the chaos he created. "I don't want to listen to your sob stories anymore," My mother put her hand up like she needed to physically stop me. "I've had enough of your, activities—" She says but I cut her off again, "I told you, I've known this guy for years," I stress. "Then I suppose you'll have no problems marrying him." She crossed her arms and I looked at her like she's gone insane. She can't be serious, right?
"What?" I say as if I've misheard her. "You know it's disgraceful to copulate outside of wedlock," She begins. "So this male must atone for stripping you of your purity." My mother reasons. My jaw nearly drops. Strip me of my purity? "If you think he's the first male I've been with you're sorely mistaken." I nearly laugh. "Well I'm sick of it, it's improper and I won't allow my daughter to be a common whore so you either marry him or I don't ever want to see you in this court again." My father bellows over the both of us and I look up at him, his eyes the same as mine. I struggle to maintain steady breathing, they can't mean that. Abandon their only daughter?
I look at my brother. This is what he wanted. He's always been the favorite, the golden child who's never had to struggle a day in his life because his mommy was always there to patch him up when he fell. I grit my teeth and decide that replying with every rageful thought I could think of wouldn't help the situation. So instead, I spin on my heel and march past my brother, towards the front door.
I grab the doorknob but before I leave I turn and look at all three of them.
"I'll see you at the reception." I hum, then turn back and slam the door hard enough behind me to knock books off shelves.
———
When I got back to the house, to my house, I finally regained control of my breathing. I open the door and slam it shut behind me, anger still pent up at my fingertips. I spot Azriel, who had frozen in the middle of the living room as if he was in the middle of pacing back and forth. "What happened? What'd they say?" He immediately questions, taking a step closer to me. My eyes fog over. Not only because I was upset about the predicament but the fact that he was wrapped up in all of this too. I assume his shadows filled him in on what happened before I winnowed away without saying goodbye.
I stay quiet and look to the ground where Shadows pool at my feet, flicking up and occasionally twining around my ankle. "Hey, we don't have to talk about it." He reaches out and grabs both of my hands in his and I wish the touch wasn't as comforting as it was, wish I could find a reason to be upset about the idea of marrying him. I didn't want to give them what they wanted.
"They," I begin but can't seem to get the words out without a lump forming in the base of my throat. "They said they're sick of me, whoring myself around," I mutter with an exhausted expression evident in my creased brows and slumped shoulders. "Whoring yourself? That's ridiculous my love you're not—" He starts. "I know," I pull him closer and wrap my arms around his torso. It seemed so intimate but if there's one thing in this world that I could rely on to make me feel better, it was Azriel's hugs. He was warm and strong and embraced me like he needed to show me his love in a way I couldn't describe.
"They want me to marry you," I whisper and his reassuring rubs on my back halt. I flinch, this is exactly what I didn't want— but his soothing ministrations quickly return after a moment so I continue to explain. “They seem to think I'm going to become a prostitute if I don't get married soon," I say, pulling back slightly and looking up at him.
"And if you don't?" He narrows his brows, mind already working to fix this. "Then they'll disown me," I mutter, letting go of him and bringing my hands up to my face. "I just— I don't know what to do," I speak into my hands. "Marrying you after spending one night together is barbaric, but that doesn't mean I never want to see my family again." I reason, my hands coming down to my sides so I can look at him. "They might be hard on me but, they're still my parents. They raised me. You can't just ignore that," I begin to ramble and his hands find my cheeks, making me slow down.
"And, obviously I want to marry you but that's not something I can force you into," I sigh and his brows rise a fraction. I wait for him to say something, anything. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.
Instead of any words he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips that I return without a second thought, so easy it's like we've been together for years. "I want to marry you." He claims against my lips and the tightness in my chest lessens. "I planned on doing it eventually, what's a little earlier?" He hums and butterflies soar in my stomach. "I just wish it was up to us," I murmur. "I know baby, I know." He presses his lips to mine once again and I melt into it. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him closer. There was nothing lustful or hungry about it. It was sweet and soft and innocent, nothing like last night. He cradled my jaw with a gentleness I didn't know the Shadow Singer possessed and kissed me with such precision that I found myself falling into it. Somehow he managed to comfort me through the action, making me feel like this marriage would go just fine. I drag my hands down his arms up to his wrists and pull his touch away, then pull my lips away.
"C'mon, we've got a wedding to plan."
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sirenmoth · 6 months
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Monster Mash - Prologue
This is a collection of what was supposed to be small fics accidently turned full fics of you getting fucked by nine monsters, who are also your boyfriends (and each others)
CW: DUBCON, poly relationship with multiple monsters, polyamory, polygamy, polycule, free use, plot what plot/porn without plot, the plot is porn, mentions of anal sex and vaginal sex, mentions of aftercare, monsterfucking (Each chapter will have it's own warnings) This is an 18+ series with a female human
Monsters Included (In order of the series): Vampire, Drider, Satyr, Werewolf + Orc, Centaur, Naga, Siren + Merman, All Present
Monster Mash Masterlist Next ->
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Being in a relationship with nine different monsters was a very interesting thing, a day was never dull, watching the various ways they interact with each other and their environment in and around the shared living space, the small petty arguments and minor domestic disputes when one of them did something another didn't like were entertaining but exhausting. But they did agree on one thing, you.
Their little human.
It didn't start out like this, one by one you unknowingly added a monster to your list of lovers, to your harem. You met them at different times at different locations, getting to know them not knowing how they felt and why they started talking to you, if they knew you are talking to different monsters behind their back, they knew, they could smell each other on you. They never liked creatures outside their own kind, barely tolerated them if they had to interact with a different species, hell, most didn't even like their own species, finding them annoying or a waste of time. But with you that changed.
Watching from the shadows, they stayed close to keep you safe and the others away, getting into bloody fights if one got too close for the others liking, they'd sometimes go as far as to let themselves get bloodied and bruised just so you could pamper and coddle them once you saw the state they are in, littered in cuts and bruises, bites and scratches. It never lasted long, you'd yell and scolded them for being so stupid and reckless, for the petty territorial claim they put over you.
"Don't you have at least one thing all of you agree on? Like something in common and like enough to share?" You foolishly asked one day, not knowing what that would lead to, what one, innocent in nature, lone question made them all collectively agree for the first, and probably the last, idea they all agreed on.
Swallowing their self pride and ego, as well as their hatred for one another, they agreed on sharing. With a few conditions, they didn't want to lose their precious human. And if living together with a different species they loathed and could hardly stand meant they got to keep you, so be it.
They hated it at first, wanting you all you had to themselves, growling and snarling and hissing at the other residents if you got too close. Marking you in obvious places for all to see and scent you until the other couldn't stand being around. Fuck you in full view of the rest, knowing they can't get violence or aggressive without risking you avoiding them for a whole day.
It's their way of showing dominance over each other, showing they are the better boyfriend and mate. A way of saying they can please you better, make you cum harder, render you brainless quicker than any of them can, have you drooling and begging for more.
Overtime they adapted and accepted this new living arrangement, learning about each other and their lives, how their species acted and thrived and their cultures. It wasn't all happy and domestic though, arguments were and still are common. Your vampire lover screaming from his section of the manor for one of them to keep it down during the day while he was trying to sleep, the werewolf running around, both indoors and outdoors, to burn energy and disturbing Driders web or the Naga's nest, the list goes on.
Most took to living outside the manor you bought together since it came with a massive plot of land, in a small hut, barn, burrow underground or a body of water, just to live away from the chaos living with nine monsters brought and some alone time, in peace and quite with you, away from the bickering and shouting. A sanctuary for them to rest.
You love joining them and spending time there too, bathing in the silence, just you and your lover. They are more than happy to keep you there, all to themselves, full of their cock or cocks as they fucked you, or you fucked them, bouncing on their dicks or dicks, using them the way they use you.
One thing they were adamant on not sharing for the longest time, was you, yes, they agreed to live together, but that didn't mean they liked it or agreed to be nice to each other. Sharing you was off the table, if one wanted a turn they could wait, problem being that wait could be a few hours to a whole day, at worst a week or so.
That changed when you begged for two of them to tag team you, have you in the middle with one in your cunt and one in your mouth, maybe add a third. Oh, how could they say no to that? Having you looking all pretty and cute for them while getting treated like the monster cock whore you are.
It very quite became the norm to find one of them balls deep in one of your holes, pounding away like their life depended on it, bending you over every available, fucking you from behind until you were limpless and unable to move, holding you up and your legs open wide or your legs wrapped around their waist as they double dicked you down.
Leaving you spent and used out in the open for the next one, letting whoever decided to use you next had easy access to use you how they liked, to fuck you hard and deep, covered in bite marks and cum and sweat. Sometimes they'd tie you up with the Driders' silky webs or let the Naga wrap his tail around you to keep you in place, having you lay there like a premium sex toy only they can use.
You got used to being covered in some type of marking, bites and bruises was now a warm welcomed part of your life. Having your brain empty when the siren sang his song when you visited the backyard lake turned makeshift ocean for him and the Merman, impaling you o his inhuman cock, the Merman would join in, entering your puckered ass while you pulled you under the water, kissing you deep in heated moments to provide you with air. Leaving you on the shore once done to warm up in the sun as they laid half on the land, half in the sea, stroking your salt soaked hair from your eyes.
They still took care of you afterwards. After fucking you to the nine hells and the heavens and back, after rendering both your mind and body and voice useless, they'd pamper you they way you pamper them, telling you how good you did, how much they love you and are glad and grateful you're theirs. Undoing the silk, or licking up the blood, waiting for the knot to deflate or for you to catch your breath, which every one with you would cuddle you after cleaning you up. One or more would join until you were under a heap of warm and cold bodies, when asked they denied doing it because they loved each other.
Some didn't mind sharing most of the time, working together to ring out countless orgasms from you until it hurt, and you physically couldn't any more. Some refused to, wanting to keep everything you had to give and take to themselves and only sharing if they saw fit, or you begged on your knees. Another common was waking up sore and dripping with cum, sometimes in a new place after you traded you off to another one, you gave your consent for them to use you in your sleep or to continue to keep using you after they fucked you unconscious until they were satisfied.
But that didn't mean they were always in charge of the scenario and situation, they are, especially the werewolf, weak to your pout and puppy eyes when you ask them ever so nicely to tie them up and ride them or peg them until their tired and overstimulated, it was always a fun time, giving the same treatment they gave you, though they never gave in much, wanting you to be on the receiving end of what they have to give and the pleasures they can provide.
Your days are never dull, with nine monsters tending to your every need and whim, and you tending to theirs
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undertheorangetree · 10 months
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Three- The Coronation
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Summary- The coronation has come about on an even day.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Mention of (dragon) depression. Bitchy Cregan Stark. Cunnilingus. Fingering. P in V sex. Descriptions of child sexual abuse. Aemond’s brothel trauma. Still angsty babes.
Author's Note- This chapter is a beast besties (10.3k😬) brace yourselves. Link to the full story belowwww
series masterlist
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This high up, surrounded by nothing but the mist of the clouds and the frigid air, she feels as though she could go anywhere. It would be easy. One word and Silverwing would turn and fly across the Narrow Sea, deliver them both to the Free Cities. She could live well enough in Pentos or Myr, surviving off the good will of others and the menace that comes from her dragon. It would be an easy life, one that is becoming more and more appealing as the descent brings them lower, but she does not have Silverwing turn. Instead they continue their descent over Blackwater Bay, casting a dark shadow over the half repaired city below them before landing before the ruins of the Dragonpit.
It has yet to be touched since the storming of the pit, only the bodies having been cleared away, graves dug for the Dragonkeepers nearby. Being here makes her feel sick but it is the only place near enough to the Red Keep that can accommodate a safe landing. Even here though, it is difficult, Silverwing hovering in the air for a moment before finally managing to find a place clear enough of rubble to land comfortably.
