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smut-anarchy · 1 month ago

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Own Me - Chapter Four

Tags: Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail, Anxiety!Reader, Dubious Consent, Spanking, Language, M**blood Slur

Word Count: 4,187 Words

Chapter Four: Reaping Rewards... And Punishments Too

How did my life turn into this?

After kissing you stupid in the broom closet Mattheo only interacted with you during classes. You were thankful for the break from him, your neurons still fried from his amazingly wicked lips. You felt lost, there was the part of you with hatred for his arrogance and the manipulation he’s put you through. But smaller, growing part of you was feeling the sweltering heat of lust, an ache not only wanting a repeat of the kiss but even more than that.

You’d only shared two other kisses in your time at Hogwarts, one an extremely awkward moment between you and Neville Longbottom during a game of truth or dare in your third year. Needless to say, it had been nothing you were interested in repeating with the fellow Gryffindor, and it took a year and a half for Neville to make eye contact with you again. The other had been a simple cheek kiss from Harry after giving him some valuable information you’d known of the Hungarian Horntail dragon he was set to face during the Triwizard Tournament in your fourth year, and though pleasant it hardly awakened any feelings inside you the way Mattheo had with his teeth and tongue.

On Friday night, your owl, a barn owl you affectionally named Hootie-Pie, flew into your room with a black paper bag and a green envelope. Softly petting her soft feathers and cooing a thanks to her you accepted the bag, tearing open the letter immediately.

Halloween party tomorrow - 7PM. You’re serving drinks, Kitten.

Part one of your punishment is in the bag.

M.R.

You felt your stomach plummet, terrified of what punishment could be in the bag. To your horror it was a black velvet strapless bodysuit with matching elbow length gloves, a cat-eared headband, a cat tail attachment and a chunky collar with a comically huge bell and large green tag that said ‘Kitty’. You didn’t know where Mattheo could even get something this tacky or racy, but you were pissed.

Your rage only grew further when you’d slipped the costume on an hour before the party, that fucker had charmed the ears and tail to twitch and sway like a real cat, the movements being attuned to your mood.

This was only part one of your punishment, so the logical part of your brain pleaded with you to behave tonight. You often had to remind yourself that Mattheo held your future in his cruel hands while you dressed in the costume, only adjusting it to add some long black thigh high stockings to give you a semblance of covering.

You’d worn your robes down to the Slytherin common room, not willing to risk being caught by a professor or Filch in such an indecent costume. When you got close enough you saw Theo leaning casually against the wall, a mischievous glint in his eyes upon seeing you.

“Piccola leonessa, I’ve been asked to retrieve you this fine evening.” He greeted, doing a small bow in front of you. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the ridiculous image of the tall boy bowing to you, his joke slightly setting your nerves at ease.

“Such a gentleman, Nott.” You grinned, “Maybe I got stuck with the wrong Slytherin.” He chuckled, his eyes dropping to look you over.

“I wouldn’t say that too soon Piccolina. The robes, I’ve been told to take them from you.” He held his hand out expectantly, giving you a playful lopsided grin. You scowled back at him, but nonetheless shrugged off the fabric providing you coverage and dropped it into his awaiting hand. You refused to let any shame grow under his inspecting eyes, straightening yourself and sliding your hand to your hip in a challenging pose.

Theo let his eyes wander over your figure shamelessly, a whistle coming out of his mouth as he stared appreciatively, “Merda, you look good enough to eat.”

Theo’s reaction was definitely a confidence booster; You felt weirdly naked without one of your chunky sweaters, not used to showing as much skin as you were. Still, you steeled yourself, embracing the boldness within so you could get through this night.

“Thank you, Nott, though I can hardly take credit. Mattheo picked it out.” You mused, growing more brazen under Theo’s gaze.

“Remind me the thank him then.” He mumbled, his eyes finally reaching back to yours, the steel grey orbs filled with heat.

“Not that I mind the attention but don’t you and your little friends have a rule about mixing with mudbloods, Nott?” You wondered aloud. Since you and Draco’s little tiff the question has been on your mind, as long as you’d been serving Mattheo no one else had elected to use the word to you or in front of you.

“The only one that cares is Draco,” Theo chucked, “And that’s mostly because he can’t handle that he wants to fuck Granger but has to settle for Parkinson. The rest of us enjoy our muggle relations studies from time to time.” Your mouth dropped open in shock.

Oh Godric, I can’t believe Luna was right!

“You bunch of sluts!” You’d gaped, the information far too mind blowing for your brain. Theo laughed, amused by your astonishment.

“Well then,” He cleared his throat, “Shall we, piccola?” He outstretched his arm to you. You rolled your eyes, but looped your own through his. He spoke the password and the door appeared, Theo accompanying you down the stairs.

“So be honest,” You started, “Am I the only one in costume?” Theo wasn’t wearing one, if you were you going to have to fight embarrassment all night long.

“No, everyone is wearing a costume.” Theo answered, his voice betraying his laughing smile.

“But you aren’t wearing one.”

“I have a mask, I’ll put it on later.” You nodded. The closer you got to the common room the more your nerves started to rile up in your body. Theo, somehow sensing your unease, stopped right before the opening.

“A word of advice, leonessa?” Theo offered. You shook your head at him, with the bundle of nerves in your stomach you’d take any advice.

“Behave tonight. Make him happy and he’ll reward you.”

Your face scrunched up at the thought, making Mattheo happy seemed impossible, there was no telling what the unpredictable boy wanted from you. However, the prospect of a reward was enticing, you looked at Theo with curiosity, lips ready to ask questions. The Slytherin must have anticipated this, ushering you into the full common room with an impish grin.

You followed Theo through the throng of people, the seemingly endless waves of people parting for him with ease. He led you to the couches in the middle of the room where the group had set up for the night. Enzo, dressed as a pirate, was filling up two fire whiskey shots. Next to him was Blaise, who opted for his quidditch Jersey over a traditional costume. Across for them sat a bored looking Draco, a silver crown atop his head and a green fur cape around his shoulders, across his lap was a laughing Pansy Parkinson, matching his price costume with a princess costume of her own.

Between the couches, lounging on a green armchair was Mattheo, a white button down shirt with splatters of red stretched across his lithe and muscular torso, a red tie loosely around his neck. When he noticed you and Theo he smiled, revealing two fanged teeth.

He’s a bloodsucker alright.

“Well, don’t you look fucking bitable, Kitten.” He welcomed. His voice broke Blaise and Enzo from their discussion, their eyes landing on you.

“Holy shit!” Enzo gasped, his eyes rapidly roaming over your costume. Blaise nodded in agreement, looking over you with subtle interest.

You felt your body warming in a flush, their attention and appreciative looks making you feel bashful. You forced yourself to walk with confidence, nodding greetings at everyone, even Draco and Pansy who elected to huff and turn their noses away at you.

“I’m glad you like it sir, thank you so much for picking it out.” Mattheo’s dark orbs gleamed in satisfaction. Theo’s words echoed in your mind — behave tonight, get a reward.

Though the other boys eyes had wandered on your body, taking in your formally hidden curves and skin, it hadn’t sent chills over you the way Mattheo’s was. Mattheo’s gaze slowly crawled up your body, from your heels to your faux ears, his observing, dark irises licking lustful paths of heat on every inch of your skin.

“You’re being so good today, Kitten.” Mattheo praised, his approval sending a spark of yearning into your gut.

Merlin, if he complimented you like this all the time you’d be a gooey mess.

“You wanted me to serve drinks?” You questioned, hoping to get away from his eyes and the seductive powers they held over you.

Mattheo nodded, pointing at a little alcove to the left where stockpiles of alcohol sat. “Do a couple laps and then come right back here. I’ll be paying attention so no funny business tonight.”

You chirped out a cheerful, ‘yes sir!’ and skittered to the table, filling a nearby tray full of as many shots as you could carry. Your eyes were on the prize of whatever kind of reward Theo hinted at, so you’d smiled at everyone, offering them a drink. Most of the partygoers didn’t recognize you, which was made apparent the more you’d walked around. Many of the pureblood supremacist students accepting drinks with thankful nods or lustful comments towards you. Still, you ignored everything, taking it all in stride and making several loops around the room until most of the bottles had emptied.

When you figured Mattheo would be happy with your work, you weaved your way through the bodies back to the couch area. Breaking past the crowd of people you’d found him, though it was no longer only the usual group surrounding him. Leaned over his chair with her polished claws gripping the armrest was Daphne Greengrass in a fucking angel costume.

Yeah fucking right, if she’s an angel I’d rather be in hell.

Mattheo looked as bored as Draco did, though Draco was at least partially entertaining Pansy with a few words here and there for the gossiping Slytherin girl. Mattheo looked as if he was completely ignoring the girl, his eyes searching the crowd.

When he saw you approaching his smile appeared, face alight in interest. “There you are Kitten, you did so good tonight. I’m almost impressed.” You couldn’t help but preen under the compliment, a slight blush finding its way to your cheeks.

Godric, if he keeps this up this might not be so bad.

“What are you doing here lion, wander into the snake den on accident?” Daphne’s voice cackled, her face contorted with malice. You could feel your temper rising, the fangs of your anger ready to tear into the girl.

“I’m doing Mattheo a favor tonight.” You curtly responded, your voice holding a chill to withhold the animosity buried in your throat. Daphne looked between you and Mattheo, eyes darting trying to make sense of the scenario no one in the castle outside of Mattheo and his closest friends seemed to be privy to. Another one of her shrill laughs burst out of her.

“So the rumors are true! Riddle is slumming it with a mudblood! Mattheo, baby, you don’t need her, I can give you everything and more.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, making you want to retch. Her implication that Mattheo was ‘slumming it’ with you made you seethe in annoyance, as if you’d be here if it wasn’t for her!

“Nice costume, I wasn’t aware you could dress up as a pigeon.” You growled, your eyes rolling at her desperate attempts of seducing Mattheo. The boy in question seemed amused by you, his attention away from the Slytherin girl. This drove Daphne mad, the boy of her affections seemingly discarding her for what she believed to be an inferior witch.

