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writerpeach · 6 months

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Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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endless-ineffabilities · 12 days

Text

Official Business

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

a/n: I caved in and listened to the depraved gremlins in my mind. I hope you enjoy this official intro, you're welcome.

also, thank the gods for Rue (@peachysunrize) for creating the hottest gif of all time.

themes/warnings: language, barely-there smut, infidelity, unequal power dynamic, gross misuse of a fancy desk, getting involved with a politician (also gross)

main masterlist

Update! - upcoming series

President Aemond demands the company of his favourite reporter, whom he has been eyeing for quite some time.

You try to walk with your head held high, but your clammy hands and racing heartbeat betray your nerves.

“President Aemond wishes for you to grace his suite,” was all they said. They, being two imposing bodyguards in impeccably tailored black suits, occasionally touching their earpieces as if confirming orders.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and tentative. More importantly, why you?

They only shrugged, impassive. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President always gets what he wants.

You’d only spoken to President Aemond in your capacity as a reporter, part of the small circle allowed to amplify his words to the public. The first time was at the annual Westerosi Gala, where he arrived with First Lady Floris Baratheon on his arm. Your colleagues whispered incessantly about how the uncut footage showed his gaze barely straying from you, even with his stunning aristocratic wife beside him.

Your supervisor even had the footage edited. “You don’t need the media vultures swarming you,” he reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

Now, after covering yet another event in Highgarden, it seems you’ve been summoned for an exclusive interview in the President’s suite. You hope that’s all it is.

After all, you can’t be another victim of President Aemond’s wandering eye. Socialites like Alys Rivers and Lara Lannister had been publicly shredded after being exposed as his mistresses.

You never understood his affairs. They seemed so juvenile, reckless even for the youngest President ever elected. Barely thirty and in the highest position imaginable. And yet, what truly baffled you was why Floris stayed.

“Ma’am, the Presidential Suite,” one of the guards states as he opens a set of ornate ivory doors for you. “The President is waiting inside.”

Your feet move automatically, sparing you from blurting something that would inevitably fall on deaf ears. But as you cross the threshold, you turn and ask, “Will you be waiting to escort me back to – ”

The doors shut behind you. Of course.

The suite is grand – no expense was spared for the President. A perfect blend of classic Valyrian architecture, all white marble and gold accents. It’s more impressive than you could have imagined, having marvelled at the Highgarden Hotel from the outside for years.

“Come,” you hear a voice command, smooth and authoritative, from the room to the left of the main parlour.

You head in that direction, mentally steeling yourself. Just get this over with.

There he is, leaning casually against a wide desk, dressed sharply in a tailored blue suit and crimson tie. The moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows catches the scar across his left eye, the glint of his prosthetic eye giving him an almost sinister allure. The kind that draws people in despite themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t immaturity driving his affairs. Maybe he was just too beautiful to resist. You roll your eyes at the stupid thought, surprised with yourself.

“Something amusing?” His voice is tinged with laughter.

Gods, you just rolled your eyes in front of the President.

“N-no,” you stammer, immediately flustered. “I’m sorry, Mister President. It’s just... I thought of something funny. Not about you! I mean, I’m sure you can be funny, but - ”

“Relax, angel,” he chuckles, raising a hand to stop your rambling. The term “angel” lingers in the air, branding itself into your mind.

You quickly introduce yourself, fumbling through your full government name like a nervous schoolgirl.

“We’ve met before,” he reminds you, smirking. “Am I that forgettable?”

“No, I know we have,” you nod quickly, “just not in such a… private setting.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at your choice of words, and his gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that sends heat rushing through your body. He hums softly, and the sound settles uncomfortably low in your stomach. Gods, get it together.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mister President?”

“Aemond,” he corrects.

You nod, offering your nickname in return, but he only smiles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with ‘angel.’”

Weird, considering how this is your first proper conversation with him, you think, but nod regardless.

He gestures to the plush chairs in front of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You comply, smoothing your dress nervously. Thankfully, it’s modest enough – a safe choice that flows just above your knees.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice polite but edged with something else. Part of you wishes he’d just get to the point, but another part – one you’d rather not acknowledge – wants to stay, to drink in the sight of him. Aemond Targaryen, the most powerful man in Westeros, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m doing well,” you reply, your smile faltering under his heavy gaze.

He hums again, eyes dipping to your lips. That same maddening hum that sets your nerves alight.