Ser Willis Fell is waiting for them nearby, sitting proud atop his horse with the reins of another clutched in his fist. He inclines his head in greeting when she looks his way but she takes her time in dismounting. She stays in the saddle for a moment too long, only coming down when Silverwing lets out a mildly irritated huff, more than prepared to return to her nest after flying for so long. Though she loves to fly, she has noticed her dragon longing more and more for her nest these past few months. She has assumed that the loss of Vermithor, of her mate, has made her melancholy and she cannot find the heart to push her when she is so clearly devasted. They are two fragile beings now, broken and battered, and she can do nothing but pray that their bond will help get them through this.
Silverwing drops her head when she finally dismounts and she raises a hand to her muzzle, running it over warm dragonscale. Silverwing lets out another huff, bathing her in the smell of sulfur and ash with her breath and she lets her forehead rest on the dragon's nose for a moment. She breathes in the comforting smell of dragon, not quite ready to return to the Keep yet but knowing she has no choice, before stepping back with a nod. Though Silverwing hesitates for a moment, eventually she manages to depart, the beat of her wings sending the dust around them swirling.
With a haggard sigh, she turns on her heel and makes her way toward Ser Willis and the horses. They both balk somewhat when they smell the dragon on her, taking small steps back to distance themselves, but they are well trained enough not to run. Ser Willis dismounts at her approach, inclining his head, and she manages a small smile.
"Ser," she greets, acutely aware that this man was present on her wedding night, the memory forever lodged into her mind like an axe in a tree.
"Your grace. I trust you had a pleasant ride," he says, ever the picture of duty, one hand offered to her while the other holds the reins steady.
"I always do," she sighs, taking his hand and allowing him to aid her in mounting her horse.
She turns her chin up to watch Silverwing as she leaves, wings spread wide as she returns to the caves above the sea. Already there is a longing in her chest, wanting nothing more than to go with her, but instead she looks toward Ser Willis and offers him a nod, allowing him to lead the way back to the Keep.
With the coronation scheduled to happen the following afternoon, the main streets are far too chaotic to attempt to travel them. With so many lords and ladies still scheduled to arrive throughout the day, they are too crowded to so much as walk through, much less ride through on horseback or, Gods forbid, in a wheelhouse. Instead, Ser Willis takes them through the backroads, riding so close that their horses are all but pressed chest to flank. It is a poorer part of the city so she knows what he is expecting. For some cutthroat or beggar to come lunging from a dark corner in an attempt to slit her throat or steal his money purse, but other than a few bewildered stares followed by hasty bows, no one comes forward. She assumes they are all too busy watching the arriving lords, the current retinue making their way through the opposite street to so much fanfare she feels she may go deaf.
She looks over her shoulder to glance at Ser Willis, eyes still locked on the opposite street. "Who's arriving, do you know?"
He follows her gaze to stare through the awnings, squinting in an attempt to make out the heraldry. "House Karstark, I believe. No doubt Lord Stark is not far behind."
That gets her attention. She looks at Ser Willis for a moment, knowing her disbelief is palpable. Jace had written to her about Lord Cregan, every word filled with admiration and respect. He had gushed about how she must meet him, how after the war they would take their dragons and fly north so he may show her everything he had experienced there. He had raved about the weirwood forests, the Old Gods, the people who lived there. He had loved all of it but he had loved Cregan most of all. They had gotten on so well she had half the mind to believe they were brothers separated in the womb from the way he spoke of the young lord. When we go north together, he had said, you will see what kind of man he is. You will love him as I do.
She had wanted to meet him.
Jace had wanted her to meet him.
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Read the rest here :)
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sahisan · 2 months
Text
anniversary —
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⋆.˚°𖦹 — pairing . 18!pm!osamu dazai x 18!pm!gn!reader.
⋆.˚°𖦹 — summary . you're celebrating your first relationship anniversary.
⋆.˚°𖦹 — c/w . sfw. fluff. mention of alcohol. reader is mentioned to be a smoker and have no experience in romance. the smallest bit of dazai touching up your thigh. reader hates (-ed) physical contact but is taught to love it. dazai is loved and is in love.
⋆.˚°𖦹 — w/c . 4.0k.
⋆.˚°𖦹 — a/n . i thought of making it end with like some angst but decided that i want dazai happy here, so here you go.
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polished glasses gleamed with a faint lambency, reflecting the soft glow of the solitary lights of the bar—one of the few places he had actually trusted you with.
it was a lucky coincidence that the two of you had the rest of the night to yourselves; usually, mori bugs you with evening or overnight missions. and dazai surely wasn't going to miss the chance to spend as much time with you as he could—on your relationship's first anniversary, too.
"to our first year together," slowly lifting up his glass of whiskey, his dark hazel eyes met yours. a glimpse of a smile was etched onto his lips, the glow from the lights above illuminating the faint expression of fondness on his face.
your glasses clinked, echoing a delicate chime to cherish the past and the present, celebrating not only the months that had swiftly flown by since he began spending time with you, but a full year of partnership in crime. shortly after the toast, dazai simply watched as you retracted your glass away from his, eyeing you with intent. so before your lips could even touch the rim of the glass, dazai suddenly leaned in, tenderly closing off the distance between your mouths with his.
you stilled, eyes widening a fraction as you felt his lips on yours. they were always so soft—softer than you'd imagined before, softer than a mafia executive should have. even after a whole year, you still weren't used to the physical contact he offered you at all, hating every mention of physical touch and proximity before him; before he showed you that it could be harmless, even pleasant and fitting; intimate. dazai was always the one to initiate any type of physical contact, knowing it was one of the many things you struggled with, so, since the very first day, he decided for it to be upon himself to be your guide to the world of touch, proximity and tenderly whispered words.
thus, you were still just learning; how to kiss, how to use the touch given, how to hold hands, no matter how strange it sounded. and with the knowledge of that, you were quite timid in kissing parts, too, most of the time still not understanding where to put your hands, how to use your tongue, or how your lips should move.
and dazai knew it. he knew it all and understood, but he was as patient as earth, gently guiding you through it. it didn't cost him much effort anyway, and he actually loved the process every single time.
and you, in your turn, tried to keep up.
as your lips met, you didn't close your eyes, wanting to see him and to be aware of everything, but it still felt so... soft, coming from a person like him, towards a person like you. you liked it, no doubt, even if you didn't know what to do.
at the connection, dazai's free hand moved towards your cheek, the touch light and delicate like a feather as his fingers slightly caressed your skin, his cold palm a stark contrast against your warm flesh. it was quite endearing how timid you could be at times—it reminded him that this all was new to you.
he could tell by the way you kissed him back that you still weren't used to this. it was not that you didn't like it, just unfamiliar. even so, dazai patiently waited for you to catch up, knowing that behind your stoic facade was a bashful and innocent—in terms of romance—person who had no idea what to do with their hands at moments like these.
he had found your reaction to his approach amusing. the widening of your gaze, followed by momentary stillness, was something he would love to replay over and over again, just like the way he wanted to kiss you. forever and eternally.
slowly closing his eyes, dazai deepened the kiss and pulled you a bit closer. using his thumb, he caressed the corner of your jaw, wanting you to let him in fully. his other hand rested itself on one of your thighs as he listened to your attempts to calm both your heart and mind.
it was then that you exhaled a small, barely audible breath through your nose as he deepened the kiss, your tongues melting together. you were always meek at this point; not knowing what to do with your tongue at all, and you knew he'd found it amusing at some point still. but you figured you could leave it to him since he oh so willingly wanted to teach you to kiss and not only. and he did. and you were still confused and shy and it irritated you, at some point; you felt like you were doing everything wrong and messing the kisses up every time, even if he told you they were perfect.
still, you didn't budge. you liked the current atmosphere and predicament and his kisses, too; what's there to hide? despite you two being in a bar at the moment, where a person could walk in any moment, he didn't seem to care much about pda or its rules. it was always making you timid when he could just come up and kiss you when you were out in the city or somewhere where there were more than zero people around you.
your hand subconsciously placed itself somewhere above his knee, the other still holding the glass with the alcohol above the bar counter. he didn't even let you have a sip, but that doesn't really matter; you were always more of a smoker than a drinker anyway.
he could sense your inexperience and hesitancy right on your lips as you reciprocated the kiss. it was subtle and barely noticeable, but dazai had grown familiar with your tics—the way you stilled or the small gasp of breath you tended to intake before he initiated a kiss.
he chuckled softly against your lips as the two of you shared the intimate exchange, feeling how your body relaxed in his embrace. it was endearing how you were starting to give in to his influence and touch—he started to think that he might just outright break your walls one day.
dazai found it endearing, just like every other aspect about you that he liked. the slight tremors you make when you're nervous, the way you occasionally stutter when you're flustered, the way you always seem to turn into a shy mess whenever he does something affectionate...
with your tongue shyly meeting his and his thumb still caressing the corner of your jaw, dazai's hand started to move up your thigh—teasingly prying your limits, but not trying to make you uncomfortable. he knew that you didn't appreciate any type of invasion of your privacy, but he also knew that, as of now, you'd grown so much in this aspect as to stop him if he did something you didn't at all like or if that one particular action didn't feel comfortable for you.
exhaling another slow, faint breath, you let your eyelids close as you succumbed to the dance of your tongues inside your mouth, feeling as if you were nearly floating. you loved his kisses, and, even if you didn't voice it ever, you knew he knew it just perfectly. and as you thought of that fact, the tension in your body melted steadily second by second.
although, when his hand started slowly going up your thigh—and you knew the action didn't have any sexual subtext—it was enough for you to tense back just the slightest bit, though, surprisingly, without losing the rhythm of the kiss, of his lips moving against yours slowly.
still, it was quite too far for you as for now.
your hand, the one which wasn't holding the whiskey glass but was placed on his knee, went to place itself somewhere above the wrist of the hand that, at that moment, was going up your thigh on the cloth of your pants. it was a small sign—barely noticeable for others, but very much noticeable for him—for him to not go any further, a sign that the action was starting to make you uncomfortable. just a few months ago you'd be too timid and, maybe, even scared to even make this action to stop him; but now that you two have had enough talks about it and enough sessions of setting clear boundaries through your traumas, it had gotten easier for you, and you liked that fact quite a lot.
the slight tensing of your body did not go unnoticed by dazai. he noticed how you suddenly stiffened as his hand traveled up your thigh. there were no ulterior motives behind the act; he simply wanted to see how far he could push you, how far you would allow him to touch you as of now.
it was just him being his usual mischievous self—but he also knew you were still learning. learning to love. learning to be loved. learning how to be touched and not associate it with pain. dazai had learned long ago that he simply cannot push you too far, at least not for now.
"too far?" dazai asked in a low voice, a hint of mirth laced through his baritone, although the question was laced with a sense of concern as well. he slowly pried your hand off his wrist and placed a gentle kiss on your palm.
he then watched as you nodded slightly and looked away for a moment, feeling how the lingering touch of his lips on yours, as well as on your palm, awakened some kind of softness and warmness within you, just as it always did. just as he and his actions always did.
you exhaled a small breath, finally getting a chance to breathe after the kiss—he always did like to kiss you until you both panted for air when pulling away. you look up at his lips, then at his face.