“Excuse me? I’m an angel, you mangy cat.”

You strode over, now directly in front of her and Mattheo. “Oh my mistake, my second guess was going to be Buckbeak’s ugly sister.” You snarled. Behind Daphne you heard Enzo and Blaise snort, Theo’s soft chuckling next to them.

Buckbeak, forgive me for using your name to roast this bitch.

“Kitten, heel.” Mattheo’s deep voice cut through the rising friction between you and Daphne. He pat the arm of his chair and you followed the silent command to sit down on it, still choosing to glare a Daphne.

“Oh, I understand,” Daphne fumed, “She’s a little fucking pet for you.” Daphne’s smugness seeped out of her every pore, her hurt pride fueling her foul words. “What would your father think?”

Though the party was still going on at full force, the bubble you were in was stilled to the point you could hear a pin drop. Draco’s gasp and Theo’s ‘oh no’ was distantly registered, though you couldn’t take your eyes off Mattheo, his entire body shaking in fury, his muscles tensed and jaw tightened.

You almost fell off the arm of the chair with how fast he stood up, his face set into a menacing glower, the veins of his neck straining under his skin. “You don’t get to say shit about my fucking father. Get the fuck out of here.”

Daphne sputtered, attempting to take back what she said but Mattheo only sat back down and glared up at her, eyes daring her to stay and test his wrath further. In an attempt at saving face she backed away a bit, before settling her eyes on you.

“You’re just a pet Lion, you’ll never be worth anything to him.” She snapped. This time you were prepared for Mattheo’s wrath, settling a hand softly on his chest to keep him from storming over to her. You don’t know what came over you, but you kept your hand on his chest, sliding down the arm of the chair to settle right in his lap. His raging, fevered skin seeping through his clothes, warming you instantly. If he had not been such a ticking bomb right now his warmth would be almost comfortable for your state of undress.

“You’re right,” You admitted, her face briefly quirked smugly, “But that’s still more than you’ll ever be.”

Daphne scoffed, scowling and stomping away muttering a string of unkind curses under her breath.

“Gods, I hate her.” You released, looking at Mattheo. His amber irises darkened, resembling hot coals. His eyes bore into yours, behind them flickered something you couldn’t identify, but as fast as it came it went and was replaced my a mischievous glint.

“C’mon you troublemaker.” His gruff voice demanded. Without any further word he scooped you up in his arms and threw you over his shoulder.

You squealed, arms smacking his back as he walked away from his laughing friends, Enzo cheering loudly.

“Mattheo put me down! This is embarrassing!”

“Don’t make things worse for yourself, Kitten. You’re already in trouble.” You slumped on his shoulder, surrendering under the promising threat in his voice. You sighed grumpily, frustrated that you’d no longer receive the reward you’d been aiming for now.

Damn it all! It was going so good until that bitch showed up!

Mattheo took you to what you assumed was his dorm, kicking the door closed and tossing you on the solitary large bed in the room. Like you, it looked like Mattheo had no roommates. You wanted to look around and be nosy, curious about the things Mattheo would have in his room, but your curiosity was shattered after hearing Mattheo place silencing charm on the room.

“You can be so mouthy, you know that?” Mattheo asked sardonically, “I wonder if it’s a habit you’re ever going to break.”

“She deserved it though…” you’d argued weakly, not sure if putting up a fight would be worth it at this point now that you’re alone with the unpredictable boy.

Mattheo hummed in agreement, slipping his tie from around his neck. The motion chilled you, you were alone in his room and he was undressing. A stone of panic settled in your gut, your eyes flickering everywhere but him and hands fidgeting into the soft sheets under you.

You were a virgin, you can’t do this.

“Stand up Kitten.” On shaky legs you followed the command, your body tingling with waves of anxiety. He took your place on the bed, sitting down on the edge and stretching his long legs out. He motioned for you to stand between them and you hesitantly did.

He pulled you closer by your hips, causing your breath to hitch, his warm large hands summoning terribly dirty images to your mind. His eyes raked over you, inspecting every inch of skin available to his greedy orbs.

“Fucking hell, Kitten. You look damn good like this.” His deep voiced rumbled, sending heat straight to your stomach.

“Mattheo,” you breathed, your voice coming out like a sigh, “I-I can’t — I mean…” You stumbled over your words, choking on a mix of lust and anxiety gathered in your throat.

“Did you think I was going to fuck you, Kitten?”

All of the air left your lungs, your heart pounding in your chest like a bludger, every thump cracking against your ribs and reverberating throughout your bones. Your face flamed up in a blush, you chewed on your plump bottom lip, nodding wordlessly.

“Don’t worry Kitten, your virginity is safe,” He cooed, his eyes betraying the sweet tone of his words with a mischievous twinkle, “Though I’m afraid everything else is mine.” He punctuated that wicked sentence by sliding his hands from your waist to cup your perky, round bottom.

You slipped out a gasp as his fingers groped and squeezed your backside, the sensation igniting desire that rippled through your entire being. “H-how?” You released, utterly breathless by his hands again.

“It’s simple,” He chuckled, his mouth curved into a teasing smile, “Your face and body say it all. You act like every time is the first time anyone’s touched you. You’re stupidly easy to read, Kitten.” He pinched your butt cheek, causing your breath to stutter out of you.

“Tonight is part two of your punishment. I’m going to bend you over my knee, you get five spanks for breaking Malfoy’s nose and five for taunting Greengrass tonight. Then you’ll leave this room, your ass red with my handprints, understand?” His voice drawled sadistically, his fingers still stroking the soft skin of your ass.

“I didn’t taunt her! She started it!” You argued.

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, removing his hands from you completely. You hadn’t realized until he removed them how warm they were on your cool skin, your brain yearning to call them back to touch your icy skin. “Then what was all that at the end? Sliding into my lap? Face it, Kitten, you were claiming me.”

You shook your head, mouth opening and closing trying to protest his absurd statement. Of course Mattheo wasn’t yours, you’d only done that because Daphne was being a bitch. You weren’t jealous, you couldn’t be, you had no right to be. Anything between you and Mattheo was strictly contractual, born out of your stupid decision to climb into a magical vase and break it. No, you told yourself, there was no way Mattheo was right, if it had been any other girl it wouldn’t have mattered, Daphne was just an evil bitch that needed to be taken down a peg, and you were fit to give it to her that’s all.

“Regardless, Kitten,” he interrupted your boundless thoughts, “That’s your punishment. If you take them like a good girl, I’ll give you a reward.”

Your body vibrated with nervous energy, Mattheo patting his knee with a smirk on his face. You braced yourself before gently lowering yourself over his lap, your stomach flush with his muscular thighs. He trailed his hand down your spine, eliciting shivers throughout you, before he settled on your plump ass.

“You’re going to count each one Kitten, you stop we start over.”

You inhaled a deep breath, stuttering out a small agreement. His fingers traced the edges of the fabric bodysuit you wore, sliding it further to one side to fully expose your cheek to him. The air was charged with electricity, the tightness waiting to break upon Mattheo’s movements, you held your breath in anticipation.

He brought his hand down sharply, the sound echoing throughout the room. Out of instinct, your hips bucked in his lap, a mix of pain and pleasure flooding you.

“One.” you whispered, Mattheo let out a hum of approval.

His hand cracked down on you again, harder than the last time, the sting making you cry out.

“Two.” You whined, your voice growing more soft. His hand lightly caressed the skin he’d just smacked, the featherlight touches juxtaposed against the stinging skin. Three consecutive slaps met your ass, each one harder than the last, and you crying out to count out each one. The burn of the five spanks was intense, the throbbing ache lingering on your skin where it would likely remain for days after this.

“So good, Kitten. You’re halfway done.” Mattheo praised, his voice slightly breathless. He slid the bodysuit’s hem from your other cheek. A part of you was relieved that no more would come down on your already blushed cheek, another part of you was mortified at having both sides of your ass be a matching shade of red.

You shifted in his lap, though the slight movement was enough to have you notice a familiar wetness building between your legs. You hung your face, cowering in embarrassment that you were starting to like this.

A sharp whack rang throughout the room, his assault on the uncolored side of your ass beginning.

“Six.” You huffed, breathing heavily as the impact of his hand seemed to cup the entire fleshy mound of your ass.

Another one. Another count from your breathy voice.

“You know,” He mused, the deep timbre of voice murmured, “You should have seen the looks you got. I think everyone’s eyes were on you, Kitten.”

Thwack.

“Eight.”

“You know, I think even Theo and Enzo were looking at you.”

Thwack.

“Nine!” You moaned, the wetness between your legs no longer a small growing amount but rather proudly collected in your sex that you felt with every movement and spank. You vaguely registered what he’d said, deciding to file it away for later, too caught up in the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Maybe I should call them in here, so they can see how well you take your punishment.”

Thwack!

The final slap on your cheek leaving an exploding quake on the abused skin, your piercing shriek calling out the final number. Tears were welled up in your eyes in shame but drool pooled in your mouth from pleasure, you forced yourself to swallow before he could see.

Mattheo scooped you up and let you lay on his bed. The soft sheets bringing no comfort to your stricken ass, your fingers lightly prodding the tender skin. You squirmed, your breath coming out in shaky gasps as you tried to soothe yourself from the rough and arousing treatment.

“You did such a good job, Kitten.” Mattheo soothed, his hands softly stroking the fiery skin. “Would you like your reward now?”

You nodded, sitting up expectantly. Mattheo brought out his wand pointing it at your necklace, mumbling an incantation you didn’t recognize. When he finished he tossed his wand somewhere in his messy room.

“Now you have fifteen minutes instead of five to come when I call you.”

Relief filled your chest, you fought the urge to hug him, instead choosing to smile softly. “Thanks.” You uttered, somehow this felt more intimate than what you’d been doing before, even though your ass was burning in protest.