“You must be wondering why I asked for you tonight,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted us to get better acquainted. You’ve caught my attention, angel. I find you… intriguing.”

“But you don’t know me,” you counter quickly, heart racing.

“I know more than you think,” he says, eyes narrowing playfully. “You studied at the Casterly Rock Institute for Journalism. Top of your class, until your grades dropped in your final year because you were taking care of your ailing aunt. That says more about you than any degree.”

He continues, “You’re an only child. Estranged from your parents, especially your mother, after she remarried. You’ve moved city to city since, keeping your distance. Avoiding attachments, especially romantic ones.”

You freeze, his words hitting too close to home. There’s an amused lilt to his voice at the end, and you desperately want to respond with a defensive retort, but you hold your tongue. You like your job after all. He’s the President. One call and he could have you right back in the unemployment pool.

“Am I correct?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

You manage a small nod. Damn him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask quietly, stunned. You wonder if there are hidden cue cards somewhere in the room, informing him of the details of your relatively uneventful life. There is no way he actually made the effort to memorise all these details about you. But then again, he is the Commander-in-Chief of the country. He must have trained himself to know everything about everyone. You’re not special – just another face in his immediate vicinity.

“I make it my business to know people,” he replies smoothly. “Especially those who interest me.”

He reaches out to take your hand, pulling you gently to stand before him as he perches on the edge of his desk. The proximity is intoxicating. “And you, angel, have caught my eye. You’re the object of my desire. Can you say the same of me?”

His words leave you breathless, the floor slipping from under you. You’re no better than the others, drawn into his orbit. “I’d be an idiot not to find you attractive, Aemond.”

He smirks. “I adore the way you say my name.”

“There’s nothing special about the way I say it.”

“There is,” he insists, his voice low and rough as his hand moves to smooth a stray hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” His expletive takes you aback, so unbecoming of someone of his status.

“I’m not a fool,” you shoot back, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I’ve heard about your... doings.”

“My doings?” He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You’re married obviously,” you say bluntly. “And you’ve had affairs. Women like Alys Rivers, Lara Lannister…”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve had lovers, yes, but my marriage is... loveless. Floris and I, we’ve always been an arrangement for political convenience.”

“That doesn’t justify anything.”

He steps closer, his eyes darkening. “I’m trapped. I can’t leave her. It would destroy my reputation. But she has her own lovers too.”

“And so you feel entitled to have yours?”

He breathes deeply, gaze unwavering. “Not just anyone. I want you, angel. Only you.”

You feel yourself dangerously close to giving in, especially when his gaze drops to your lips and he shamelessly licks his own. Desperate to stay composed, you ask, “Am I just another lover to add to your collection? I may be a lowly journalist compared to you, Mister President, but I have a reputation to protect too.”

“I know this, angel,” he whispers, his voice softer now, yet drawing closer with every word. “I’ll protect you.”

“Did you protect Alys? Or Lara? Or the others?” you challenge, though your voice falters.

“They orchestrated their own downfall,” he says coolly, his expression unreadable. “They used me for power. That was out of my hands.”

Oh. His words momentarily rattle your resolve, but you shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of the spell he’s weaving over you. “No, this is wrong,” you murmur, the words weak on your tongue. But his warm breath fans your face, luring you into the same madness he claims to feel.

“Is this wrong?” he whispers, his lips grazing yours – featherlike, teasing, barely there. Then, as if something shifts within him, he kisses you again, harder this time, his mouth pressing hungrily against yours. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat through your body as you teeter on the edge of reason.

You cave, for a few seconds, letting your lips dance with his own in a battle for dominance. You elicit a growl out of him, and he picks you up and swaps your bodies so that you are perched atop his desk.

“Gods,” he purrs, against the heat of your neck. “Sweeter than I imagined. You’re a fucking angel.” His gaze is arresting as his hands slide from your ankles to the hem of your dress, lifting it higher and higher until your moist panties are exposed to the cool air.

You collect yourself as if hit by a dizzying wave of whiplash, pushing him away with a sharp shove. “Stop – wait, Mister Pres – Aemond…”

He stumbles, lips swollen and slick, his good eye darkened, pupil blown wide. “Right, sorry…” His breath comes heavy as he averts his gaze, and you smooth your dress down, feeling the weight of the moment between you. He straightens, his posture stiffening as if suddenly remembering who he is. “I didn’t mean to push you, angel.”