"yeah," you replied timidly, as if afraid to scare him off—afraid to get rid of his touch completely—as you looked at your hand, the palm of which he'd just kissed and which was now just holding in his hand.
his eyes carefully observed you: the small gesture of looking away, the way you exhaled as the kiss comes to an end, the way your gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes; dazai wanted to commit every little detail about you to memory—the way you looked, the subtle movements you made, the way you reacted to his touches, especially with that bashful and flustered expression.
his lips curled into a tender smile as your words reached his ears. he could tell by the way your body had immediately gone rigid beneath his touch that his actions pushed you just a little too far. but unlike the other times, you had actually put a stop to it, and dazai was satisfied with that. afterall, this meant that you were slowly but surely learning to voice out your limits.
he didn't say anything as he slowly threaded his fingers through yours, lightly squeezing your hand as if to reassure you that you did nothing wrong, that he wasn't mad or upset at you for setting a boundary.
he could practically see the hesitation in your gaze, the anxiety that radiated off you in waves. it was rather easy to tell that you were scared to scare him away—the way you looked at your hand that he was now holding and not him, the way you tried to keep the distance between your bodies.
dazai was a bit stunned that you had still not learned how much you meant to him, how nothing you say or do will ever make him leave you. even after so many intimate conversations and reassurances, you were still so timid.
he brought your intertwined hand up to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. his thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, tracing the veins and knuckles beneath your skin. he gave your hand a small squeeze.
"noted."
you love dazai. you love the way he, a mafia executive who'd killed over a hundred people as of now—you're not far yourself, actually—respects the boundaries you set, the way he tries not to trigger any of your trauma. you love every one of these aspects more and more with each day, and him, of course, too.
still, it's hard. opening up is hard. letting him touch you in places other than usual is hard. but you try anyway. that's what a loved one is for, right?
despite not really wanting to do so, you unlaced your fingers, already hating the lost contact. not even a few seconds after that, you raised your hand up to his right cheek—the one where his eye is covered with bandages—and placed it on the skin there. your thumb rubbed along his cheek, lightly dragging over the bandages, too, but you didn't try to do anything with them. you two never talk about them, and you don't ask. that's what he's comfortable with.
you were never the one to initiate any physical contact with dazai; in your relationship, he's the one who clings onto you, though, obviously, not pushing too much. you've barely ever initiated hand-holding, usually weren't the first one to start a kiss, and you certainly weren't one to come up to him and just hug him out of nowhere or touch his cheek like you were doing now.
but you definitely like the feeling; no, you love it. and you think it'd be even better to actually get a bit more courage to start initiating kisses or hugs yourself.
it was a rare treat when you initiated affection, but dazai always relished in every single one of those moments. the way your hand lightly cupped his cheek was enough to elicit a wave of warmth in his chest. and when your thumb began to trace the outline of his bandages, he found himself leaning into your touch—a small gesture indicating that you were allowed to touch him in such an intimate way, something that he usually doesn't allow many—anyone—to do.
frankly speaking, dazai is not used to you being the one to initiate any form of tactile affection. it's always him pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, or simply leaning into your space. but today's a different story.
for a brief moment, he almost leaned further into your palm, letting out a sigh of contentment at the sensation; the gentle caress of your fingers against his cheek brought forth a sense of tranquility that he rarely experienced.
dazai's expression remained of that one full of love, and his eyes softened as he gazed at you. dark-hazel irises, like melted copper, now reflected a hint of affection—an emotion he rarely felt for others. it was only for you that he allowed himself to be expressive—to show his true colors. so he leaned a bit closer, his head tilting slightly so that he could press a chaste kiss to your wrist, his soft lips gently brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth.
even after that, his eyes remained fixated on you, studying the intricacies of your face—the way your brows furrowed ever-so-slightly as your thoughts ran through your mind, the smoothness of your skin, the subtle rise and fall of your chest. dazai couldn't help but wonder what was going through your head. it was always hard to tell with you; you never really divulged your innermost thoughts, but he always tried to at least figure out what you were thinking and what was going on behind the impassive mask of yours that you wore like armor.
"you really love me, sweetheart," he said in an almost teasing tone, but his voice was also laced with a hint of affection and vulnerability—a side that he only ever lets you see.
and you couldn't help it—you just couldn't help the way your lips curled upwards the slightest bit at his words against any better judgment, and you didn't care about trying to hold up a facade in front of him right now. none of that mattered anymore—you wanted to be real and to be yourself with him, to hell with everything else.
there it was. the curve of your lips that always sends a flutter of warmth through his chest. dazai rarely gets to see your smile, and every time he does, it feels like a personal victory. it was no secret to him how you dislike being affectionate in public. and yet right here, in the solace of lupin, you were willingly allowing yourself to be vulnerable. to be open and affectionate. just for him. dazai found himself becoming extremely vulnerable around you, allowing your touch, your affection, your love to slowly chip away at the layers of his icy exterior.
"i really love you, osamu," you confirmed quietly, thumb sweeping over his cheek again before stopping slowly, as you looked right into his eyes.
despite dazai's outwardly nonchalant demeanor, deep inside he was secretly swooning over the fact that he had someone who genuinely loved him for who he was. no more, no less. the warm and tender look in your eyes was something he would never get used to. to know that a person could look at him like that, with so much affection and love, was still something he struggled to believe on some days.
he loved the way you said his name. how it rolled off your tongue like a sweet melody; it sounded so right, so perfect, like you were meant to say it. his heart fluttered with every syllable that left your lips. in that moment, dazai forgets about the world beyond the two of you.
"say it again."
the words leave his lips instinctively, his voice almost a pleading whisper. the usual, confident and cocky dazai osamu, a mafia executive, is desperate for the sound of his name leaving your lips once more; desperate for your affection, for you. he'd never felt like this before, and if it had been some other person asking for your love like this, he would've found it pathetic.
but he doesn't care. not when it's you.
you almost let yourself smile further, let yourself get lost in these feelings, in the affection and love—but then seem to get ahold of yourself, though you're still smiling just the slightest bit, corners of your lips upturned as your thumb continues rubbing along his cheek.
"i love you, osamu," you repeat, words sliding off of your tongue like honey—with such ease and affection that it feels like you were born to say these words along with his name in the very end.
in that moment, dazai forgot everything. he forgot about his duties as a mafia executive, forgot about the lives of the people he took, forgot about his past trauma and memories, and forgot about the world around them.
the only thing that mattered was you. the way you smiled at him, the way you looked at him, the way you said his name.
dazai osamu, the demon prodigy, the youngest mafia executive, someone feared all throughout the underworld—his heart belonged only to you, and the mere sound of your voice was enough to make him feel alive.
he leaned in once more, lips gently capturing yours in a soft and slow kiss. it was different from your previous kiss. while the other one had been more passionate and sudden, this one is tender and unhurried. dazai takes his time as his lips move against yours with gentle and deliberate motions. he doesn't try to deepen the kiss; he doesn't try to take the lead, he simply relishes at the moment—in the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your tongue, the sound of your breath mingling with his.
it all made you exhale a small breath through your nose as your lips met yet again. you start thinking if he purposely doesn't let you take even a single sip from the alcohol—unlikely, but still, you don't mind; not at all. this is a celebration of your anniversary, after all.
you let your breaths entangle together, as well as the tips of your tongues, pda long forgotten as well—who needs any rules when you have love that you can give? the hand on his cheek continues to stay there throughout the kiss, some of your fingers brushing over the locks of his hair, some resting on his skin. you want this moment engraved in your mind as your eyes close, finally settling the glass of untouched whiskey back on the bar counter.
the kiss lasted for, maybe, a bit more than half a minute, a slow and gentle dance of lips and breaths. dazai relished every second of it, the feeling of your hand lightly caressing his cheek and the slight touch of your fingers against his hair nearly causing his heart to leap out of his chest. there's a sense of peace and comfort in the way you allow yourself to be vulnerable with him; it's so different from the usual stoic and composed exterior you put on around others.
eventually, he breaks the kiss, if only to give you both a moment to catch your breath. dazai leans his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors all the feelings inside him—he might want to burst from the amount of emotions he feels at the moment.
"happy anniversary," dazai muttered, eyes settling to look into yours. he did hear how you settle the whiskey glass beside you on the counter but didn't spare it a glance.
his eyes wander down to your lips, which are now slightly more red and rosy than usual because of the kiss. dazai gently reaches up to run his thumb over your bottom lip, tracing the outline gently and feeling the velvety soft texture of it.
he then looks back up into your eyes, noting how the usual aloof look is missing. perhaps it had disappeared the moment his lips met yours. he was fine with that—he loved seeing your more vulnerable and affectionate side just as much as he loved your closed-off demeanor.
"and now you can have the first sip," he grinned softly, knowing that, before the very first kiss a few minutes ago, you were about to taste the alcohol. after saying those words, he gave your lips a brief and chaste kiss before leaning back against the counter.
seeing you this relaxed and at ease with him was a sight he would never tire of, along with the fact that, in just a year, he'd managed to get you from shying away from him and his touch, fearing any kind of the latter, to initiating kisses and brief touches yourself.
he was proud of you.
and he was proud of you both for letting your guards down and trusting one another with, maybe, not the most hidden parts of your life, but with most of things and secrets and facts you two prefer to keep hidden from anyone else.
in your one year of being together, he never thought he'd be this enamored with a person. yet here he was, completely and utterly in love. so much so that he'd risk his life for you, without hesitation. without a doubt.
and without a doubt, dazai loved you.
146 notes · View notes
billskeis · 6 months
Note
Hii!
Culd you do a smut where Tom and fem/reader are at the movies, and it's like an 18 plus movie and Tom gets a boner and asks reader to help him out?
ᡣ𐭩 sneaky movie theatre acts w tom
as the two of you sit together side by side in the movie auditorium, you adjust yourself in the cinema seat watching the film presented in front of you. you wanted to go see this new movie called “the notebook” and begged and begged tom to go see it (knowing romantic films aren’t really his forte) but alas did he agree and here you guys are now!
to your naivety, you had no idea that this movie had a sex scene in it. the description only listed romance! (but clearly you didn’t scroll far enough on the website ratings that the movie was going to be 18+) now you remember as to why the worker asked for both your id’s.
a heavy sigh was heard from beside you. turning your head to look at your boyfriend, tom’s full and complete attention was on the movie in front of him. you watch as he try to not choke on the popcorn he scarfed down, the dryness of it clearly getting caught in his throat as moans echoed off the theatre walls.
“you okay baby?” you ask placing a hand onto his that lays on the armrest between the two of you.
“y-yeah.. just the popcorn—ahem—got caught in my throat,” he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“liking the movie so far?”
“i think we would’ve fucked better on camera.”
“tom!”
“did i lie?”
“yes!! absolutely, look at rachel mcadams, she’s gorgeous!!”
“not as pretty as you,”
“yeah right tom..” you scoff, now although he was your boyfriend and it was sweet of him to say, no way would you have done better than THE rachel mcadams!! and ryan gosling. tom laughed as you grip his hand for teasing him, silence between the two of you as to now watch the movie you paid for.
a kiss to the back of your hand as tom brought your hand towards his face, a blush cannot help but emit your cheeks as he smirks. still attentive towards the movie, with your hands still intertwined you feel it drag across tom’s body, feeling every inch of his clothing.
he stops.
he removes his hand so yours lay flat on his body, not knowing exactly where. the fabric feels rough on your palms but half of you didn’t seem to care as the movie was priority. with a rough press, tom presses his hand onto yours, utilizing your hand to palm him through his jeans as he lets out a breathy moan quiet enough that others don’t hear.
“unhm..”
“—tom are you fucking serious!?” you quietly scream at him as you pull your hand back but he grasps it quick enough to bring it back onto his groin. he has a boner, a fucking boner because of the movie. what a loser.
“y/n please..”
“no! tom! we’re in public wait ‘til we get home.”
“schatzi no! you took me out to see this movie so help me out! cmon baby i’m dying over here,”
“you’re insane..”
“i’ll eat you out once we get home :),”
.