Mattheo pulled your face close, grasping your jaw in his hands that were inflicting stinging smacks on you just moments before. “Now go out there, with my marks on your body and remember that you’re mine. They can look all they want but every fucking inch of you belongs to me.” He growled, a devilish grin taking over his face as he drunk your flushed appearance.

You’d nodded, wincing out the door with a stumbling walk, your mind far too drunk on Mattheo to pay any mind to the party still going on. Theo happened to be leaning against the wall near the stairs, his arms holding your robe which you gratefully accepted. He cast a knowing look your way but didn’t say anything further as he guided you to the exit.

“Goodnight piccola, I hope it was what you wanted.”

I don’t even know what I want anymore.

You brooded, waving goodbye at Theo and hobbling your weak legs up the stairs. Your ass rosy and ablaze with arousal dripping down your thighs.

#smutanarchyfics #smutanarchyworks #slytherin boys #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #hootiepietheowl #slytherin boys x reader

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coochellati · 9 months ago

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Carnal Inhibitions

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Bruno Bucciarati x gender-neutral reader

Summary: Bruno takes on a submissive role, granting you total control over him.

Genre: Kinky-ass Smut

Content: Inappropriate use of stands, Bruno Bucciarati is a messy sub, overstimulating, edging, aftercare.

Word Count: 1,042

{Read on AO3!}

Drenched in sweat, the imperturbable underboss of Passione trembles under your touch, gasping as if he were fighting for his life. Eyes scrunched shut beneath furrowed brows, he reflexively attempts to cover his gaping mouth with his hand, but it's no use--the rope binding his wrist prevents him from reaching that far. His meticulously styled bangs now cling to his forehead in soaked clumps, the flashy gold clips holding his braid in place gradually sliding out of his hair.

Bruno Bucciarati is a fucking mess.

"Cazzo, m-merda--" he stammers, shooting you a frantic stare before throwing his head backward, letting out a filthy, guttural moan as his body abruptly jolts forward. "Please just let me--"

A frustrated groan escapes him as you suddenly release him and his stand from your grasp. He scrunches his eyes once more as he struggles against the ropes tethering him to his bed, but quickly resigns himself to his fate—he isn't going anywhere. He shoots you a distressed stare.

"I can't--I don't--I don't know how much more of this I can--" he desperately stutters, choking on his breath.

"What, can't handle a bit of pleasure?" you tease, a smirk plastered across your face.

"A bit of pleasure?" His voice shakes. "That's what you call it? This is torture! Ah--!" Bruno lets out a distraught whine as you begin caressing him with your thumbs, one for each tip. He's hot to the touch, cock flushed a deep shade of red.

"Oh, come on--you're a mafioso, you can handle it. Besides, I know you're enjoying this. If you weren't, you would have unsummoned Sticky Fingers by now," you smugly retort. He sharply inhales through gritted teeth as you resume your movements on him and his stand.

"Too much, this is too much—" he whines, as the phantom sensations and tangible pleasure mix together, creating an unbearable amount of stimulation. You anticipate him to follow up with the safe word the two of you had chosen, but he doesn't, validating your previous claim.

Heartbeat pounding in his face, Bruno tenses, once again approaching climax. "Please--p-please let me cum," he begs, voice strained with hysteria. You can tell he's close--with an evil smile, you abruptly stop all movements, swiftly withdrawing your hands from him.

'Ah--Cazzo!' he cries out, releasing a prolonged, pained groan. With wide eyes, he stares at the ceiling, his lip trembling. He shuts his eyes, and the floodgates open—tears stream down his face, his thick, dark eyelashes clumping together. Each breath he takes is shaky, accompanied by soft sniffles. "I—I can't," he manages between gasps for air, his voice barely audible. "P-please, I can't..." The rest of his words dissolve into unintelligible jibberish.

You chuckle lowly, wiping away his tears. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry like this." Drawing your face close to his, you gently brush back his sodden bangs as he continues to weep. Finally, you give him a tender kiss on the forehead. "Alright—you've been good. I'll let you come."

"T-thank you," Bruno chokes out, gulping as you continue massaging him and his stand with slow, deliberate strokes. With his mouth hanging agape, he emits a constrained gasp, his face intensely contorted in agonizing pleasure. His heart feels as if it's about to give out; a string of Italian expletives disjointedly spills from his mouth as he forcefully presses the back of his head into the mattress, body stiffening.

"I'm going to--" his words are abruptly cut off by a sharp gasp, eyes widening as he tumbles over the threshold, vision fading to black as ecstasy engulfs his body. A loud, shameless groan fills the room, and his consciousness explodes into a flaming blast, body violently jerking as his senses become consumed by intense, rippling shockwaves. Pulsing in your hand, he releases, spilling out onto himself and the bedsheets surrounding him.

With one final moan, he crumbles apart, his body going limp. Still in shock, he pants heavily, eyes quickly darting around the room in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings.

"Merda," he chuckles, still out of breath. A smile forms on his face. "That was intense."

"And you handled it so well," you warmly praise and begin stroking his hair, unfazed by its warm dampness. He lets out a content sigh as he sinks into the bed, body melting at your touch. The two of you sit still for a few seconds, savoring the moment before you reach for the baby wipes you had set on the nightstand in preparation for the events that had just occurred. "Here, let me clean you." He watches as you wipe away the mess on his torso, your touch delicate.

Once finished, you cradle his jawline, eliciting a soft smile from Bruno. His deep, half-lidded eyes lock onto yours as you lean in close, noses touching. "I love you, Bruno."

"I love you, too," he whispers gently, releasing a singular, happy chuckle before pressing his warm lips against yours. A blissful haze descends, clouding your senses as the faint light from the flickering candle on the nightstand casts elongated shadows of both of you on the wall opposite. Everything around you is still, quiet, and calm.

Gently pulling away, Bruno lightly tugs at the ropes. "Care to untie me?"

"Oh—right, of course," you say, slightly flustered. He patiently waits as you release each limb.

Finally free, he sits up and rolls his wrists around, closing his eyes as he lets out a long exhale of relief. With one hand, he pushes back his hair and turns his head towards you, silently mouthing, "Thank you." You nod in acknowledgment and flop onto the bed, resting on your back.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter, realizing you hadn't checked where you decided to lie down. "We're going to have to wash the bedding."

He smiles in amusement, leaning over you. "Yeah, but not yet."

"Huh? Aren't we going to sleep somewhat soon...?--OH!" Surprise flashes across your face as Bruno suddenly pins you down. The sound of a zipper tickles your ears as you become securely fastened to the bed.

With a smirk on his face, he looks down at you. "What? You think you're off the hook?" He chuckles softly, shaking his head. His eyes narrow. "Your turn."

#bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #jjba x reader #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #yeah i said this was going to be out this weekend but I got the chance to finish it!!!!#jjba x gender neutral reader #Bruno Bucciarati x gender neutral reader #Jovia Joestar writes #AHAHAHAHA I HOPE U LIKE THE IMAGE I PHOTOSHOPPED #it was originally for that moan post #but i spent a while making it. so im going to reuse it #i can’t even look Bruno in the eyes after writing this one #(I’m half kidding—as soon as I finished this I tried looking at a pic of Bruno and felt too embarrassed.)#(good thing I’m over it because he’s literally tattooed on my arm. He’s literally staring at me from my arm 👀)

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moetrj · 5 months ago

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A falta que ela me faz

— Tente achar algo que lhe afaste das coisas ruins.— Ela disse.

Já faz alguns dias, uma semana mais especificamente, novamente estou nesse consultório monótono, paredes brancas e só o barulho do ponteiro do relógio passando— o mesmo cenário de quase todas as manhãs.

Minha psicóloga me disse para afastar as coisas ruins— Mas como afasto a falta dela? Eu passei a semana inteira procurando resposta; não achei.

Acho que eu só conseguiria afastar as coisas ruins se conseguisse trazer ela de volta; eu sei que não tem como. Por que insistiria?

Todas as minhas consultas são iguais e todos pareciam falar a mesma coisa e a típica frase "você precisa superar e seguir em frente" ficava ecoando na minha mente como um remorso. Mas acho que não vou conseguir superar, pelo menos não até descobrir o porquê ela foi embora.

O que eu fiz de errado?

Eu sou normalmente uma pessoa ignorante e de cara fechada mas, meu Deus, com aquela mulher era totalmente diferente.

O que eu fiz de errado?

Será que ela não gostou das flores que eu entregava? Das cartas que escrevia só para ela? Das músicas que lhe dedicava? Dos passeios? Da forma que eu lhe dava carinho?

Porra, o que eu fiz de errado?

Acho que agora, não posso mais descobrir. Me perdi. Agora ando pelas ruas gélidas com as mãos nos bolsos do casado, agora sozinha, antes, com ela andando de mãos dadas.

Por que a vida tem que ser assim?

A falta dela causa coisas em mim que eu não achei que sentiria novamente— Mas veja, pareço a garotinha solitária de alguns anos atrás.

O destino me pregou uma bela peça, me fazendo achar que ela seria o amor da minha vida; foi só mais um improviso. Ela me tirou da minha pior época, para trazê-la a tona em tão pouco tempo.

Acho que deveria ter escutado minha mãe quando ela disse que o amor era uma perda de tempo; eu me perdi junto.

— "I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue…"— A melodia que saiu dos meus fones enquanto eu pensava em toda essa merda.

Acho que eu não nasci para ser amada de verdade. Estou tão acostumada com o abandono, por que achei que seria diferente?

Ela foi embora. Realmente foi.

E até hoje eu não sei como afastar a falta dela, mas talvez eu tenha encontrado uma rota de fuga— Estou me afastando de mim mesma até que tudo isso suma.

"True blue, true blue, true blue…" Sempre blue.

— Merj.