“You didn’t –”

“It was wrong of me to –”

“Aemond,” you cut in softly, your hand slipping between you to squeeze his in reassurance. “It’s okay. I wanted it too.”

A genuine smile blooms on his lips, innocent and sweet, but it fades just as quickly at your next words. “But this can’t happen again. We can’t happen.”

"Why not?" His voice is low, measured, but there’s an edge to it. "Why can’t we? You say you wanted it too."

“We both know why,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You turn to leave, but hesitate just long enough to say, “Goodbye, Mister President.”

“Angel,” he calls softly, and it’s the only word he offers.

As you step out of his suite, the door closing behind you with a quiet finality, a thought begins to take root, unsettling in its persistence – he never actually said goodbye.

And deep down, you know this isn’t over. Something stirs in your chest, an uneasy certainty - while this is the first of these kinds of encounters, it won’t be the last.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee @decaffeinatedparadisepost @iloveallmyboys @inesdiary96

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @misssanzthings @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

Some notes in the margins...

Knowing me, this will inevitably turn into more than just a oneshot. Do bookmark this or my masterlist to keep updated! Or you may join the taglist using the link above ~

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen au #president!aemond #official business

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months

Text

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I had a panic attack in my kitchen the other day.

It was a really warm evening, I was making dinner in the kitchen and I noticed I felt a bit weird. At first I didn’t pay it much mind, I was probably just annoyed at having to stand at the hot stove in this weather, but then the thought crossed my mind “What if I falsely believe this is some harmless discomfort and I’m actually having a heart attack?” - and those of you who struggle with health anxiety as well can surely imagine it was all downhill from there. Suddenly I got dizzy and my chest hurt and I felt like I couldn’t breathe…

And I said to myself “These are all the symptoms of my usual panic attacks, these aren’t new or unusual symptoms that require me to get medical attention right now”, so I turned off the stove and did the first aid I learned works for my panic attacks:

I went to the fridge and got an ice cube and held it in my hand, until that sensory stimulation snapped me back to reality. And when I could think clearly again, I felt safe enough to do a deep breathing exercise and go through my “Why do I feel so shitty” checklist (checking for unmet physical needs I may not be consciously aware of), and I realized I was dressed way too warmly for the weather, so I changed into something lighter - and then I went back to making dinner. My “heart attack” was just me overheating and then my anxiety attaching a wrong interpretation to that.

That’s a pretty boring story, right? Nothing dramatic happened. But that’s exactly why I share it with you.

When you’re young and mentally ill (or if you have been freshly diagnosed with it, at any age), a common fear is that it’ll stay. You’ll be like this forever now, you’ll never go back to normal. And so positivity often focus on recovery, on “it’ll go away one day, you just gotta be strong until then”. And maybe it will! Mental illness is a pretty vast umbrella term, some conditions under it can be cured completely.

But I wanted to share another perspective here: even if it won’t go away, even if it indeed stays forever because it’s a chronic condition or a treatment-resistant one (or because you learn, after years of wondering why your depression and anxiety won’t go away with traditional therapy, that you’re actually autistic and need a completely different approach than a neurotypical patient (hi, it’s me)) .. it won’t feel like it did at the beginning forever, simply because it’s no longer so new. When it’s new, you have no blueprint on how to deal with it. It’s a situation you’re thrown into with no prior training - of course you feel completely lost and hopeless!

Mental illness is a real illness and as any illness, it’ll affect your daily life - but over all those days, you learn more about it. You try things to cope with the symptoms and realize that some techniques work better for you than others. Even if you can only learn to manage it rather than cure it: you figure out how to deal with it better. You draw your blueprint.

It’s still part of your life but it’s no longer the showstopper. It becomes just a boring story of stopping dinner to take care of your symptoms first. And that’s something to hope for, to fight for.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+#not actually lgbt specific but you know the deal by now #lgbt people are human beings etc

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hiddenonyx · 2 months

Text

Borrowing Their Clothes | Obey Me! Brothers

A/N: I have some writing done of this for the side cast, but it's not finished and I wanted to put something out. This is several months old and I think edited, but no promises lol written in second person, no mention of gender.