“deal.”
with a smile to his face, tom takes off his sweater as you work the zipper on his jeans freeing his hard on from his boxers. you scoff as you take a look at the sight in front of you, from the dim light of the movie screen you see tom’s cock standing tall and pretty, twitching for stimulation. tom eagerly looks at you as he shakes his legs with impatience. you hold out your hand in front of his face, palms wide open.
“spit.” you demand.
and so he did.
with a quick ‘ptew!’ a glob of tom’s saliva collects and drops onto your palms to use for lubrication. you can’t lie, that was hot in the sense that he obeyed you like such a whore just impatient to be touched. sneaking your hand under the piece of fabric, you begin working your hand over the head of his cock, eliciting a small whine out of him.
“ah..”
“quiet, we’re in public..”
“baby..”
mixing his spit with his precum, your hand smears up and down the length of his member. it’s almost a dream come true and tom can swear he’s in heaven. you pay extra and loving attention to the head, motioning your palm in a circling motion to engulf the tip as tom jerks his head back in pleasure.
“fuck—schatzi—just like that, o-oh god..”
“feeling good?”
“yes, mmph.. s-so good..”
tom’s chest heaves as he holds tightly onto the seat, a grip on each armrest he squeezes his eyes shut. you stroke him even faster, tom’s jaw now hanging open as he lifts himself slightly off the seat to thrust into your hands.
“‘m—cumming..!”
drips of cum leak onto your palm as tom orgasms, small whines and whimpers escaping the bite of his lip as his lower hips shake and tremble under your touch. slowing down, tom rides out his orgasm and leans back into the seat with a heavy breath.
“have fun?” you place a kiss on his cheek.
“yes.. thank you princess,”
“let’s go home..”
“but the movie—”
“did you forget about our deal?? i want to be eaten out right. fucking. now.”
“yes m’aam🫡.”
197 notes · View notes
mysticmunson · 1 year
Note
Alpha!eddie purposely being kept away from omega!reader because he has the urge to breed her. He becomes extremely aggressive and stronger than usual. Everyone keeps them apart because reader hasn't been with anyone before and they are worried eddie will hurt her. But he finally gets out and while reader is taking a bath he slowly pushes the door open and well you know what happens next. 😏
little glass doves: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader
authors note: oh my, i love ur mind, i had so much fun with this and hope you enjoy it. feel free to send thoughts, feedback, or more ideas. much love :)
warnings: mentions of smut, brief smut, a/o/b dynamic, sexual markings (hickeys) (18+ no minors)
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The relationship was only a few weeks old when Eddie presented as an alpha and, mere days later, you an omega. 
Isolated for your presentations, you were inseparable when released, constantly by each other's side. Everything from your body spray, your toothpaste, and natural scent was making him drunk. It was just so fresh still, an entirely brand new situation for you especially who had never had a boyfriend.
Before, you and Eddie had been close friends and then started to date. He pulled out all the classics, a drive in, a walk in the park, and even going to some pop concert you had been talking about for weeks. But the farthest you two had gotten was oral. 
Tasting you was intoxicating, still feeling the way your folds kissed his lips that dripped with your arousal. Your mouth on him made him weak, feeling like he could burst at any moment with only one thought on his mind. You.
So as you reunited, something always came up when you tried to be alone together. Nancy had, for some inexplicable reason, been walking behind the school when she spotted the two of you making out. He had the urge to just scream for her to go away, but it also made him realize fucking against the back of the school wasn’t an ideal first time.
Despite this, he littered your skin with hickeys from the quick make out seshes he could muster in between classes. His hand was like a vice on you, not wanting any space between your tingling skin. Only people could force him away from you.
It was the very reason Eddie sat with Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle at the diner just outside of town. The waitresses knew them by name, letting them have the best booth in the house, starting with french fries for the table.
“Dude, these fries feel like angels tap dancing on my tongue.” Argyle mused, mixing his ketchup and mayonnaise into an interesting pink color, dipping a crisp potato. 
The surrounding boys agreed and Eddie ate reluctantly, only envisioning you. He would do anything to have you alone right now, but Nancy, Eden and Robin insisted on taking you shopping. 
“Hey!” Steve yelped, blowing the paper of his straw at Eddie’s reddened cheeks due to a strange mix of frustration, arousal, and anger. “We’re trying to talk to you.”
“What.” He bit, crossing his arms and leaning against the turquoise leather seats that squeaked. 
“We’re going to the movies later, you’re coming. It's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Jonathan explained, taking a sip of his Coke, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
Shaking his head adamantly, he scoffed, bewildered they would even suggest. Typically, that would be his type of night, but not when he knew you'd be alone, ready for him at home. With your body becoming accustomed to your omega needs and desires, all Eddie could think of was pumping you full.
The idea of having kids didn’t thrill him until you, now he wanted to fill you to the brim, watching it slip out so he could push it back in with his fingers. He’d chuckle at your sensitivity as he gave you another load, your mascara running down your pretty cheeks as you begged him to fill you one more time. 
He could see it perfectly, tempted to just crash wherever the girls had taken you and bring you to his trailer. Or even your home, decorated in soft colors and scented like pastries from the assortment of candles. He had only been over a few times as his trailer seemed to be the common meeting grounds, but even then, he thought of making you fall apart. 
He’d get hard as you sat innocently, gasping when you felt him, sitting on his lap with wide eyes. He’d get you naked, grabbing your hips and fucking into you with miniscule time in between. It was almost shameful how much the idea of using you like a fuckdoll turned him on, but he would always make you finish, comfortable and loved. 
“You’re not gonna see her tonight, man.” Steve sighed, looking with empathy at Eddie’s stern face that clearly was holding back a lot of emotion. Each word they spoke seemed to derail his plans, forcibly jostled around as if in amusement.
“What the hell are you guys talking about? I’ve been trying to see her alone for two weeks and something always comes up! I’m fucking over it.” Eddie huffs, voice raising slightly, drawing the attention of the older couple in the front, sipping their coffee. 
They looked away once Steve swirled his finger, making them turn back around in shame that they had been caught. 
“Can’t have any lil Munson-reno’s out there.” Argyle hummed, creating the nickname from the crevices of his brain, giggling to himself after he said it. 
“That’s none of your business what we do-“ Eddie snapped, hands going to the table as he leaned forward, clutching the white, wooden table.
Jonathan grabbed his shoulder from beside him, yanking him to sit upwards and patted his back. He attempted to take a deep breath, knowing he was on a hormonal high, but also notoriously not a fan of people telling him what to do.
“C’mon man, she didn’t even do it before presenting and we all went to the same health class so we know alphas are a lot. Now, she’s an emotional mess and you,” Jonathan accentuates by poking his chest, “Are basically a hormonal bomb ready to impregnate anything. Just wait.” 
Cringing at his wording, Eddie’s face scrunched as he grumbled. It was crude, but the worst part was that he was right. You probably needed something more gentle than what Eddie could give you at his heightened state.
“I won’t be rough, asshole.” Eddie all, but growled, fisting the white napkin in his fists.
“Eddie, you’re not a violent dude, we know that. But this? This is instinct, it takes over the second it happens.” Steve lectured as kindly as he could, “We know you care about her, but you’re already marking her up with the few minutes you do have alone.”
Why did they have to be right? He wished he had a shock collar that would zap anytime he went too rough, but you were so receptive, basking in it even in the few moments. His thought process was cut short when the waitress brought over his burger, thankful for even the smallest distraction. 
The boys did a good job of entertaining Eddie for the next few days, just as the girls had been for you. Keeping you distracted was a different type of battle though. 
You weren’t aggressively trying to run towards him, elbowing anyone out of the way. Your response was more solemn as you emotionally craved your boyfriend, not officially becoming alpha and omega paired. It registered as almost a cruel rejection, wishing for even a moment alone to prove how good you could be for him.
Thinking of him made your eyes haze, clutching to the shirt he left over weeks ago and not wanting to leave bed. Or crying over not seeing him for a few hours, something you never would’ve done previously. 
“I know it sucks, babe, but we’ll be here to cheer you up!” Eden consoled, rubbing your back in small circles as you laid on your side on Robin’s couch. Eden was the only one who truly knew how you felt, presenting as an omega a few months ago, but Argyle hadn’t. Boys typically presented later, stereotypically alphas, but sometimes omegas or betas.
A week went by, Eddie was getting restless as were you. The brief moments in school were refrained to holding hands and sitting beside each other with far too many layers of clothes between. 
He had accidentally dropped his DnD dice in your English class, having to rush out to meet a customer in the woods, so you picked it up. Twirling the blue D20 with white numbers, still not entirely understanding the game, but knowing enough to watch every Friday. 
Passing by Dustin, you told him to mention the dice, when Eddie made his way back to campus. He nodded, not paying much attention as he and Mike argued about if riding their bikes to school was dorky or not. 
You had made it home by the time Dustin told Eddie, holding out his hand for the sketches the older peer promised to lend him to trace. The younger boys rode off as he walked to his van, sitting in silence for a moment. 
This was his chance, he could finally be with you alone in your home, surrounded by your dainty trinkets on your night stand and pretty dresses in your closet. Everything about you made him swoon no matter how mundane. 
He talked himself out of it, reminding himself that you might need more time and getting riled up will only make him pent up. More than anything, he craved intimacy in other ways like your movie nights that occurred when you were just friends. 
He hadn’t even realized he made it to your house until he stepped on your doormat, the crunch beneath his feet making him knock. A few seconds passed by until he knocked again, sighing with no answer. 
The spare key was hidden under the mat, figuring you were listening to music or studying, and you assured him that he could let himself inside, even when just friends. His hands were shaking as he unlocked it, taking off his white sneakers inside. 
Wandering around the quiet halls, he was growing more curious as to where you were, knowing you didn’t do any extracurriculars this week. Curiosity was shot down when he saw the light from the bathroom creeping into the rest of the walkway.  
With no one due home for hours, you had left the door wide open, sitting inside the pure white tub. You looked completely relaxed, dewy from the heat steaming from the water, glancing over when you saw him. 
“Oh, hi Eds,” You smiled, slightly embarrassed, “Y-your dice are in there.”
Fuck the dice. Not when you were sitting completely naked beneath a sea of white bubbles, skin soft from the creamy body wash you used. He trudged forward, clenching his eyes tight and inhaling.
He mentally slapped himself, making his way over to your bedroom, his dice resting beside your two petite glass doves. The two birds connected at the mouth, something you found at a trinket store, insisting you purchase it. He tried to forget you were in such a compromising position only feet away, but the memory only reminded him how gentle and sweet you were. 
The pattering of feet brought his attention to the doorway as you stood, wrapped in a yellow towel, heat rising to your cheeks from the cleansing and intensity. He didn’t say a word as he shoved the small piece into his pocket, crossing his arms firmly, not in an intimidating manner, but just to keep him restrained.
“I’ve missed you, Eds.” You smiled, hand tightening around the top of the towel, covering just above your breasts. He felt his blood rushing, opening his mouth with nothing coming forward.
He reciprocated the longing with a chuckle, soon pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as you swarmed him. It was almost as if you were confining him. But all you had done was take a step closer, pressing your lips against his like he was being sunkissed on a fresh spring day.
“Sweetheart, I need you to say you want this or I need to leave.” He blurted, hating his proposition, but knowing he was far too gone to be around you. His jeans tightened as he bit his lip, feeling your covering skid over his goosebump littered arms. 
“Please.” You whimpered, knocking all the wind from his gut as he grunted, lifting you up to toss you on the bed. 
His kiss was fiery, plush lips tasting your vanilla lip balm, feeling your hands mangle through his curls. His hands went to your towel, ripping it away in a quick swipe, making you gasp at how it ran across your body.
He stood up to remove his clothes, a low growl filling the air as he stared at you. Your breasts still coated in droplets of water, your legs scented like your cotton candy shaving cream, and your pussy on display. 