(Contém referências a música 'Blue' da cantora Billie Eilish)

#merj #autoral #pvpmembros #projetovelhopoema #projetoversografando #projetocartel #projetoalmaflorida #projetoflorejo #amor #meus escritos #sentimentos #blue #billie eilish #hmhas #desabafo #diálogo #psicoterapia

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nominzn · 2 years ago

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Jo Malone & Pinot Noir

chenle x leitora gênero: fluff; friends to lovers. Chenle reconhece que ser amigo de infância teria suas vantagens: te conhece bem, sabe como te agradar e te faria feliz como ninguém; no entanto, até hoje a confissão está presa na garganta. mlist wc: 1.2k a/n: essa aqui nasceu de um devaneio caótico com a @ncdreaming. eu sou lelé pelo chenle. ele não queria parecer emocionado, mas falhou, viu? espero que gostem. :)

você: po aí

você: nem p apresentar né

você: os de vdd eu sei quem são

Chenle revirou os olhos ao ler tuas respostas ao seu mais novo story, que contava com a menção ao instagram de mark, seu colega da faculdade. Foram almoçar juntos antes de iniciar um projeto cuja data de entrega se aproximava, e resolveu postar pra registrar o momento descontraído do outro.

Sentiu seu interior borbulhar de ciúmes e respondeu com um emoji de sobrancelha levantada, sem coragem de falar a verdade. Quando o assunto era você, o chinês de confiança quase inabalável perdia a postura. Ele reconhecia que ser amigo de infância teria suas vantagens: te conhecia bem, sabia como te agradar e te faria feliz como ninguém; no entanto, até hoje a confissão estava presa na garganta.

Nos últimos meses, esse lance tinha tomado proporções intoleráveis, e o menino começou até a evitar sair com você para festas, pois odiava ver o tanto de babaca que te dava mole. Era agoniante perceber seus risinhos forçados, acompanhados dos carinhos sedutores nos ombros de um qualquer… detestava ficar passando vontade.

Abrindo o arquivo, viu você acompanhada de Jaemin e Hyuck, no supermercado. O último escondeu o rosto com um hangloose e deu uma risadinha, enquanto o primeiro só tirou os olhos do celular pra fazer um biquinho e exibir uma piscadela.

você: chama ele p hj

você: o jaemin disse q n liga

você: [vídeo]

Chenle xingou os amigos mentalmente. amigos da onça, isso sim. Os dois estavam bem cientes de como ele te enxergava, ainda assim deixariam um pseudo interesse amoroso, parceiro dele, ir na resenha e possivelmente pegar a mulher que queria para si?

Inspirou fundo, contou até dez, e a irritação momentânea passou. Recobrando a sobriedade, decidiu-se: essa enrolação acabaria hoje mesmo, no bendito jantar – para qual não convidara mark, obviamente.

Despedindo-se do colega após finalizar a tarefa, entrou na X6 e suspirou pesado, jogando a mochila no banco do carona. Precisava bolar um plano de ataque. Caso chegasse na casa de Jaemin despreparado, a coragem repentina poderia evaporar.

Dirigiu calmamente pela cidade, necessitava colocar a cabeça no lugar e pensar em como chegaria em você. Tinha receio de parecer emocionado, mas, principalmente, não queria assustá-la. Com todo o estresse atrelado à tentativa de esconder os sentimentos, ele nunca se permitiu reparar o tanto que te queria. Como seria bom se vocês ficassem, puta merda. Agora vislumbrava com clareza o quanto era doido pra te ter assim; pretendia, todavia, fazer tudo com calma e deixar que você se ajustasse a ideia de vocês dois juntos.

Chenle não mediu esforços para se apresentar bem. Teriam apenas uma noite de pizza e vinhos, então seria desnecessário, e suspeito, usar peças mais refinadas; sabia, porém, como suas roupas casuais mexiam contigo. Vestiu-se de forma simples, all black, dando o toque final com teu moletom favorito dele, além do Jo Malone que também gostava – sempre elogiava seu cheiro. Dando-se por satisfeito, partiu em direção a tua casa, que não era longe dali. Haviam combinado a carona uns dias antes, você não precisou insistir pra que ele aceitasse.

“Tá cheiroso, Lele.” Disse ao entrar no carro, inclinando-se para depositar um beijinho carinhoso na bochecha do rapaz, que torceu o rosto bem a tempo do canto da boca roubar o contato.

“Valeu, gatinha.” Sorriu trêfego, mesmo esforçando-se para fingir que nada tinha acontecido. O rubor na tua face acabou camuflado na meia-luz da bmw, e ele deu partida, retomando o caminho até o destino.

Rapidamente chegaram, e o jovem se preparou para estacionar o carro largo numa vaga complicada, mas bem em frente à casa de Jaemin. Tirando o cinto de segurança, apoiou o braço direito no banco do carona e virou o pescoço pra trás. Sua mão esquerda se mantivera no volante, conduzindo facilmente. Teus olhos acompanhavam cada movimento, observando o cabelo desalinhado, a mandíbula definida e o pescoço exposto... tão lindo.

“Teu carro não tem câmera traseira?” Indagou rindo fraco, não imaginava que o chinês fazia de propósito. Ele bem sabia que julgava o ato atraente.

“Que mané câmera, bebê.” Deixou o apelido escapar. “O pai sabe o que tá fazendo.” Completou, parando o automóvel com sucesso. “Tá maluco, sei muito!”

Mirando-se no espelho do banheiro, percebeu os lábios arroxeados pela bebida que lhe deixara leve. Tô meio alegrinha, concluiu para si mesma. Saindo do cômodo, notou o corredor escuro e logo franziu o cenho. Jurava que a luz estava acesa antes de entrar ali.

“Procurando alguma coisa?” Surpreendeu-se com a voz mansa do melhor amigo, que enlaçou as mãos na tua cintura, sem permitir que o visse de frente.

“Não, eu tava…” Ele pousou o queixo sobre um dos teus ombros, o bendito perfume atingiu teus sentidos e te impediu de racionar. “sei lá, nem lembro.”

“Vamo’ ali rapidinho?” Sinalizou com a cabeça, mas pegou teu dedo mindinho com o próprio, te conduzindo para entrar na varanda iluminada somente pelo luar.

Chenle entrou primeiro e te observou cerrar a porta balcão. Sentou-se em um dos bancos altos e te trouxe para mais perto de si, posicionando-a entre suas pernas. Levantou uma de suas mãos para acariciar tua bochecha macia, fixando os olhos nos teus, em total silêncio. Você não se reconhecia capaz de desviar o olhar, e muito menos de se afastar do menino para voltar pros amigos. As conversas abafadas no andar de baixo já não eram mais importantes.

Com toque sedutor, dedos cálidos seguiram até tua nuca, aproximando os rostos mais um pouquinho. Questionava-se se o tempo estava passando mais devagar, ou se Chenle mexia-se com lentidão. A verdade era que ele não queria que aquilo fosse imaginação, nem que terminasse.

Você apertou as pálpebras pesadas, então Lele aproveitou para afagar a ponta do teu nariz com o próprio. Estavam tão perto, isso estava te matando. Ele não tinha pressa alguma, testaria teus limites somente por provocação; não previu, entretanto, que você tomaria iniciativa.

“Me beija, Lele.” Declarou num sussurro suplicante, completamente envolvida.

“Posso?” A voz grave perguntou baixinho. Não te beijaria sem uma resposta, mas, te esperando, não resistiu roçar delicadamente os lábios.

Com isso, atingiu teu máximo. Capturou os lábios carnudinhos dele nos teus com paixão, e descobriu que era muito superior ao que já havia fantasiado. Beijavam-se vagarosamente, o gosto de lar e Pinot Noir nas línguas desfazendo qualquer pudor restante. As digitais acariciando teu quadril te incendiavam, enquanto as outras ainda te guiavam pelo pescoço; as suas, ora agarravam com força o capuz, ora os braços musculosos.

“Duvido que outro te beijaria assim.” Murmurou no selinho demorado, como se te confiasse um segredo. Estava entorpecido não mais pelo vinho, mas por você. Como não recebeu resposta, afastou-se minimamente e indagou: “Fala pra mim. Quem, hm?” Mordiscou o lábio sensível.

“Só você, Lele.” Mal compreendia a própria fala, só ansiava voltar a beijá-lo. E o fez.

Contudo, ouviram um burburinho bem próximo da varanda. Exigiu muito de Chenle se separar de você e fazer de conta que estavam apenas trocando uma ideia esse tempo todo.

“Vocês estão bem?” Hyuck estava debruçado na porta, inclinando a cabeça para dentro da varanda. “Geral já tá indo embora.”

“Sim, sim, já vamo’ descer.” Você anunciou, admirando as unhas recém feitas, disfarçando o melhor que podia.

Assim que o moreno fechou a porta novamente, você e chenle trocaram um olhar arteiro e reprimiram as risadas baixas, querendo discrição. Ele depositou vários selinhos cheios de carinho entre os sorrisos, sem acreditar que quase haviam sido pegos.

A volta pra casa foi diferente, definitivamente. O polegar do chinês afagando sua coxa ao dirigir, e os risinhos ao se olharem nos sinais vermelhos, e a despedida prolongada dentro da X6 denunciavam: não importava quanto tempo havia passado, eles tinham apenas acabado de começar.

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tellmeallaboutit · 5 months ago

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knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 13, In Which Your Father Hangs Himself

AO3

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with suicide and this is NOT the last time this work will feature suicide in graphic detail. Other warnings include: prostitution, sexual aggression / assault, xenophobia, toxic relationships.

This is chapter from Raul's POV. This got too large for Tumblr so I will only leave the first scene here.

****

"Tell them to go to hell," your father said.

He wasn't even looking at you - he was looking at the fireplace, slumped in his chair, his hand rubbing Bella - his favourite cane corso, a beast of a dog, who lay at his feet with her heavy belly full of pups. She bared her teeth at you when you tried to approach, so you kept your distance.

"Papa, I obviously cannot do that," you said.

He was in one of his moods, you could see that.

One of those days he thought he had the holy right to make other people’s day hell.

"Why not?"

You drew in a sharp breath before answering, "Because today is your eightieth birthday. Because everyone's here to celebrate. The house is more crowded than St Peter’s on Easter Sunday. Because the Prime Minister herself has just..."