--------------

Lucifer honestly, didn't even notice that you had swiped something from his closet until he saw you in it. It was late at night and Lucifer, still ever working, decided to stop by the kitchen for another cup of coffee. When he saw the light already on, he had assumed it was Beel getting a head start on his midnight snacking. He was surprised to see you, getting yourself a glass of water when he turned the corner. He was even more surprised (and a bit flustered) to see that your choice of sleepwear is a too-big black dress shirt and matching underwear- wait a minute.

You can see the gears turning in his head as he slowly (either from the late hour or being flustered or both) figures out that it's one of his dress shirts you're wearing. You have to bite the inside of your check to resist snickering as he simply stands there, looking dumbfounded. Does he chide you for taking something of his? Does he fuck you? Does he say anything at all?

Mammon is the type of person who never remembers what stuff he has or where it is until he suddenly remembers and wants to wear it. Thus he's angrily digging through his closet for this one grey long-sleeved shirt. He could've sworn that he still had it and that it was here, with all the other shirts he had barely worn. Did Asmo comb through his closet again and take stuff? After almost ten minutes of angry searching, Mammon decides to hell with it - he'll just sulk all day, it's fine. He makes his way to the music room - maybe watching some TV will make him feel better. That's when he notices you, already watching TV, wearing that same exact grey long-sleeve shirt with black leggings.

"Oi!" he snaps at you, drawing your attention to him, "That's my shirt. Where'd ya get it?!"

You tilt your head at him slightly, "Your closet?"

"And what makes you think you can just root around in the Great Mammon's closet without permission, huh?"

You shrug, "You weren't wearing it."

"So?!" He gives his dumbfounded look as if he can't believe your logic.

"Well if you want it back that bad, you can come take it off me."

Levi keeps careful track of all his anime and fandom hoodies (they are one of his top three favorite merch items after all). So one could imagine his panic at the realization that he's missing one. At first, Levi hopes that he just forgot to hang it in its proper spot. But after going through every single one, the anger of the realization that it’s actually gone sets in. Did Mammon take it and sell it? He better not have or not even Lucifer will be able to help him! He storms out of his room, his demon form standing out from the other seeming humans in the house.

"MMAAMMOONN!"

"He already left for the casino," the voice that makes him pause is yours. You look up from the sitting room couch setting your book and mug down, "What happened this time?"

"That bastard took one of my hoodies and probably sold it —" he stops mid-sentence as you stand up, wearing the very same hoodie he's been looking for, "Where did you get that?"

"Huh?" You look down at yourself, "Oh this ended up in my laundry basket. It's cute so I figured I'd wear it, but I don't know who’s...it's yours, isn't it?"

A blush starts to creep onto his face as he nods and bites at the back of his hand to stop from squealing: you look so cute in it.

Satan is used to having his clothes "borrowed" by Asmo. He's used to walking into his room and seeing Asmo going through his closet to find something to finish his outfit or to peruse the fourth born’s shocking amount of sweaters. What Satan is not used to is walking into his room and seeing you trying on a thick, oversized, woolen sweater. He stands at the entrance of his room, watching as you hum thoughtfully to yourself as you twist back and forth in his full length mirror. He holds his breath, you haven't noticed him, nor did you hear him come in, and he doesn't want to startle you. He watches on in silence, a soft smile warming his face as he takes in just how cute you look. Maybe he'll let you keep it.

Asmo has no problem sharing clothes. Any kind, any style, he has at least five options for you. Mini skirts? Check? Ripped denim jeans? What wash would you like, darling? Honestly, it feels like half your closet is his closet - he doesn't have any problem just giving you his clothes. Asmo often buys clothing that he knows that both of you would like just so you two can share. You also find yourself sharing or even wearing clothes from Satan and Solomon, and even Mammon sometimes (huh who knew Mammon owned long-sleeved shirts?)

Beel will absolutely hand you his jacket because you mention that you're a little chilly and then completely forget that he did. He frowns a little as he looks around his room, confused as to where it's gone. Belphie didn't borrow it and isn't using it as a blanket...so did Asmo take it? But why would he? Asmo said that his jacket "wasn't quite his style" so where did it end up? Perhaps he left out in one of the common spaces? Beel hunts through each room before finding you in the planetarium, sitting on the floor, looking up, and wearing his coat. He snickers quietly - it's far too big for you; it swallows you up so that only your head pokes out. He rests against the doorframe, watching you watch the stars. He'll let you wear it for a moment longer.