As his cock sprang free from his boxers, knot forming quickly, you gasped and he could see the way you clenched. The arousal seeped from your desperate hole, not mentally even understanding just how badly you needed this, how much better you’d feel.
Running his fingers through your folds, he leaned on top of you, one knee on the bed for balance. He felt your trembling, hands gripping his shoulders as if that would slow him down, but you didn’t want the motions to cease anyways.
“Want to be your omega.” You cried, his finger swirling around your hole, bringing his digits to his mouth. Somehow, you tasted more divine than before, like a perfect palate made just for him. 
Angling himself, he planted both knees beside you, breathing heavily over your face. A tear or two fell against your cheeks, mouth opened for any form of touch he wanted to give, whether it be lips, fingers, or even just to humiliate you, you wanted to entertain him. To be his starring role, even for the next ten minutes, drawing the curtains until he was ready for the next performance. 
His tip ran through your lower lips, moaning at how you felt, feeling so horny, yet so emotional. He felt like he could cry, how dainty you appeared to him in this moment, and how he just wanted to ruin you. He wanted you to be chanting his name, unable to construct any other thoughts than him. He chuckled, looking down at you with his soft brown eyes that now held something more domineering. 
“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed as you awaited his response, seeing how desperately you wanted to be his omega, he thrusted into you as you cried out, “You already are.”
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hi, thank u for making it to the end, im giving u a forehead kiss.
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euphemiaamillais · 7 months
Text
meadow song — sejanus plinth
cw: 18+//loss of virginity//blowjobs//handjobs (the whole nine yards basically)//semi-public sex//exhibitionism (coryo is watching)//jealous!coryo//reader is a slut for peacekeepers ;)//creampie//mentions of prev. relationship with coryo
when private coriolanus snow, an ex-lover of yours, enlists you to take the virginity of his best friend, sejanus plinth, you take him up on the offer, wanting to give him a birthday present he’ll remember
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when you’d been propositioned by private snow, the more daring and at times flirtatious of the two boys, you’d returned his offer with a look of surprise. to take his fellow peacekeeper’s virginity? you weren’t even sure that his friend had wanted that, but private snow assured you—private plinth was going to be nineteen soon, and it was a gift from his ‘best friend’.
you had slept with private snow once or twice—in fact you’d been the one to pop his cherry—and were in good terms with him. sometimes he’d sneak you some of sejanus’ ma’s food, he seemed to enjoy your company, and because you liked him so much, you’d agreed to be the one to take sejanus’ virginity.
he was a sweet boy, you two had frequently enjoyed conversation at the hob, but part of you was nervous with how to approach him. private snow had invited you to join them in the meadow on their free sunday, and you decided that nothing harmful could come from it.
it was a balmy day, so you were dressed in nothing but a white sundress which scraped just past your knees, and donned a wide-brimmed sun hat that reminded you of what your grandmother used to wear, before the war. you lived in the seam, so the meadow was not too far of a walk, and there was a cool enough breeze that it didn’t feel like heatstroke would strike you down as you made your way to the meadow.
when you arrived, the boys were nestled under the shade of the tree, eating an array of sejanus’ ma’s sweets. you saw there was also a plastic bag—full of ice, coryo’s treat—and a bottle of white liquor. you supposed they’d gotten it the night before at the hob, because half of it had already been downed and the laughter of the two of them indicated they were somewhat inebriated.
‘i hope you two aren’t drunk,’ you greeted them, settling down against one of the rocks.
coriolanus grinned at you, but sejanus could hardly meet your eyes. clearly he was shy about what coryo had planned for him—at least, you assumed that he had been informed about his birthday present.
‘do you want some of ma’s cookies?’ coryo offered you the box, and you took one with a grateful smile.
your stomach had been grumbling since last night—you’d not had enough money to eat today, and were thankful for the delicious sweet treats that ma plinth often baked.
‘thank you, coryo,’ you swallowed it down in one bite, and took another one hungrily.
there was silence for a while, nothing but the sound of jabberjays whistling permeated the balmy air. you were parched, and reached for the bag of ice without asking—you hoped it was a given—piercing the side and letting the cool liquid trickle down your throat.
when you finished drinking and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you noticed sejanus’ dark eyes were on you. you returned his gaze, and his cheeks suddenly pinked before coryo broke the silence.
‘sej, you don’t need to be embarrassed. she’s only here to help,’ coryo said with a laugh, and sejanus cast a gentle nod.
‘if it helps, i really like you sej,’ you moved to settle down next to him, taking his hand in your own.
‘i don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything,’ he begun, bottom lip trembling.
for such a broad and stocky boy, his temperament was overly-tender. something you wouldn’t have expected, had you not know him, but the way the skin around his eyes softened, and how his cheeks crinkled each time he smiled, told a different story.
‘sejanus…’ your lips curved into a smile. ‘i want to.’
‘she knows what she’s doing, sej,’ coryo remarked with a knowing grin.
‘hey, don’t brag, coriolanus,’ you stretched out the syllables of his name teasingly.
you nestled closer against sejanus, feeling the heat radiating between your bodies. he shyly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, while coryo cast a slightly jealous look at the two of you. sejanus couldn't see that though, he only flushed some more, while you pondered upon how you'd walk him through the motions.
he'd probably kissed a few girls before—you figured they knew games like spin the bottle and truth or dare in the capitol—but in every other aspect, according to coriolanus, his friend was completely virginal. you blushed a little, even though you were a well-versed lover, because taking someone's innocence always resulted in a few awkward moments—usually on the boy's behalf. you wanted it to happen as perfectly as it could, particularly because he wasn't just interested in chasing his pleasure like coryo had been.
‘you can kiss me, if you want,’ you murmured softly to sejanus, who took you up on the offer.
though it was hot, you were too determined to give up on your endeavours. you shut your eyes, and felt sejanus press his lips against yours. he was soft, at first, hand moving to clasp your neck, before he deepened the kiss. his mouth was hot, and his tongue slid between your plump lips which were equally as willing.
you could feel coryo’s eyes burning into the two of you—somehow it caused your thighs to tingle a little at the thought of him watching you, and the jealousy that must’ve been raging through his veins. sejanus let out a soft moan as you moved one hand to grip at the nape of his neck, your touch surprisingly cool. your mouths danced as you kissed for a while longer, uncaring that your foreheads were bumping as you began to embrace one another with fervour.
your forehead glistened with sweat as you pulled away, seeing sejanus’ dark eyes deepen with a look of satisfaction. perhaps he wasn’t as shy as you’d thought—he was certainly a very good kisser. the first time coryo had kissed you it had been like he was suffocating and you were his air. sejanus on the other hand, was softer, more delicate and yet at the same time brought a sense of passion to your embrace.
coryo’s gaze was searing as you met his icy eyes. he fiddled with a stick, seemingly carving it with a touch of envy as you moved to sit by either side of sejanus’ thighs. the feeling of your bare legs brushing against his fatigues made his heart thump a little faster, the blood beginning to pool deep in his belly, threatening to rush to his cock.
you moved your hand to creep up his leg, watching his chest heave slightly as you brushed your palm over the growing bulge in his pants. he stifled a groan, but you could see the way his lips curved into a satisfied grin, and continued to tease your hand against his clothed cock.
‘please, don’t tease me,’ sejanus begged, a look of exasperation drawn upon his features.
you cast a brief nod, seeing how riled up he already was. you were inclined to be kinder with him; you'd forgotten that unlike coryo, most men hated the teasing—whereas coryo saw it as a challenge for himself.
sejanus' cock seemed properly hard when you unzipped his pants, and when you slid your hand past the waistband of his boxers, you could feel how he throbbed. a slight whimper left his lips, but he attempted to keep quiet because being reduced to a whining mess in front of his best friend would have led to lifelong mortification. coryo would never let that go.
you began to stroke him gently, and when you pulled his cock fully out of his underwear your eyes widened. while he wasn't as long as coryo, he had more than double the girth. his tip was leaking a little with precum, and the veins that danced down his cock were angrily pulsating.
'you're really a virgin?' you whispered, one brow cocked in surprise. how could a girl say no to him? he was sweet—too sweet at times—handsome, and his cock... well, you counted yourself lucky to be the one to take his virginity. it was almost an honour.
'yeah...' he admitted, cheeks burning a little.
coryo's ears perked up, as he attempted to surmise what you two were discussing, but you kept your voice low, understanding that sejanus wanted to keep this private.
'well, i never would've been able to tell,' you smiled softly, and sejanus' lips flickered into a pleased, almost proud, grin.
'girls back in the capitol... they didn't like how i was from the districts,' he sighed, eyes filling with a look of forlorn.
'well you don't have to worry about that with me,' you pressed a kiss to his cheek, before moving down to work at his achingly hard cock.
you stroked it gently for a minute or two, thumbing the tip and smearing the precum over his thick shaft. sejanus groaned, tossing his head back as your hands worked deftly at him. you decided to go all out—it was his birthday present, after all.
you moved to kneel in the grass, settling yourself between his knees. he looked down at you with anticipatory want, mouth watering at the sight of you before him. eyes wide, tongue darting out as you bent to lick his cock. coryo couldn't see what was going on—and you preferred to keep it that way. if he was jealous it was his own fault; he'd recruited you to take sejanus' virginity. any claim he'd had over you had obviously been ceded with this request.
sejanus groaned as your tongue laved at his sensitive tip, more precum dribbling out. you smiled up at him as you wrapped your lips around his cock, letting your tongue move down the underside of his shaft, brushing against a particularly sensitive vein. one of his hands gently rooted itself in your hair—he'd seen coryo do that enough times—gently playing with it as you began to bob your head up and down.
your lips were stretched around his girthy cock, and you took him as far down as you could, gagging as his tip hit the back of your throat. his breathing was ragged as your tongue danced around his shaft, sticky saliva coating every inch of him. while his girth made it harder to take him, once you hollowed out your cheeks you managed to fill your throat, unlike coryo who made you tear up when he forced himself as far as he could go.
he bucked his hips gently, but when you made a soft gagging sound in response he murmured out an apology. you shook your head—he was so sweet and gentle, such a contrast to the other men you'd had before. it almost made you want to cry.
a little embarrassed at how close he felt, sejanus began to worry that he'd finish in your mouth. you felt him twitching, and removed your mouth, leaning back against your heels. he sighed at the loss of feeling, but was secretly glad that you'd sensed he was getting closer to his release.
on slightly shaky feet, you stood up and moved your legs either side of sejanus. his hands daringly crept up under the hem of your dress, and when his fingers caressed your inner thigh a soft moan escaped your lips. he felt so good—his touch was warm, and in spite of the heat in the meadow that made your head spin, you leaned into his ministrations. one of his fingers brushed across your core unknowingly, and you let out a loud sigh.
coryo's eyes met yours and your face reddened in embarrassment. he'd heard you make that sound half-a-dozen times with him, and now his best friend—his virgin best friend—was eliciting those same content sighs from your lips.
'seems like you know what you're doing, sej,' you remarked, an impish grin painted upon your face.
sejanus laughed, shaking his head. 'no, not really.'
his cock still throbbed pathetically, and his hips rutted a little in an attempt to ease his wanton need. your thighs tingled as he continued to grasp at them, hands managing to lace themselves into the waistband of your panties. sejanus tugged them down with a look of proud surprise, letting them fall to your ankles.
'sejanus,' you said breathily, lowering yourself down against him.
his eyes widened as you sank down on him, your cunt achingly wet as you felt the fat head of his cock stretch you out. your lips stretched around a lustful moan, which was mottled with the sound of his own groan of pleasure.