He cut you off mid-sentence with a raised hand. "I'm not in the mood for a party. You deal with it, Raul".

Two months of preparation, in which you had to get personally involved because of the announcement he was hinting at. A public announcement he should damn well should make, because he clearly couldn't run Avernus anymore.

"Are you deliberately embarrassing me in front of all these people?" you said.

"You're embarrassing yourself in front of these people, Raul”, he answered and made a grating initiation of somebody else’ voice, because you surely don’t sound like that. “Oh no, what if they don't like me, what if they think less of me, oh no, oh no. You always worried too much about what people thought of you. They should worry about what you think of them, if you ever wish to amount to anything”.

Merda! You should have known better than to return to Napoli for this farce.

"Ah, forget it. No matter what I do, you will find something to criticise."

Finally, your father looked at you. You took after him in appearance, or so they said; you barely remembered your mother anyway to cross-check. That’s what another thirty years will do to you; grey out your black hair, bloat your jawline, steal your muscles and mark your face with age spots.

There was not so much time left. For him, even less.

God willing.

"No matter what you do? You do nothing," he stated, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "What exactly do you do?"

Don’t answer. Don’t… you… bloody…

"I run an international law firm!”, you exploded. “I employ thirty thousand people worldwide... and I built it from scratch! I own estates EVERYWHERE! PRIVATE JETS! ALL WITHOUT YOUR HELP!"

He scoffed and looked back at the flames. That was a special talent of his; reducing you to a raging mess while he remained an epitome of calmness.

"He has private jets, look at him. Without my help you'd be making pizzas for tourists, Raul."

This was pointless. It had always been pointless.

What had you ever hoped for? Did you truly think there would be something to make this man proud or happy?

"What did you expect from me?”, you asked. “What was I supposed to achieve to make you proud?!"

"Something that matters", your father shrugged.

"And what's that supposed to mean? WHAT MATTERS TO YOU?"

"Legacy matters" he said, patting Bella's head. "Isn't that right, Bella? My sweet girl gives me at least five quality cubs every year. Did you know her last litter won Italy’s top prize? That's a good girl.” Then he turned his gaze back to you. "Not like those scrawny things you've been chasing since school. All this whoring, all this sin, and not even a single bastard to show for it".

Bella stuck her tongue out and panted, looking up at your father with sheer devotion. For a fleeting moment, you thought of putting a bullet in his head, and then in hers.

"You can't be serious. You know very well how hard I tried..."

"Obviously not hard enough," he said. "Here I am at eighty, and what legacy do I leave? For whom? Generations before you had given everything, sacrificed everything, everything, and for whom, for whose future? Who will inherit this country? The Muslims?"

He spat on the floor.

"I'll tell you who will inherit my fortune," he continued. "The Church. At least they have the decency to remember who we once were. What we fought for. What we dreamed of building. A nation of pride and ambition and honour. But you, Raul? You fled your home to where the money was and sold your soul to the golden calf”.

What? No way. Not to the Church. The old man is getting dementia, he is incoherent. That's it, that's what's happening: your father is going senile.

"That's enough," you finally manage to say through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to this madness any longer. I have too much dignity for that."

“You wouldn’t know dignity if it hit you in the face,” he said. "Maybe my mistake was loving you too much. Spoiling you rotten. Poor boy, he lost his mother so early."

You bristled at his words, but refused to let him have the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you turned on your heel to leave, only to collide with that damned bronze monstrosity.

That thing - the statue that haunted your childhood nightmares; always guarding the door, ensuring no one dared disturb the man who loathed disturbances - Mephistopheles as depicted by Jacques Louis Gautier.

"I swear to God," you seethed. "That damned statue... I've hated it my whole life. The minute you're in the ground, I'm smashing it into dust."

"It serves its purpose," he replied coolly. "Reminding me of my failures when your presence is not enough”.

You paused at the door, deciding that today was the last day you would ever try for him.

Avernus Capital wasn't worth it.

Nothing was worth it.

"You know what, Papa?" You asked, struggling to keep your voice as calm and composed as you father’s, "I hope it's your last birthday."

You were hoping for a reaction. But just like always, he failed to deliver what you hoped for.

He offered none; even the shrug he gave was half-hearted. Bella fell asleep despite all the commotion; her head resting on your father’s shoe.

"Keep hoping," he said. "I plan on living until I'm a hundred and fifty, and then some."

#tw: suicide #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x player #raphael x reader #knock knock

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ghostchems · 1 year ago

Text

WIP WHENEVER

thank u @angellayercake and I’m p sure also @sweatandwoe forever ago for tagging me! i have like four on-going updates i should be working on but instead i am working on this

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

“Amore? Is that you?” Copia asks in a hushed whisper, stress hanging in his voice. For a moment you’re too anxious to answer but you manage to squeak out a response.

“It is.”

“Oh, bene bene.” He sighs, his relief evident in his voice. “I am, ugh, having some trouble with the surprise.”

“How can I help?” You are quick to make your way to the bathroom door, trying to listen in to what’s happening on the other side.

“Merda. It’ll ruin la sorpresa.” He grumbles to himself. “I-I’m sorry you couldn’t see me, eh, completely done.” Before you’re able to tell him not to be sorry at all he emerges from the bathroom and your mind goes completely blank. Even in the lowlight you can see the blush creeping up his freckled shoulders and cheeks. Copia is wearing nothing but a small pair of black briefs, his black gloves with skeleton detail and half of his batwing harness, having secured it through one of his arms but not the other. “I, heh, usually have some help getting these on.”

tagging @writingjourney, @leezlelatch, @copias-fluffy-asscheeks

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost bc fanfic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfics #Cardinal Copia x reader #Copia x reader #papa iv x reader #papa iv

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human-antithesis · 2 years ago

Audio

Merda Mundi - Requiem (March 6th, 2023)

Everything composed by Déhà

#Merda Mundi #Black Metal #Raw Black Metal #Déhà #Belgium #Musical Excrements

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tecontos · 1 year ago

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Me viciei em chupar rola.

By; Bruna

Ola, sou a Bruna, e até meus 20 anos, sempre fui menina de família, comportada, so tinha relações com namorados. Até eu experimentar a cachorrada e ficar viciada em sexo oral.

Na verdade, não é sexo oral, de uns 2 anos pra cá, eu fiquei viciada em chupar uma rola. Porque sexo oral, a gente faz nas preliminares do sexo com namoradinho.

Eu acho que o que me pirou a cabeça foi justamente sentir o lado da piranhagem de ajoelhar e pagar um boquete. Me sentir uma vagabunda, me sentir submissa, sentir que to ali me sujeitando a agradar o macho mandão.

Eu sou loirinha, baixinha e viciada em rola preta. Não sou menina timida ou subimissa no meu dia a dia, acho que sou mais do tipo patricinha expansiva. Mas quando um safado coloca uma piroca na minha cara, na frente do meu nariz, parece que cai um raio na minha cabeça e liga um botão que me transforma numa vadia submissa.

Acho que é justamente essa sensação que tira a minha cabecinha do sério, estourar a minha bolha de menina mimada e ter que chupar um pau igual uma atriz porno,

Ainda mais quando é um negão. É a sina de toda menina loira, se sentir dominada por um caralhão preto cafajeste. Parece que dá um nó na minha cabeça, mas me deixa com muito tesão…

Eu simplesmente não consigo mais parar de chupar uma rola preta, Vou em rodas de pagode, baile funk e fiz até um perfil no tinder apenas pra dar match em negão pirocudo pra matar a minha vontade de cair de boca num cacete.

Criei um perfil no tinder, com nome fake e fotos minhas sem rosto, com a única missão de dar match em negão caralhudo que pudesse matar o meu tédio. já deixei claro na bio que procurava negros com pau de 15cm pra cima

É o mundo dos privilégios que uma loirinha postando fotos de bikine ou vestidinho consegue fazer sem muita dificuldade quando ta afim de piranhar um pouco.

Muitas curtidas, muitos papos chatos e um filtro apurado pra fazer valer a regra dos 15cm pra cima.

Com a dedicação de uma Bunny Bitch avaliando pintos numa sexta feria tediosa, acabei ficando de papo com um negão safado que dizia ter 18cm e mandou uma foto com a pica do lado de um desodorante. E olha, o desodorante perdia kkkk

Eu não lembro muito os papinhos que ele me falou, mas quem se importa? Era uma piroca preta de 18cm, justamente o que eu estava procurando.

E ele falou que era motorista de uber, o que já facilitaria o meu transporte. Era o match perfeito rs

O meu fogo era tanto que nem entrando no banho ele apagou. Me maquiei e me arrumei toda com o frio na barriga de estar fazendo alguma merda, mas que o tesão já me deixava cega demais pra pensar nisso.

Em frente ao espelho passando um batonzinho de patricinha que seria todo borrado na pica de um motorista de uber. Eu não sei descrever o quanto isso me deixava mais tarada ainda.

Vestidinho, salto e perfume, eu me preparei pra ser a piranha daquele negão. Eu estava com fogo, ansiedade e muito tesão.

Eu havia experimentado todo esse lado da putaria nos EUA e acho que entrei num caminho sem volta. Mas na viagem tudo era mais fácil, ninguem me conhecia e a minha vida pessoal estava a km de distancia. Essa seria a minha primeira vez dentro do meu território e perto da minha vida real.

Meu nome era fake, marquei na frente de um shopping pra ele não saber meu endereço e sequer passei meu wpp. A minha intenção era uma trepada casual e sumir sem o risco que isso atingisse a minha vida pessoal.

Apesar desse meu lado Bunny submissa de negão, eu ainda sou uma patricinha “normal” que tem uma vida discreta na minha bolha de amigos.

Eu só queria matar a vontade de mamar uma piroca preta e descobrir se eu sentira a mesma sensação de submissa que tinha na mão dos Black Bulls que me comeram por meses.