Belphie is a little miffed when his daily sweater goes missing. It's not the first time something like this has happened - laundry occasionally gets swapped around in the house, but he could've sworn that he had gotten his sweater back this past laundry day. Maybe he left it in the attic? One tiring climb up the stairs and search around the attic later, Belphies sighs and pulls out his phone.

[House of Lamentation]

"Hey has anyone seen my sweater? I can't find it anywhere." -Belphie

"Did you check the laundry room?" - Lucifer

"Yeah, it's not there. Checked the attic too." -Belphie

"Actually you left it in my room the other day." -MC

"Oh. I'll come get it." [Thanks sticker] -Belphie

It's only a few minutes before Belphie knocks on your door. He blushes once you open your door, surprised to find you swearing his sweater.

"Thought I'd keep it warm for you," you tease.

----------------

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myzticbean · 7 days

Text

I love nothing in the world so well as you

Title: I love nothing in the world so well as you

Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: 18+ Explicit sexual content, PWP -- oral sex, fingering, shower sex, multiple orgasms. Basically, a lot of good sex :) Can also read at: AO3

Who would have thought? I mused, sitting propped up on a mountain of pillows in the extravagantly big bed in Sylus’ bedroom. The black silk sheets bunched around my waist (matching my black silk and lace negligee, courtesy of said man), the television a low hum of noise in the background while we both read our datapads.

Sylus had only been up for a few hours, while I was getting ready to crash - it was already way past my normal Linkon sleep schedule, and my body was telling me to give up the fight. But I just wanted a few more minutes…

Sighing, I threw away the datapad before noisily collapsing against his shoulder. “What are you reading?” I asked in belated interest, trying to peer down at the screen before he skillfully trapped me against his side with one arm.

He - much more calmly - put the datapad on the bedside table before he gathered me into his arms. I struggled to kick free of the sheets since he was laying on top of the bedding.

“Are you pouting, kitten?” he asked, and the huskiness of his voice never failed to send a little shiver of delight down my spine. I pretended to be offended by the ridiculous nickname, nipping at his shoulder.

“Why would I be pouting?” I asked, with what was definitely not a pout.

“Why, indeed?” he countered, staring down at me. The fireplace was crackling (it didn’t matter that it was summer and the air conditioning needed to be turned way down, because Sylus said it was the ambiance that mattered more than the electric bill), and the flickering light made the red tint in his eyes shine like a cat’s gaze in the otherwise dark room.

“I’ve fed you, watered you, played with you, what more could my kitten desire?” he questioned, his lip quirking in faint amusement at my very disgruntled expression.

I wallowed unhappily in his arms, flipping around so that my face was turned away from his even as I sprawled across his lap and chest. “Hmph,” I grunt, nestling my face deeper into his shoulder before giving him another bite. When I released it, I could see a damp patch in the dark dress shirt from the press of my tongue and teeth.

His breath stuttered, just a little, but I caught it and hid a pleased smile. I nuzzled into the firm muscles of his shoulder, drawing up my legs and hooking one knee over his, while the other slipped between his thighs. I slipped one hand behind his back in a loose embrace, my fingers smoothing along the crisp shirt at the base of his spine. The other hand I tucked underneath my chin, sighing.

Sylus wrapped his arms a little tighter around me, lowering his head to press the softest kiss against the crown of my head.

“What is it you need, sweetie?” he asked, his lips still buried in my hair and his warm breath puffing against my skin. His voice was almost painfully gentle. The heat, and the sweetness, made me squirm in pleasure.

“I’ve missed you,” I finally admitted, my face still turned away. “And you’ve been so busy…”

I trailed off, reminded a little of my original unhappiness. I wanted to bite him for a third time, but managed to resist.

“You were hurt,” he answered, and now his voice was firm and low. Deadly, even, for those who knew what to look for. “I’ve made sure it won’t happen a second time.”

I finally turned my head back towards his, peering up at his face from where I lay propped up on his chest.

“That’s what you were worried about?” I asked, somewhat surprised. Sylus hadn’t seemed that affected, and the wounds weren’t any worse than a typical Wanderer battle. I had been unexpectedly caught in the crossfire of a subway dispute in the N109 zone while on my way back to him.

When I helped citizens duck for cover, it was as I was sheltering a little kid that those losers took advantage of my distraction, a stray bullet zipping right over my shoulder. The shock and burn of the bullet took my breath away, but my muscle memory kicked in, and I turned, shooting the attacker in the chest. The fight had been quickly subdued after that.