'fuck...' he cursed, a heavy breath escaping his lips.
you felt so good—so, so good. he didn't know if he could last any longer. shame painted his features as he began to worry about coming in you—imagine that. coryo would never let him live it down.
you let your cunt sink fully around him, feeling his tip poking against your cervix as he filled you to the hilt. he cursed himself for not having done this sooner—he hadn't expected it to feel so amazing, the way you clenched around him, how wet you were. you began to slide up and down, your cunt so slick with want that the sound of it squelching against his cock could be heard even by coryo.
the two of you were panting by this point, sweat clinging to your foreheads, your tendrils of hair sticking to the back of your perspiring neck. you didn't care though, he felt so deliciously good, you were pleasantly full. the veins brushed slightly against your walls, causing your head to loll back a little at the sensation.
'so big,' you panted as sejanus gave his hips an experimental thrust.
when he saw how your eyes rolled back, he moved again, this time with more vigour. your clit was throbbing, but as sejanus continued to buck into you, you lost the want to rub slow circles around it, instead feeling his girthy cock hitting that sensitive spot inside of you.
'i-' sejanus struggled through his words, eyes fluttering shut in exasperation. 'so fucking good, don't know if i can-'
you silenced him with your lips, pressing a hot kiss against his mouth and letting your tongue slide between his wet lips. he moaned into your mouth as you clenched around him again, feeling the beginnings of your own release begin to pool in your cunt.
the pit of your stomach was a tight coil, hot and slowly beginning to unravel with every rut of his hips. you'd never orgasmed before from penetration alone, and certainly never with a virgin. you were slightly shocked at how good his cock was filling you out, the girth more than making up for his average length.
'oh god, sejanus!' you cried out, watching coryo grunt with disbelief. to him, it looked as if you were putting on a show. both you and sejanus knew that it was far from the truth—your legs were trembling as you came closer and closer to your peak.
sejanus felt a rush of confidence mixed with adrenaline and pressed kisses against your neck, lips trailing down to your jugular. he sucked hotly at the skin, teeth dragging along them. you moaned at the tension, and soon enough felt yourself come undone.
wetness gushed from your cunt, coating his cock in a delicious slick that only drove him further over the edge. the way you were clenching was maddening, he looked down for a second to see a milky ring at the base of him, your own want clear on his shaft. he could hardly believe that he'd made you come on his first attempt. perhaps coryo wasn't as good as he thought.
'sej,' you huffed, continuing to ride his cock, edging him towards his own pleasure.
sejanus groaned, hands wrapping around your waist as he thrust his hips into your tight, wet cunt. your head swum from the heat and your body began to tingle from overstimulation, but you continued to let his cock press at your cervix, enjoying how well he was doing. he'd certainly performed better than coriolanus, who finished in thirty seconds when you'd taken his virginity.
'gonna...' he caught his breath, balls tightening for release. 'gonna cum.'
he rose his brows in askance, and you gave a heady nod, delighting at the thought of him filling you up. he was sent over the edge when you clenched around him for a final time, groaning as hot cum spurted into your cunt. it was so sticky, and you continued to sink up and down on his shaft, watching as his own cum trickled back down over his cock.
it was messy, shamefully so, but you couldn't help but giggle at the sensation of his cum slipping out of your cunt. sejanus was in overdrive, and a few whimpers escaped his lips, causing you to grin impishly.
'i hope you liked your present, sejanus,' you murmured against his lips, sliding gently off his cock.
he nodded dumbly, cock beginning to go flacid. there was so much mess on his uniform, but you couldn't help but smirk—everybody would know that he'd finally gotten some play.
'and coryo,' you called out him—he was glowering at you with jealousy as you cleaned yourself up. 'sejanus is better than you ever were.'
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keesdarlin · 9 months
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☆// merry and bright (MDNI, 18+)
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info! 141 + könig + keegan / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader
cw! no CWs
prompt! their favorite christmas/holiday activities
notes! i'm not big on christmas usually, but this seemed cute so i thought i would do a little bit of writing for it. hope you enjoy :]
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KÖNIG
könig's favorite holiday activity is going to see the lights. he'll take driving through the neighborhood in a car if he has to, but he really likes making a whole night out of it. to him, going to see the lights is an entire event. you'll dress up all warm and stop on the way out to grab some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it is you fancy along with some warm snacks. then you'll find a nice neighborhood, probably packed with all the other people who had the same idea as you, and just walk through it. it's a nice way to just get out for a little bit, to bask in the fresh air and that winter chill. a nice excuse for him to spoil you a little bit with some treats and sugar. he keeps a hand on you so that you don't get swept away in the crowd and is ridiculously attentive to you. asks if you want him to go get you more hot cocoa when your cup empties. pulls you closer into his side when you complain about how cold it is. looks at all the displays that you point out and smiles for every picture. it's all very sweet, really. he just loves seeing the way your eyes shine while you're looking at all of the pretty lights.
GAZ
kyle loves taking you present shopping. he mostly likes it because you like it. window shopping, putting so much care and attention into choosing gifts for someone else, trying to figure out what you want for yourself. it's even more fun when you're doing all of the shopping in one place, preferably the mall. it's convenient and lively and full of energy. the lines are kind of a pain, but it's a little bit less annoying when he has you to talk to. he buys you whatever snacks you want while you're shopping. stopping for lunch is the best because that's prime time for people watching. you guys will just sit in the food court while listening to other people's conversations and commenting on them. makes sure that you're as comfortable as possible before you leave the house -- good shoes, comfortable clothes, hair tie on hand just in case you need it. he brings along band-aids in case you end up getting a blister. he also takes note of things that you like. he can't resist getting you a little gift or two to slip you when you're at home later.
SOAP
soap really likes the parties. really he just likes any excuse to see you all dressed up, especially for a party. add in some alcohol and he's having a great time. in his defense, what's not to like about a good party? music, free food, and some scheduled time to hang out with all of your friends, maybe catch up with some people that you haven't seen in a little while. he likes how clingy you get at parties too, all in the spirit of cuffing season and everything. you guys are basically joined at the hip, you either hanging on his arm or his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders or waist, keeping you pulled to his side. he likes the whole deal -- the themes, dressing up, having an excuse to dote on you a little extra, the coziness. he's super down to get lost in the moment of course, but he's always paying attention to you as well. all making sure your cup is full, making sure you have a plate of snacks if you're hungry or a sweater if you're cold, making sure you have someone to dance with if you feel like it. the whole event just gets him going.
GHOST
ghost really enjoys the lazy days that the holidays allow for. he just likes having the time to just exist with you. of course he loves planning dates when your busy schedules allow the both of you to see one another, but that can get a little bit high-pressure from time to time. if you're lucky enough that he's home for the holidays when you also happen to have work off, he really prefers to stay in with you. his favorite part is probably getting to sleep in late with you pulled to his chest. there's no risk of him waking up to an empty bed because you had to run off to work or go buy milk before an appointment or whatever else life throws at you. even if he wakes up before you, he can just hold you to his chest and find comfort in the sound of you breathing (and you can do that same. just listen to the beating of his heart as he sleeps beside you). when you are both finally awake, the morning is still slow to start. you stay in bed for another hour or three and take your time convincing each other to get up and start the day. it's usually simon that caves first, getting up and dragging you out of bed along with him. you both trudge to the kitchen, enjoying the coziness of your little apartment as you make tea and scrape together a lazy breakfast. from there you spend the day in your pajamas, cuddling on the couch and watching movies under a few blankets, dozing off and on, occasionally grazing on snacks.
PRICE
price usually enjoys being in the kitchen with you around the holidays. this usually consists of him being your little helper or leaning against the doorframe and rambling while you cook whatever you've set yourself to. he'll stand with you and make jokes or talk about random stuff while you roll out sheets of cookie dough or work on cooking something for dinner. to keep him occupied you'll assign him ingredients to dig through the cabinets for, really just so that you don't have to do it yourself. he'll probably find it with maximum efficiency too just so that you're not left waiting on him. he hands it to you, waits for you to measure it out, and then puts it back so that you're not losing any counter space either. and he's always bugging you for a taste of whatever you're making whether it's cookie dough or soup or whatever, but especially if it's some kind of sweet treat. if you're making cookies, you can guarantee that he'll sneak one off the cooling rack when you're not looking. would absolutely insist on making the most absurd gingerbread house with you (and would probably end up either painting you with frosting or eating it all).
KEEGAN
i'd like to think that keegan's favorite part of christmas is the snow. anything to do with the snow, really. during the first snow of the season, he drags you out to see it. it doesn't matter if you're working or sleeping or what, but cue keegan shaking you as gently as his stifled excitement can muster to come out and see it. if he's not with you when it finally start snowing, he'll call you and leave a short but sweet message about it. he loves playing in it; it's one of the only times he lets his guard down. loves snow angels, building igloos and snow men, having snowball fights, sledding. the whole nine yards. he just has a blast with it. he also teaches you how to make snow creams when you guys have the time for it (firm believer here that keegan would like his snow creams with chocolate chips). sometimes he'll go outside by himself and just sit in the snow for a little bit or stick his hand in it and feel the way it melts on his palms. it helps ground him, helps clear his head. no matter the case, he's more than happy to be able to share it with you.
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aasouthteranoswife · 9 months
Text
Cartel Princess
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Summary: At night, South runs the streets of Brazil, and during the day, he's a famous MMA fighter who loves his woman but not the brattness that comes with it.
A/N: South is tatted up in this fic, and the reader is small. Dividers by: @benkeibear
Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network
18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warning(s): mentions of drugs, brat taming, daddy kink, blow job,breeding, cum, cursing, no aftercare, p and v penetration, mentions of corruption, established relationship, tattoos, rough sex.
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The past:
During the day, South is a famous MMA fighter, and by night, he's on the streets of Brazil running his well-known cartel "Rio Rocinha."
How you ended up at an MMA fight was your boss had an extra ticket and asked if you wanted to go. Your boss had the likes for you, but you didn't. You just went for the free tickets and food. He was much older than you and wasn't your type.
When you saw the current champion walk into the octagon trying to keep his title. How he moved in the cage, he never missed a punch or kick had you hot between your legs, your eyes stayed locked onto the fight.
He was tattooed from his neck to his hands, down to his ankles, even his large back tattoo got you heated is what set you off was the muscles and tallest. You need him.
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You stood out when South saw you in the crowd, whne he was taking a break feom round one those big beautiful [ insert your color] eyes and long beautiful [color] hair, wearing a skimpy little dress that showed too much. Sitting in the front row in front of the cage he was fighting in.
At the end of his winning match, he came up to you asking your name, where you're from, and if he could have your number. You gave him your number and a little about yourself. All while your jealous boss watched. All you knew about him was his height, age, and that he was still the heavy weight champion.
After you two ended your conversation, your boss walked you to his sports car and took you home for the night as so you thought.
"Y/N L/N I'm gonna have to fire you," your boss says.
"Wait, what, why?" You say anxiously.
"Unless you sleep with me. You can keep your job, and I'll even promote you," he says with a shit eating grin.
"Ew no, I'm not going to that. Let me out now," you screamed while trying to open the car door, but the child locks were on.
"Fine, your fire collect your stuff tomorrow morning from your desk," he says angrily as he stops the car in the middle of the road and unlocks the door.
You hurry out of the car, slamming the car door shut as he sped off in his sports car, leaving you on the side of the road.
You started to cry. When your phone vibrated in your purse, you checked to see who texted you, and it was South. As you walked to the nearest bus stop, you called South, explaining everything that happened.
Fifteen minutes later,
He picked you up and took you home that night. South ended up staying the night as you two talked all night, getting to know each other, and the rest was history
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You dated for a year, and he popped the question that's when South convinced you to move to Brazil, leaving your New York home. You thought taking a risk would be fine.
The thing that you didn't know about him was running a cartel business until you moved to Brazil. You were pissed that he didn't tell you, you two fought for hours until South shut you up by fucking you stupid and all was forgive. He even gifted you a new car and house to start your future with him in Brazil.