Peguei um uber até o shopping e fiquei na frente do estacionamento aonde eu havia marcado com o negão do tinder. Eu peguei um uber pro uber me pegar. Isso era muita putaria…

Conversando apenas pelo chat do tinder, o carro do negão apareceu e eu entrei pela porta de trás como se fosse uma passageira comum. Ele me olhava pelo espelho retrovisor e fiz questão de cruzar as pernas, com meu vestidinho deixando toda as minhas coxas de fora.

Ele me perguntou pra onde iriamos.

Sem muito papo e com um sorrisinho de patricinha sapeca, eu só falei o nome de um motel. O negão soltou o maior sorriso de satisfação da vida dele, e nem pensou duas vezes em começar a sair com o carro.

Foram uns 10 minutos de viagem até o destino que parecia uns 2 anos. Foi o tempo que eu tive pra primeiro me acalmar do medo de dar merda e de conhecer um pouco do tarado que estava prestes a me devorar.

38 anos, separado, 2 filhos e um caralho de 18cm. Esse último detalhe era tudo que eu queria saber pra entender melhor o que a minha bucetinha de 20 aninhos ia enfrentar.

Contei pra ele sobre a minha viagem e de como eu havia experimentado Big Black Cocks pela primeira vez. E o quanto isso mexeu com a minha cabecinha loira.

Ele ria com um misto de tesão e de orgulho do que os irmãos negros fizeram na dondoquinha loira.

Enquanto meu fogo só aumentava de poder contar pra ele o quanto eu havia sido vadia na mão da negada. Meu lado exibicionista é tão forte que meu tesão bate só de mostrar pros machos o quanto eu sou uma piranha de negros.

Chegamos no motel e aquele batonzinho que eu tanto me produzi na frente do espelho teve que começar a trabalhar.

Com o meu negão deitado na beirada da cama, eu me ajoelhei no chão, entre as suas pernas e cai de boca naquele BBC. Eu não medi pra saber se tinha mesmo 18cm, mas ele era do tamaho da minha cara.

Só de botar a rola por cima da minha bochecha, tampava todo meu rostinho de patricinha dondoca.

Puta que pariu, eu adoro isso…

Matei a vontade de chupar uma rola preta e me transformei na bitch submissa de negão que eu havia aprendido a ser com os Black Bulls.

A minha fome era tanta e o tesão do negão maior ainda, que não deve ter durado 3 minutos de boquete até o negao gozar tudo na minha cara

Eu realmente engolia com fome e vontade de chupar uma rola, que acho que o negão não aguentou ver uma loirinha novinha chupando um caralho com tanta vontade, meu batonzinho desapareceu de tanto borrar no caralho do negão do tinder.

Negão do tinder!!!

Tinder na minha mão vai ser um perigo, é facil de mais arrumar um tarado pra fazer maldades com uma pobre loirinha indefesa rs

Com o rostinho todo gozado e ainda segurando e brincando com a pica do meu motorista de uber, eu sequer tinha tirado a minha roupa e já tinha derrubado o primeiro round com o meu comedor.

Ele recuperava o folego e pedia desculpas. Desculpas de que? Chupar um caralho daqueles tinha sido uma delicia.

Lavei meu rosto e voltei pra cama, subindo por cima dele nos beijando como namoradinhos. Suas mãos grudaram imediatamente na minha bunda e parece que nunca mais sairam de lá

Meu vestidinho ia subindo, suas maos apertando a minha bunda e seu pau ficando duro no meio das minhas coxas.

Em algum momento a gente percebeu que ainda estavamos vestidos, e isso foi logo corrigido, com as roupas voando pelo chão e com o meu negão me virando na cama, girando por cima de mim, ainda me beijando

E ainda apertando a minha bunda…

Só me lembro de pegar uma camisinha na bolsa e segurar com calma aquela piroca. Era grande do jeito que eu queria. Era gostosa de segurar ate pra colocar a camisinha nele.

Acho que foi quando o negão começou a tomar uma atitude mais dominante e abriu as minhas pernas, jogando por cima dos ombros dele. Se encaixando na frente da minha bucetinha juvenil.

Mais uma vez eu me via nessa situação de chapeuzinho vermelho loira de pernas abertas pra um Negão dotado. Eu realmente fiquei viciada em BBC.

E daí por diante foi so pica pra dentro. Não sei quanto tempo, mas foi gostoso, foi intenso, foi com vontade.

Acho que a primeira gozada no boquete ajudou o negão aguentar mais na segunda. Pq ele socava firme e com vontade, comendo com gostoso a minha bucetinha de Bunny branquinha

Eu fui comida com gosto, fui comida como eu queria ser.

Caralho como era gostoso ser devorada por um negão safado de pau grande. Eu nunca mais quero parar de experimentar isso…

Ainda trepamos uma segunda vez na hidro e a minha bucetinha saiu vermelha de tanta pica que eu levei. Mas voltei pra casa feliz e com a certeza no meu vicio por um negão caralhudo

E muitos ainda virão

Enviado ao Te Contos por Bruna

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lucuslavigne · 1 year ago

Text

Um fofo, não é?

Shinichiro Sano × Leitora.

๑: perv!shinichiro, sub!shinichiro, dom!leitora, smut (roubo de calcinha, masturbação masculina, praise, degradação, dacryfilia, edging, oversimulation, spanking, marking, outercourse, breeding, semi public sex se a gente reparar bem, Shinichiro implora um pouco. Os avisos citados não estão necessariamente nessa ordem), outros personagens são mencionados.

Nene's note: não sei se gostei ou não, só sei que eu amo o Shinichiro 😍

Espero que gostem.

Já era a terceira semana em que percebia a ausência de - agora - muitas de suas roupas íntimas, especificamente de suas calcinhas preferidas. Já havia perguntado a seu irmão, Wakasa, se ele as havia colocado em algum lugar diferente do habitual, mas, como já era de se esperar, o mesmo sequer havia mexido em seus pertences.

— Mas que saco! — disse enquanto fechava sua gaveta com força.

Deitou em sua cama apenas com um roupão cobrindo seu corpo, logo escutando batidas na porta.

— Entra. — respondeu, sabendo que era seu irmão.

— Shinichiro 'tá aqui. — te falou. — Menos chilique aí. — avisou, te olhando com a mesma cara de todo dia, cansado.

— 'Tá, 'tá, agora me deixa reclamar em paz. — se levantou para fechar a porta.

Shinichiro Sano é o melhor amigo de seu irmão. Líder da gangue Black Dragons, qual o seu irmão é um dos maiores na hierarquia. O Sano não é um cara ruim, ele é bastante divertido - e bonito - então a presença dele nunca te incomodou.

Os irmãos mais novos de Shinichiro também gostam muito de você! Izana adora quando você o acompanha em alguma loja de música ou de animais aquáticos, já Emma gosta quando vocês passam horas conversando sobre roupas e Manjiro se sente muito empolgado quando vê que você está prestando atenção nele enquanto ele fala sobre as brigas em que ele se meteu e ganhou. Todos da família eram uma boa companhia.

— Wakasa? — perguntou de fora do quarto, caminhando para a sala.

— Ele saiu, S/N. — Shinichiro te respondeu.

— Ah sim. — olhou ao redor. — Você quer alguma coisa para comer Shini? — o perguntou.

— Eu 'tô bem, mas, obrigado. — sorriu.

— Eu vou só beber um copo de água e venho te fazer companhia. — falou para o mais velho.

— Não precisa ficar aqui comigo se não quiser. — disse enquanto olhava para baixo.

— Mas eu gosto da sua companhia Shinichiro. — sorriu para o Sano. — Só espere um minuto.

E Shinichiro esperou. As pernas tremendo em ansiedade, ele sabia que não devia se sentir tão atraído pela irmã mais nova do melhor amigo, mas, o que ele poderia fazer se você era a garota mais linda que ele já havia visto?

O pobre rapaz já não aguentava mais, ele se condena profundamente por gemer seu nome todas as noites antes de dormir. Mas, ele não tem culpa! Você vive com seus lindos pijamas de seda com detalhes rendados, e merda... Ele sabe que você está sem nada por baixo deles. Os seus seios sempre tão convidativos pulando enquanto você sobe ou desce as escadas sempre o deixam maluco. Ou o jeito em que o short de seu pijama mal cobre a sua bunda enquanto você anda.

Porra, Shinichiro era um pervertido.

Ele se lembra de todas as vezes em que você, Wakasa e ele estavam na sala de estar conversando e ele disse que precisava usar o banheiro. Ele subiu para o segundo andar da casa e viu a porta de seu quarto meio aberta. O Sano se perguntou se deveria entrar ou não, mas, acabou entrando de qualquer maneira.

E nossa, o homem ficou encantado com seu quarto. Os pôsteres de alguma atriz que ele não lembrava o nome, a estante com vários livros, a mesa de estudos que já nem era mais utilizada e as fotos de momentos importantes para você. Mas... Espera. Por que uma de suas gavetas está aberta?

Nesse momento a curiosidade ficou muito mais alta, fazendo Shinichiro bisbilhotar sua gaveta, vendo alí, suas roupas íntimas. O Sano ficou louco vendo aquilo, e não pôde evitar pegar uma e levar até o nariz, sentindo seu cheiro na peça.

Quando escutou você e Wakasa rindo um pouco mais alto, colocou sua calcinha no bolso da calça e foi cuidar do problema que tinha no meio das pernas lá no banheiro.

— Shini? — o chamou.

— Sim? — te olhou.

— Por um acaso... — começou a falar enquanto se sentava no sofá. — ... essa aqui... — retirou sua calcinha do bolso do mais alto. — ... é minha calcinha? — o olhou séria, tentando conter um sorriso ao ver o rosto vermelho do Sano.

— É... — Shinichiro nem conseguia te responder! Ele estava tão envergonhado, se sentia tão sujo por fazer algo assim.

— Poxa Shini... — chegou mais perto. — Se queria tanto assim, era só ter me pedido. — sorriu maliciosa.

E Shinichiro teve a certeza de que iria enlouquecer. Como assim era só ter pedido à você? A garota que já estava mais do que preparado para levar um fora e adicionar à lista.

— Como? — te olhou surpreso.

— Vem. — se levantou, levando o homem com você.

O de cabelos pretos sentia o coração batendo na garganta, suava de nervosismo só por você estar segurando a mão dele, se sentindo intimidado com sua beleza. Não o leve a mal, Wakasa não é feio, mas, você e ele não tem nada em comum! Wakasa é só um cara normal, e você parece ter saído de um conto de fadas.

— Entre Shinichiro. — abriu a porta para o homem. — Já está acostumado não é? — o perguntou cínica.

E Shinichiro adentrou o seu quarto junto com você, a cabeça baixa em pura vergonha e o rosto vermelho carmim.

Assim que entraram no cômodo, o Sano sentiu o corpo ser empurrado até a cama arrumada, onde caiu sentado. Mal teve tempo para raciocinar, apenas sentiu seus lábios contra os dele, aumentando o rubor nas bochechas masculinas.

— S/N... — falou durante o beijo.

— Fique quieto e obedeça Sano. — o ameaçou. — Não acha que já aguentei demais as suas burrices? — desceu a mão até o pescoço do homem, apertando alí, vendo Shinichiro ofegar.

— Mas o seu irmão... — tentou rebater.

— Foda-se o que meu irmão vai pensar. — apertou ainda mais o pescoço de Shinichiro. — Ele finalmente vai perceber o quão pervertido o melhor amigo dele é. O que ele pensaria de você se ele descobrisse que você rouba minhas calcinhas p'ra bater uma antes de dormir? — riu da cara do Sano, o mostrando que ele não tiraria vantagem alguma na situação. Bem... Quase nenhuma.

Um gemido baixo foi escutado. Quando Shinichiro viu, você já havia abaixado as calças dele junto com a cueca. Parecia que a agilidade realmente era uma qualidade da família Imaushi.

— Se eu escutar os seus gemidos idiotas eu vou parar e você vai se virar com o meu irmão. — ameaçou. — Entendeu?

— S-sim. — gaguejou.

— Ótimo. — e então começou os movimentos do pau do Sano.

Suas mãos subiram e desciam pelo comprimento do homem, apreciando cada veia que tinha alí enquanto via o moreno morder a própria mão para não te desobedecer. Um fofo, não é? Bom, isso até o momento em que você colocou todo o membro de Shinichiro em sua boca, o fazendo soltar um gemido alto enquanto levava uma das mãos para sua cabeça. Mas aí você parou. Pobre Shinichiro.

— Eu te deixei colocar suas mãos imundas em mim? — o encarou com raiva.

— Me desculpa... — gemeu, sentindo lágrimas se formarem nos olhos afiados.

— Cale a boca. — deu um tapa na ereção dolorida de Shinichiro, fazendo o mesmo dar um gemido alto. — Eu tentei ser boazinha, mas parece que a vadiazinha aqui não tem a capacidade de obedecer não é?

— Me perdoa S/N! — te disse chorando. — Eu prometo obedecer, prometo! — apertou o lençol da cama.

— Então deite na cama e fique calado. — bateu no rosto do Sano, vendo a marca vermelha aparecer na pele clara.

E Shinichiro obedeceu, ele se deitou na sua cama, sentindo o cheiro do seu perfume impregnado alí, e quando ele te olhou ele jurou que poderia gozar.

Se o seu corpo já era maravilhoso quando você estava vestida, nua você era definitivamente uma deusa, e quando o Sano reparou na tatuagem que você tinha bem no meio dos seios, aí sim ele se sentiu no paraíso.

— S/N, por favor... — falou enquanto sentia o pau ficar ainda mais duro.

— Eu te disse para ficar calado Shinichiro. — segurou a mandíbula do homem com força.

Cansada da voz de Shinichiro, você pega a calcinha que o mesmo havia roubado e enfia na boca do mesmo, o calando.

— Quem sabe assim você fique quieto. — subiu no colo do moreno.

Shinichiro chorava mais a cada toque que recebia, ele estava tão sensível! Assim que você fez atrito entre sua intimidade molhada e o pau dele, pronto. Ele já estava revirando os olhos.

— Você 'tá pior que as putas que o amiguinho do seu irmão mora junto. — riu da cara do homem. — Você chora feito um bebê só por conta de uma boceta? — e uma mordida foi dada no ombro do Sano.

— Hmph! — jogou a cabeça para trás.

— Quieto. — acertou um tapa na face de Shinichiro, mas o mesmo apenas gemeu mais. — Você realmente é uma vagabunda. — riu. — Olha o jeito que você gosta de apanhar. — e depois de falar, você deslizou o pau do Sano para dentro de você, a fazendo ficar cheia devido ao tamanho consideravelmente grande do rapaz.

Mas Shinichiro... Ah! Ele estava no paraíso! Sua boceta era a melhor que ele já havia sentido. E quando você começou a montar nele, ele ficou desesperado, querendo gozar, mas com medo de te desobedecer, afinal, você não havia dado permissão a ele para fazer isso.

Os murmúrios que Shinichiro soltava tentando te chamar funcionaram, já que você retirou sua calcinha -agora cheia da saliva do Sano- da boca de Shinichiro.

— O que você quer cachorrinho? — puxou os cabelos negros, o forçando a te olhar.

— Eu quero gozar! — disse enquanto jogava os quadros para cima.

— Mas não vai. — se levantou, ficando do lado de Shinichiro.

— Por favor S/N, por favor! — segurou em suas mãos enquanto o corpo tinha espasmos.

— Não. — colocou uma das mãos sobre o pau sensível do Sano.

Shinichiro chorava, implorava, para que você o fizesse ao ápice. Mas ele também sabia que não seria tão fácil assim.

— Eu faço qualquer coisa! — te olhou com o rosto coberto de lágrimas.

— Ah é? — se aproximou do rosto bonito. — Qualquer coisa? — sorriu.

— Sim! — respondeu desesperado.

— Então seja um bom brinquedinho e sente na cama. — puxou os cabelos negros.

Shinichiro obedeceu sem pensar duas vezes, ele se sentia envergonhado em pensar que estava gostando de toda aquela humilhação, mas era você alí! A mulher mais linda que ele já tinha visto.

— Bom menino. — sussurrou para Shinichiro enquanto colocava o comprimento dele de volta em sua boceta, dessa vez sendo um pouco gentil.

O Sano gemeu com o contato, jogando a cabeça para trás enquanto colocava as mãos em seus quadris, se surpreendendo quando você deixou as mãos dele permanecerem alí.

Você cavalgava nele com força, sentindo cada pedaço do pau de Shinichiro dentro de você, te fazendo gemer um pouco alto, mas não mais alto que o Sano. Shinichiro gritava seu nome, o prazer sendo tão grande que ele não tinha controle algum de seu corpo.

— Você vai gozar meu bem? — o perguntou sorrindo.

— Uhum! — respondeu sem palavras, o cérebro estando fodido demais para conseguir formar uma frase coerente.

— Pode gozar Shini. — limpou as lágrimas que insistiam em cair dos olhos afiados de Shinichiro. — Me enche com os seus bebês. — beijou o moreno.

E porra... Shinichiro gozou só de escutar isso. Gemendo em seus lábios enquanto te puxava para perto, escondendo o rosto em seu pescoço.

— M-me deixa te fazer gozar. — disse fraco, enquanto beijava seu pescoço.

— Aguenta mais um pouco? — o perguntou, mordendo os lábios, com a cabeça para trás.

— S-sim. — foi a vez do Sano morder os lábios, a sensibilidade do orgasmo anterior começando a dar as caras.

Você passou a quicar no pau de Shinichiro, sentindo o seu orgasmo se aproximando, já nem ligando se Wakasa havia chegado em casa e estaria te escutando desse jeito. Você precisava gozar no pau de Shinichiro, precisava gemer o nome do melhor amigo pervertido do seu irmão.

— Shini! — agarrou os cabelos do Sano. — Eu vou... — mas não teve tempo de terminar a frase, apenas gozando fortemente sentindo a carga grossa do esperma de Shinichiro mais uma vez dentro de você. — Você veio de novo cachorrinho? — o provocou.

— Me desculpa... — te olhou com os olhos semiabertos, respirando profundamente.

— Você é um fofo, não é? — beijou o pescoço alvo.

— Shinichiro! — escutaram batidas fortes na porta. — Seu desgraçado!

Shinichiro agora teria que se virar com o Imaushi mais velho.

#tokyo revengers smut #shinichiro sano #shinichiro smut #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers #shinichiro x reader #tokrev shinichiro #smut #anime smut #Spotify

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mar3ggiata · 10 months ago

Text

professional help, c4. The waltz of the Snowflakes.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Harden my heart, Quarterflash.

abstract: he can get fucked, and his captain too. it's Jude if you haven't noticed. I have nothing more to add really, he's an ass and I'm not getting paid enough to deal with this shit, see ya. also, forgive me for the swearing it's a real problem I know!!

Well. That didn't exactly go to plan. Simon Whatever, what the fuck is your problem? She called a friend while driving home. 'Salvo, io gli volevo mettere le mani addosso, stu scemu…’ She was going over the speed limit, holding her phone with one hand. ‘Una merda Salvo, mi hanno mandato via come una cretina, son andata, ho parlato, mi ha detto non si puoi fare guagliù, chi cazz si pe me dicr chell c’agg fa oh!’

Now, to all my readers, I will translate. Jude speaks dialect when she's mad, bare with her. Her voice usually drooped an octave when she spoke it to accommodate the guttural and rough sounds of her language. Swear words that would make your racist grandad cry. She was calling Salvatore, she met him in 2021, he was currently deployed in South Korea. She told him she wanted to hit him, she said, they sent me away without hearing me out, they said what you're suggesting can't be done. 'Scusa, cosa hai proposto tu?' She loved Salvo, he was so understanding, he could read her mind. It was refreshing, when she found out he was from the same country as her. Speaking a bit of Italian with him was a break from all the English, the accents and the words she didn't know how to pronounce. 'Cosa ho detto, ho proposto che lo seguissero, anche grazie al cazzo vorrei dire… ( I refuse to translate all the swearing, Jude.) Questi vogliono aspettare e non fare nulla, però mi fanno perdere tempo con ste cazz'e riunioni!' (This means, 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.')