The present:
"Minami," you shout from your balcony, looking over your living room, placing your hands on the rail.
Wearing nothing but a yellow lacy thong and a tight white t-shirt that showed your round nipples. As you looked down at your husband, counting his drug money from the previous night, shirtless in grey sweatpants with his signature gold chain around his neck and tattoos on full display, with his right-hand man named Blade and another guy with tattoos all over his face.
South rolled his eyes and stopped what he was doing to look up at what you wanted so badly to have to shout his birth name.
"Put some fucking clothes on," he shouts pointing his finger at you from above. Slamming his money down on the glass coffee table in your living room as he stood up from the soft couch you picked out. He didn't even say, "What's up, babe?" He just shouted at you.
"No, this is my house too South. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want." You say taking your hands off the rail crossing your arms across your chest. As the tattooed face guy said, "Damn" under his breath.
South clinches his fist with rage as a vein in his neck bulges out, "is the so," he says angrily. He releases his balled up fist, cracking his neck while massaging it in the process.
Without any more words, South started walking with long strides heading up the stairs to the balcony you were standing at. He was halfway up the stairs when you registered that he was coming after you.
"Oh shit," is all you said before running to your master bedroom and slamming the door shut.
"Shit, she got it coming for her," Blade says to the tattooed face guy while continuing to count profit.
But not even a minute after the door flies open and slams shut again. South was on your ass. You giggled, running and jumping on your king-size bed, trying to make it to the other side of the bed. But South catches you by your ankle with one of his tattooed hands. Making you fall onto the bed as South pulls you closer to him as you were on your stomach.
South grabs your arm, forcing you to face him. "What did I fucking tell you about talking to me like that in front of my men? Hmm," he says angrily.
"It was a joke, South" you say, waving it off.
South crouches to your level as your only 154cm compared to his 210cm. With his nostrils flaring, he inhales and exhales intertwining his large hands together. As you played with the hem of your panties.
"Open your fucking mouth," he says getting up and pushing his sweatpants down to his muscular tattooed thighs and grabbing your bun in the top of your head.
"What?," you say, playing stupid, but there was no time for before he forced his nine inch cock down your throat making you gag.
You held onto his thighs, digging your manicured nails into his inked skin while kicking your feet on the bed as black mascara tears run down your cheeks.
"Breath through your nose, I'm not letting up," South says, giving your ass harsh slaps, making your skin swell red.
Drool dripped down your chin as South continues to thrust deep into your throat as you looked up at him. He lets go of your hair and pulls out of your throat. You try to catch your breath as South barks an order, "get up." You did as you were told getting on your knees and sitting down.
South grabs the bottom of your white t-shirt and pulls it up and off, throwing it across the room. You grab onto his sweatpants to pull them down more, but his large inked hand wrapping it around your neck, pushing you on your back and forcing your legs open to see the wet patch between your legs.
"Hold your legs open," was all husband said before grabbing you thoug and ripping it off in one go. You start to rub your sensitive clit but South pulls your hand away roughly.
"Good Girls get prepped, bad girls don't," he says, pushing his entire length inside of your heat. Making bit your lip and rolling your eyes back.
"This is what you wanted, huh?" he says, giving your hard nipples a pinch as he starts to thrust in and out of you. All you did was shake your head, yes. Taking the pleasure your husband is giving to you.
"Why didn't you just say so," he says, caging you in between his tattooed arms as you grabbed onto his back as he hit your favorite spot. You loved so much, making you moan loudly.
"There she is, my little bratty princess," he says into your ear and nibbling it as he continues to thrust in and out of you.
"Please," you say.
"Please what" South says
"I wanna cum, please let me cum daddy," moaing out your words.
"My pretty little baby wants to cum," he says moving one of his arms, rubbing circles on your clit making your toes curl, shaking your head as you dug your nails into his back making your legs spread wider for him.
"Go on," he says thrusting faster and deeper making you scream amd shake as you cummed on your husband's cock. As he spilled his seed inside your womb. Grabbing both of your legs to keep them open as he slowly pulls out of you watching the cum drip out of your hole.
"Remember, princess, you always get what you want, just ask," South states, pulling his sweatpants back up and walking out of the room.
South goes back to the living room like nothing happened, counting his money over again after you interrupted his count.
While you laid in bed trying to come down from your high as your husband's cum still leaked out of you and onto the clean bed spread wanting to take a shower.
"What happened up there, boss. You got a nasty cut there?" Blade asks with a smirk. As South looks at the nail marks, you made in his back, bleeding slightly.
"Its part of the territory now shut the fuck up and figure when our next shipment is coming in." He says laying back on the couch, lighting a joint.
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abibliophobiaa · 1 year
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Luna my love, may I ask for Steve and Trembling 💕
18+ oral; f! receiving (2K Words).
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This part had happened before. The slow, languid kisses. Lips, tongues and teeth, ebbing and flowing like waves on the shore. A new couple learning what their partner enjoyed. Learning what sounds meant they liked what the other was doing, what sounds meant to change things up, quicken the tempo, slow down.
Steve’s fingers roamed your sides. The flimsy material of your summer dress pushed up and off ages ago now. Each caress like a gentle breeze spilling in through those gently parted windows of your apartment bedroom. Tucked away from the world, away from peering gazes, away from everyone else. In here, there was only this. Only you two, tangled together as close as two might be.
New as your relationship was, you’d only ventured one another like this. Hands over and under clothes. Fingers curled inside into that place no one has ever reached before, and yours curled around him, dragging praises and curses out of the man. But you hadn’t wandered further.
At least, not until tonight. Not until drive-in movies. Cola tinged tongues twining over a packet of Twizzlers. Where sinfully sweet kisses turned into wandering hands and breathy gasps, before a flashlight had illuminated the back of the BMW and you both were nearly kicked out by an attendant when you’d both maybe gotten a little too carried away.
You’d pulled out of the grassy lot laughing. Cheeks burning from how hard you smiled—how hard you always smiled with him. The boy with his beautiful features, huge heart, and arms that felt more and more like home after every date.
Normally you’d find it alarming how quickly you liked the boy, but Steve Harrington was different. Sunshine in his soul and kindness personified. Sure, he had his frustrated streak when it came to the gaggle of teens who’d jokingly referred to him as ‘Mom’ the first time you’d met them all, but it was bolstered by a love that ran so deeply for them you knew it had been forged in fire.
Which was how you found yourself in your present situation now. Bellies full after rushing to the diner post drive-in movie escape, plate of cheesy fries shared between you, and cheesier smiles on both your faces. In the car you’d felt free and bold, had dragged your fingers along his cock. Squeezed. Watched his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, watched his slow inhales and exhales, relished in the way he choked your name and kicked the car up into a faster speed. And then he’d been on you from the moment you slipped into your apartment, key jimmying the lock shut, your back flush against the door and his mouth igniting you and setting you ablaze like a live wire.
Your mouth now rounded in a sigh, his fingers curled around your back, toying with the band of your bra. His shirt on the floor, your dress beside his, the lacy underwear you wore pressed against the heft of his thigh deliciously in a way that made you crave more, his cock resting hard and heavy somewhere against your hip. Dizzying. Maddeningly so, hot and syrupy, in the way he kissed you. Presses of pressure and peals of pleasure.
“Can I?” His words were a rasp.
Another kiss is pressed to the space between your breasts. Feather soft, sickly sweet. Your nodded consent has him unhooking the back, your bra tossed into the growing heap on the floor, arm coming to rest over your naked chest.
“Hey, hey,” he cooed, rubbing a gentle circle into the inside of your wrist draped over yourself. Kissed your forehead where it wrinkled, as if he’d sensed the nervousness welling in your belly. “You’re so beautiful. You know that, right?”
You’d heard those words before. From other partners, sure. But with Steve, you truly believed them. Tucked his words of affection away into the depths of your heart, little secrets meant only for you two. The man who’d stepped into your life on a whim, after Eddie Munson had introduced you two after a concert for Corroded Coffin. Figured you’d be a match made in heaven. And he’d been right, a truth you can see now staring back at you, reflected in those hazel eyes boring into your soul.
“Thank you, Steve,” you said back, letting your hand fall away, letting your head fall back into the plush pillows beneath as he whispered praises into your skin, hot tongue licking across flesh, laving over your chest. Then lower, and lower still. Trailing across your sternum, kissing along the soft of your stomach. Nipping at your hips until you giggled, until you glanced down at him, his body half off the bed, brushing gentle kisses to the insides of your thighs, his intent dropping like lead into your stomach.
“Oh, you don’t…I mean…no one really—”
His head peered up from between your thighs, paused in his ministrations along your skin. You barely had a moment to speak before he was crawling up by your face again, one elbow pressed into the mattress beside your head, the over curled over your cheek, his nose nudging yours sweetly. “Has no one…?”
Hating the way your cheeks burned from embarrassment, you tucked your face into his collarbone, his bare chest flush against yours, one of his arms curled around your shoulders to keep you nestled close. As his fingers traced comforting lines into your skin, you finally replied, but it came out muffled against his skin.
His chest leaped with his laughter. “Baby, were those even words?”
“Maybe,” you mumbled, nuzzling his skin with your forehead. “But if you must know…no, no one has…done that. Don’t laugh. I feel like you’re judging me right now.”
He froze at that. Body stiffened beneath yours, leaning back just enough so you could catch the downturn of his lips. The way those hazel eyes darkened a bit, still hazy in his lust, but tinged with another emotion you couldn’t quite place a name to.
“Not judging you,” he promised, tipping your chin up to kiss your lips gently. “Just all the idiots who came before.”
“Oh,” you squeaked out, trying to hide again, but he cupped your cheeks in his palms.
“You are so beautiful. Every inch of you. Do you trust me?” he asked, forehead resting against yours.
“I do.”
He unraveled himself from your arms. Arms still bracketing your head as you finally laid back against the bed beneath him, his flush against yours, one thigh between yours. Heart racketing in your chest, you closed your eyes, smiling to yourself as the man leaned down and kissed you once more before making his way back down your body.
A kiss on your collar bone. The curve of your breast. A teasing lip against the skin there that had your sides jolting, his laughter lyrical in your ears. Another to your abdomen, the curve of your hip. Fingers pressing into the swell of your hips, adoring the flesh of your thighs as he parted them to make room for himself between them. Every nerve ending felt alive. The swift rise and fall of your chest apparent as he reached the hemline of your panties, finger rubbing a slow circle over your clothed clit that had you turning your head into your pillow to muffle your moan.
“Sweetheart,” he said, pulling you from your wayward thoughts. Your distracted thoughts, hyper aware of every inch of you about to be on display for the boy.
You lifted yourself up onto your elbows, grinning widely as he leaned up and claimed your mouth with his.
“I love—” another kiss, “every damn sound you make—” another kiss against the curve of your throat this time, making your head fuzzy, “it’s just us here, okay? No need to hold back with me, baby.”
It was enough to calm your nerves. Heart still hammering away, but the reminder of his words ruled out. Pushing the pillow away, you sighed as his careful fingers toyed with the little bow on the front of your underwear, head tipping up enough to watch the way he slowly, so slowly, pulled them down your thighs and dropped them onto the ground beside him.
Like this he could drop his knees down onto the floor and pull you against him, and he did, dragging one of your thighs over his shoulder in the process. Kissed the inside of an ankle and grinned as you shuddered bodily in his arms, before skimming up higher and higher, leaving scorching marks in his dangerous wake.
“Oh, honey,” he sighed, and to your ears it sounded like a plea—or a prayer. Thick fingers glided through your slick, dragging a familiar path from your center to your clit, watching your reactions. The curl of your toes, the way your heels dug into his shoulders, the pinch of your eyes flush against your cheeks. This, with him, you knew. “Wanna kiss you here. You’re so pretty. Can I?”