Salvo tried to reassure her that it wasn't really her problem, to which she replied, Arash was her patient. He asked her about the captain, she commented he stood there, watched her argue with his guard dog Lieutenant without saying a word. Coward, she called him. Who's the Lieutenant, he then asked. She told him, maybe she messed up the name a bit, but he seemed to recognise him. 'No, veramente?' He asked. 'Il Fantasma'. That made sense, you know, the mask an all. He told her he was quite famous for his mask and his story, which he didn't fully know. Lots of trauma I think, you could work with him. She parked her car in front of the dance school and got her bag. 'Non me ne fott, possono fare quello che vogliono, non sono io che ci rimetto. Lui nu strunz, fammi dire…' She explained she didn't care anymore and that they could do whatever they wanted. He was a dick, that's what she added, probably referring to the famous Lieutenant.

The girls could sense she wasn't having the best day and didn't want to mess with her. They stood quiet and avoided their usual chatting. They did warm up, barre and some center, she sent them off early. 'Miss Alba, we're gonna start rehearsals soon? For the Nutcracker.' It was Luna that spoke. She almost forgot. 'Yes girls next time.' Shit.

The Waltz of the Snowflakes. That's what she was gonna have to teach them. The owner of the school was crazy, the piece was way too difficult for her class. She didn't have time or strength to explain the piece was not meant for girls that young, she would have to simplify it. She put on a video on her laptop, trying to remember the best she could the original piece. She stripped of her leg warmers and her black shrug. Her mind kept wandering off the meeting with Price, not letting her concentrate. She was mad. Not because she didn’t get her way, they were the ones dying in the Middle East, not her. But because it was fucking humiliating. As a woman as well, you know. Maybe she made a mistake, going in there looking all pretty. But again, why would she sacrifice herself just to earn some basic respect? After she failed her pirouettes for the third time, she decided it was time to go home. She would talk to Arash and, if needed, follow him on her own.

notes: Since this is a shorter chapter (I've been incredibly busy with uni and work), here are some details about Jude:

height: 5’2’’ - eye colour: green - hair colour: blonde

traits: mole on her cheek, slightly crooked nose. mole on her right butt cheek, scar on her knee. at least 30 smaller moles all over her body. small boobie queen.

if she was a colour: dark blue

if she was an animal: killer whale

if she was a place: a forest

if she was a food: spicy pho - motto: for the plot

favourite position in bed: on top/doggy

favourite part of her body: eyebrows, hips

what she looks for in boys: loyalty, someone stable, good manners, honesty.

tattoos: big flower on her back, her grandmas house on ribcage with ivy on it, lavander flower between breasts, dagger on right arm, wine glass and whisky sour ingredients. nike (goddess of victory) statue on left arm, goth looking stars and white ferrari doodle. oui, non written on both knees. heaven written on ankle made with stick and poke needle.

loves to talk about: time, space, her dog, humanity, world wars, greek mythology, vegan recipes, life after death.

do not talk about: her family, weight, fire, not being the best in school and at work.

she would like to: try hotpot, paint pottery, start a podcast, go on more hikes, visit thailand, get another dog, attend a wedding.

she will never: have kids, get married, go to australia, go skiing again after she fell, have plastic surgery, drink beer.

if you’d like to know more stuff about her let me know!!

notes: Salvatore, Salvo for short, is a common southern Italy male name. Salvatore means 'the saviour', Salvo means 'safe'. Full translation of the speech: 'Salvo, I wanted to hit him, this fucker. It went to shit Salvo, they sent me away like I was stupid, I went there I told them what I thought, he said we can't do that, who the hell are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?' 'Sorry, what did you say to them?' 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.'

'No, veramente? Il Fantasma' means 'no, seriously? The Ghost.'

notes: if you want to hear what the dialect sounds like you can hear it in the tv series 'Gomorra' on YouTube.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

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ghulehunknown · 1 year ago

Text

Terzo x F!Reader

Day 3 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING EXPLICIT - NSFW!**

Also available on AO3!

“Preparation is Key”

CW/Tags: nipple play, semi nudity, oral sex (blowjob), facial, light degradation, feminine reader, Terzo is in love with you teehee

Summary: Terzo has just been anointed as Papa and is leading a very special Black Mass sermon. Your duty is to give him a…helping hand.

Word Count: 1068

Terzo was leading Black Mass for the first time on his own tomorrow, and you’d been practicing your part for the sermon all week. Reading from the dark texts, kneeling, and some…other things.

Black Mass had consisted of Unholy Acts all month long; each week something more dark and twisted in the name of Lucifer. You hoped maybe, just maybe, that you’d be picked for next week too - the pleasures of cunnilingus. The ghouls had already performed the art of a threesome the previous week, with Sister Imperator speaking. As a Sister of Sin, you were honored to oblige and be part of this week’s depravity.

But right now was your turn to practice your art with him before Mass tomorrow evening. And you desired to please him so. Fucking. Much. You were kneeling on the marble floor of his office, eyes gazing upward as two clawed fingers found their way into your open mouth. You closed your eyes as you took them in, your tongue swirling around his leather gloves.

“Cara mia,” he whispered, grazing your cheek. Terzo unlaced the front of your bodice, revealing your breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cold air - or maybe it was just your nerves? Papa gently tugged your nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and index fingers. How could he be so cruel? He knew that drove you over the edge. You moaned quietly.

Terzo widened his eyes as a warning, stopped teasing you, and gave you a small clap on the cheek as your face flushed red. He tutted at you quietly, wagging a finger in your face. “None of that tomorrow, amore.”

You grabbed his waist and nuzzled into his crotch, teasing him.

“Puttana,” he half-laughed, before gathering composure again. He fell into old pattern and gently started grazing your face with his fingertips lovingly. Your heart skipped a beat whenever you felt his touch. He stopped and collected himself. “Oh merda, I cannot act like this tomorrow.”

You unbuckled Terzo’s trousers, hands shaking. “Like what?” you asked innocently as Papa traced your arm with his fingertip tenderly, giving you comfort. This wasn’t anything new to you; you’d given him pleasure many times before. But you never had an audience. And now he was Papa.

“Porca miseria! You must make me say it, Sorella? I cannot look like an old fool in love when I have a duty first as Papa. Sì, I am nervous as hell. There - happy?” He frowned, his hand on his hip.

You smiled. “So am I,” you said. Still looking up at him from your knees, you slipped the waistband of his black satin underwear over his hips and his cock bobbed over the edge.

You teased the head of his cock with your tongue; it glistened with precum in the dim flickering candlelight. He groaned, and tried to regain composure. “Oh cazzo,” he whispered. His eyelids fluttered as you began to take him whole. He grasped the back of your head and gently rocked you into him, moving rhythmically to your head bobbing up and down. He smelled like spearmint and cedar. He was also…bare? You sank deeper, and cupped his balls in one hand, the other grasping his firm ass. Yes, he was definitely waxed before this in preparation. The thought of your Papa, legs spread and yelling obscenities while getting his pubic hair removed almost made you giggle. No - no. You had to focus. You’d tease him about that later.

You and Terzo soon entwined, and you barely noticed your nerves from before. You looked up at him with nothing but love and adoration for your prince. You wanted to make him feel so fucking good, but you also didn’t want to outshine Papa in his moment tomorrow. His eyes were closed most of the way, but he caught your gaze. You fucking loved him, and he loved you.

You moved your mouth up and down on his shaft, trying to squat as daintily as you could, but you could feel your own cum slide down your thighs, turned on by Papa’s stifled moans. You began to use your hand to build up pressure with your tongue. He inhaled sharply. It was almost pathetic to see him so regal and composed. He moaned like an animal when it was just you two alone. “Amore! I need this whole fucking place to hear how wild you make me!” he would say exasperated when you would cup a hand to his mouth. This time he was silent, except for heavy breathing.

“Prendilo tutto in gola, mia principessa perfetta,” he guided you to hurry up. “Can’t have them thinking we’re in love, can we?” he said, chuckling lightly.

“Would that be so bad?” you asked with a smile, stroking him gently and kissing him down there.

“You would be seen as a distraction I’m afraid, mi amore. Maybe later, when I have been Papa for a while…” He started to lean down to kiss the top of your head, then straightened up.

You eyed him again and took him back in your mouth, still stroking him with your hand. You could tell he was close. You quickened your pace, taking him deeper in your throat, nearly choking. He gripped your ponytail tightly, guiding you. Suddenly - he pulled out and stroked himself once, twice, until his warm cum dripped all over your lips, down your chin, down your breasts.

You held your mouth open to clean off his tip, licking his delicious seed, craving more, craving his cock inside you. He gazed lovingly in your eyes, and held your chin in his gloved hand. “So good, amore,” he whispered. You wanted to kiss him and make him taste himself on your mouth, but you stayed kneeled as you knew you’d have to do during the sermon. You had never been intimate without kissing before and you missed his soft, painted lips on yours.

He quickly zipped and buckled his pants and looked at you, helping you back to your feet. “Thank you, sweet Sister. They’ll er - clean you off during the sermon tomorrow when I go back to the pulpit,” he continued, gesturing to his spilled seed all over your chest.

You smiled to yourself, pleased with doing your part well. And selfishly, you knew you were in for a treat back in your bedchambers. Because Terzo never took what he gave twice over.

Italian to English Translation

- Cara mia (my darling)

- Puttana (whore)

- Cazzo (fuck)

- merda (shit)

- Porca miseria! (For God’s sake!)

- Prendilo tutto in gola, mia principessa perfetta (take it all down your throat, my perfect princess

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