As soon as you nod, you finally understand why your friends had raved about this after one too many drinks during girl’s nights. The way Steve’s fingers are replaced by his tongue. Warm and wet, parting you for him. Curling over that part of you that has your back arching up off the mattress, fingers clenching in messy locks of hair on his head, cheeks heating when you realize you might have pulled a little too hard.
“Pull harder,” he reassured, as if he knew. And it’s enough to have you brave enough to do so, chest heaving, whimpering beneath him, hips writhing against the place where he worships between parted thighs.
Steve was always handsome. Had been that first night at the bar, draped over the table, arms on display. Wearing those too-tight jeans that always left little to the imagination and a shirt stretched over a broad chest and wide shoulders. But like this? One hand curled around your legs, his other joining his tongue and sliding two fingers into you, fingertips turning white against your flesh where he clutched at your skin to keep you spread for him, doing things you’d never dreamed of, plucking moans from you like one would play an instrument? Diabolical.
“Steve, I’m gonna—”
You’d never before. Not like this. This dizzying free fall. The sudden snap, and then the white flash behind your eyes as you cried his name into your bedroom. As he continued to pump his fingers into you through it, whispering words of adoration into your skin.
And then he was kissing you, arm curling around the back of your head, your taste lingering on the tongue that glided over your own. “Good?” he asked.
“Good?” You laughed against his shoulder, incredulous. “Pretty sure I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“Is that so?” He smirked.
“Don’t get too big a head now,” you teased, your hips rocking up into his, drawing a groan out of his throat.
“Yeah?”
“Never been so sure.”
Before long, you’d shoved down his boxers and he flashed a bright smile as you rolled over him, still trembling thighs on either side of his hips, a little breathless but feeling brazen. A packet was pulled from a bedside drawer and Steve hurriedly readied himself, asking if you were ready. To which you nodded, kissing his lips, fingers twining through his against your bedspread.
Then finally, that kiss turning into a breathless gasp as you sank down onto him, heart full.
——
——
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360iris · 1 year
Text
not quite learned | professor!miguel o’hara x reader
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2k+ word count. small content warning that it is a student/teacher relationship fic, so feel free to skip this one if that’s not your thing. 18+ afab!m/c.
haven’t written, or been insanely active in the fandom, in a good two months maybe? trying to get out of that, hope this is enjoyable to someone <3
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Only one thing is for certain, Miguel didn’t intend for things to go this far. But during a brief moment of reflection, he supposes none of the men like him ever really do.
The opportunity arises, and because he’s weak, fundamentally weak to your doe-like eyes, sweet voice and gentle affection— he gives into his impulses, willingly falls victim to his circumstances.
He hadn’t known that you would be so addictive, that once he gave in, there wouldn’t be another point at which he could regain his sane and working mind.
You were in his last class of the day, and as was your purely studious custom, you stayed after to ask whatever burning academic questions were plaguing you that day.
In the dark recesses of his thoughts, as he looked you over with a purposefully disinterested dark stare, he privately referred to your choice of presentation as obscenely feminine.
Especially with how you were dressed now— in a thin and lacey, thigh-length dress. Your ears and collarbones decorated with delicate silver jewelry and the tiniest, fucking light pink ribbons wrapped at the ends of two, neat plaits of hair.
He was close to rolling his eyes at that last detail. Finding himself desperately wanting to hate you for making his days significantly more difficult, with just the addition of your presence alone. And if not for the fact that you were always so sweet to him— never failing to brighten his day with your way always approached with an enthusiastically cheerful, “Hey, Miguel!”, he would have successfully manifested, and actively nurtured a deep hatred for you.
Instead, as you ask for pointers on how to proceed with your essay, he sighs deeply and gives an acquiescent nod. “Let me see what you’ve written so far.” He answers in a bored huff, ignoring the way you smile appreciatively at him, before promptly turning on your heel to retrieve your laptop.
You’d set your bag down in one of the front seats of the classroom, and as you bend over the small desk surface to pull open the zipper, Miguel’s eyes are fixed on the way your dress hikes up. And for just a brief moment, the backs of your creamy thighs are exposed to him. He can’t help but take the time to stare, catching a rare glimpse of a part of you he wouldn’t otherwise get to see.
Tearing his eyes away just as you free your computer, he swallows thickly as he watches you approach.
Setting the device in front of him, you choose to stand beside where he currently sat at his desk, leaning forward as you scrolled through the draft of your written assignment.
His mouth and brain were operating separately, delivering level headed advice on one end while focusing on all things concerning you on the other.
He couldn’t care less about the assignment. The older man quickly found that he was more than willing to give you full marks and be done with it, if it meant he could center in on how smooth your skin looked, or how pink your lips were and whether you smelled more like vanilla, or lotus and warmed honey.
During the fifteen minutes he’d spent giving you small pointers on how to push your essay in the right direction, he remained on his best behavior, not once straying off topic or letting his desires get the best of him.
You’d thanked him softly, beginning to put away your laptop and he’d almost patted himself on the back for making it through the interaction when you suddenly pulled a small glass container from your bag.
It held cookies— vanilla something or another, that you had made especially for him, as thanks for his patience with you so far. A supply of patience that seemed to evaporate the second you displayed the baked treats in front of him.
He doesn’t really know what happened next, how A got to B is still a mystery to him, but before he knew it the container of cookies and your bag lay strewn and long forgotten on the floor.
You were so tiny compared to him, his left hand capable of not only cupping your chin but the entire lower half of your face, easily squeezing your cheeks and lips together in the snug hold he has on you.
Miguel didn’t think this far ahead— doesn’t know what possessed him to clear the distance in three or less steps and have you locked in his grasp. But the way you look up at him, not in fear, but quiet anticipation has him considering that perhaps it’d be okay to test the waters further.
“Mr. O’Hara?” Your voice comes out small as you blink up at him, as though there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you were entirely innocent. And in that moment, he couldn't help it, he had to laugh right in your face.
It’s the first time you’ve ever heard or seen him appear anywhere remotely near amused, that it would’ve left you unsettled even if the notes didn’t fall flat. The sound of his ‘laughter’ coming across as sardonic and wholly mocking, the ‘mirth’ he apparently felt not quite reaching his eyes.
“Mr. O’Hara?” He repeats quietly, a dark smirk twinging his lips. As the seconds ticked by, you were starting to feel more and more like a butterfly caught in his web. “What happened to Miguel?”
You merely look up at him, a bit lost for words as he greedily eyes your form.
“You know- just while we’re on the subject, I never gave you explicit permission to call me by my first name. You started that on your own.” He hums, voice even and quiet. “It’s the same way I never explicitly told you that I was free after class… Do you know why that is? Do you have a guess?”
“No?” He asks rhetorically, shaking your head for you when you don’t immediately answer, Miguel leaning down to allow his lips to ghost your ear. “It’s because these aren’t my office hours, mi reinita. That’s what you are, you know. A little queen. That’s exactly how you act, calling me by my first name… taking up my time when you want it. When it suits you.”
“I’m sorry, M-“ You begin apologizing before his hand cupping your face suddenly tightens, not enough to hurt, but just enough to stop you from speaking.
“No quiero disculpas.” He says dismissively, waving you off with his free hand. His speech was quiet, each sentence perfectly enunciated, teasing almost. “Words don’t mean much, actions are everything. Like the cookies you made for me, that’s cute but… I don’t want cookies either.”
His free hand comes to rest on your hip, large and warm as it traces the outline of your waist.
“What do you think?” He asks, his voice soft but his tone coming across as a touch condescending. “Think you can make up for your bad behavior some other way?”
You nod feebly in reply, though the gesture doesn’t seem enough for him as he loosens his grip on your face. “Say it.” He orders evenly.
Your lips part, sucking in a shaky breath as you struggle to maintain eye contact. He was intimidating like this, towering over you, fully caging you in. “I wanna make up for my bad behavior, Mr. O’Hara.”
And it appears to do the trick, because his eyes darken and his jaw ticked as he looked down at you like he was seconds away from devouring a meal whole.
“Dicho como una niña buena.” He replies quietly, lids low. His face was so close to yours, air fanned your cheeks as he spoke. “Is that what you’re gonna be for me, mi reinita? Are you going to be a good girl?”
“Yes, sir.” You answer, voice barely above a whisper.
“Typically, I’d want to keep my eyes on your face but—“ He trails off, turning you in the opposite direction before you feel him place a hand at your back, wordlessly instructing you to lean forward until your torso is lying flush against the front row desk. “It’s not everyday that I get to see this end of you.”
Face hovering over the table with your hands laid flat against its surface, you attempt to focus on your breathing, trying your best not to fidget in place as he lifts the hem of your dress until your ass is on full display.
Miguel lets out a low whistle as he registers the lace cream thong you’re fitted in, his eyes drifting up the length of your body. “You’re a little naughty underneath too, aren’t you?”
“Maybe just… a bit prepared.” You answer quietly, cheek pressing into the desk as you look back at him over your left shoulder. And Miguel is finding that it’s harder and harder to think as more and more blood is redirected from his brain to somewhere more easily excitable.
“Walking around campus ready to be bent over, hm?” He asks, not expecting an answer as he runs his finger underneath the strap of the waistband. “All the pink ribbons and lace is just a distraction, isn’t it? Otherwise people would know what you really want.”
“What is it that I want, Professor?” You ask innocently, playing the part of being just a touch naive, your bottom wiggling the smallest amount as you attempt to discreetly ease the slowly growing ache between your thighs.
If Miguel catches the movement, he doesn’t comment on it.
Brushing the pads of his fingers against your chubby folds, he prods at your entrance through the small area of fabric, not covering much of anything, experimentally. Pressing inside and allowing the pitiful excuse for underwear to go along with his digits.
“The same thing I want.” He answers simply, his poker face unreadable as you whimper at the odd but gratifying sensation he briefly grants you.
You watch in awe as he pulls the fabric aside, licking a wide strip along his middle and ring fingers, rubbing his slick digits at your cunt before dipping them inside of you.
Your mouth parts as he stretches you open, unceremoniously making room for himself in that warm and welcoming place between your legs.
“Mhm, that’s it…” He hums appraisingly as the slip and slide of his fingers gradually becomes increasingly easier as he massages your spongy walls.
Hooking his fingers inside of you, his wrist jostles about, causing your voice to slip out despite yourself as his pace increases. Your feet begin to lift off the floor from how spirited his ministrations become. Miguel’s hand glistening with your arousal, small droplets dripping from his skin and onto the dark carpeted flooring.
It becomes clear that you’re fighting a losing battle in the way the more you try to contain your voice, the harder he seems to work at getting you to audibly cry out despite the space the two of you are occupying.
“What are you holding back for?” He asks, as though he doesn’t know.
“B- because…” You protest in a high pitched shriek, clasping one of your hands to your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the desk to anchor yourself from how hard he’s fucking his fingers into you.
Leaning forward, Miguel playfully nips at your ear, the older man chuckling mischievously at how affected you are by him before he whispers, “Let me hear you.”
You frantically shake your head no, tears brimming in your eyes as your climax approaches.
Sure, you’d had fantasies about something like this occurring between the two of you— but never in a million years had you thought that you’d be pressed into the same desk you stressed about studying for your midterm at, minutes away from cumming on his fingers.
“Can’t, can’t.” You whine, your cries muffled against your palm as he shushes you.
“None of that,” He replies calmly, increasing his speed. “No more whining, niña preciosa. Just let go for me. You said you’d make it up to me, didn’t you?”
You nod weakly, lost in the way he’s making you feel. Lost in how lulling his voice is when he wants it to be.
“Then make it up to me.” He coos soothingly against your neck. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
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