“You could have been shot in the head if his aim had been just a little better,” Sylus said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” I said. I paused, before asking, “How did you know that?”

“I found the security footage.” His gaze was dark, his eyes lowered and watchful as he waited for my response. Mephisto had not been with me that day, so I figured there was a good chance my actions might have gone unnoticed (except for the exceptionally painful bullet graze).

“Ah.” Eloquent as always, I knew. “I didn’t want to worry you,” I admitted. I stroked my palm down his back, as if soothing imaginary ruffled feathers.

“That worries me even more.” His quiet voice was now even lower. “Does that mean something like this has happened before and you didn’t tell me?”

“Of course not!” I answered before my brain had even caught up with the question. “I mean, okay, I’ve gotten injured fighting Wanderers of course. But not when I’ve been with you.”

It seemed to settle some of his frustration, though obviously the idea of any injuries were distasteful to him. “You really need to be more careful, sweetie,” he finally grumbled after a long-suffering sigh. I muffled a laugh in his chest, my hand creeping up to cover my mouth as I leaned into his embrace.

“Why else have you been upset?” Sylus asked when my laughter settled, and I rested my forehead against his collar. I slipped both arms around his waist as he reclined back against the pillows propping us up.

“No reason,” I answered slyly, hiding a shy grin.

“I can feel you smiling, kitten,” he said with a smirk. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I wanted you to know that I was feeling better ages ago,” I admitted. His shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, exposed his throat and the barest glimpse of his chest, so I ducked in to press my lips to his hot skin. He always ran so warm.

“Oh?” he drawled. “How much better are you feeling now?”

“Very, very much better.” I didn’t even have bandages on my shoulder anymore.

“And what would you like me to do now that you’re feeling very much better?” His voice was husky and he was practically purring in my ear. I shivered, the warm puff of his breath and his deep baritone igniting all of my senses.

I drew back, withdrawing my arms from his waist to prop myself up on his chest. I shifted slightly, my leg now pressing up against his groin as I rode his thigh.

“I would very much like it if you would fuck me,” I said ( ahem , demanded), though a blush I couldn’t control immediately made my cheeks warm.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes heavy lidded and glowing in the firelight with dawning desire. “How?” he asked.

“What do you mean how?” I shot back, a little petulant.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” He shifted to brace his foot more firmly on the bed and bent his knee, grinding me a little harder onto his thigh as he lifted me slightly off the mattress. I gasped, collapsing forward onto his chest as I arched to press back against his thigh.

The thin black triangle of fabric between my legs did nothing to block the heat from his body, the smooth fabric of his pants adding a delicious friction as my thighs clenched around his. I wriggled a little, my hips shifting unconsciously to chase that sweet rub against my clit.

“Y-you know how I like it,” I finally answered, feeling a little dazed at how quickly my body was heating up. I was already getting damp, panties slick and tucked into the folds of my pussy. Without stopping to think (Sylus always said he preferred taking action, after all), I lowered one hand to shift my underwear to one side. With my negligee still tucked between us, he couldn’t quite see what I was doing, but I knew he could feel it as soon as I pressed my now bare pussy against the seam of his black slacks.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, licking his lips as his hands slid down to grip my hips. “Take what you want from me.” He adjusted his leg, adding a little more pressure as he rocked me harder against his thigh. I tried to stifle a moan, curling a little into his broad chest as my hands wandered down his stomach. I felt the muscles twitch and ripple even through his shirt. I was desperate to put my hands on his bare skin, but the teasing warmth while he was still fully dressed sent tingles of excitement through me.

My nipples tightened, clearly visible through the silk, the neckline dipping in a gentle wave against the small curves of my breasts. His bright gaze dropped to the teasing shadow.

“Pull down the straps. Slowly,” he ordered. I didn’t want to move my hands away from him, and I hesitated, my hands already near his belt.

“ Now , sweetie. Otherwise I’ll stop what I’m doing.” His hands tightened on my hips, a gentle warning.

I pulled away from him and he lowered his leg a little, allowing me to kneel on the bed. Sliding my hands up my thighs, ghosting over his hands on my hips, and teasing over the soft curve of my belly, I wanted to draw it out and torment him just as much as he was doing to me.

I smiled, a sultry, inviting curve of my lips that I knew he couldn’t resist. My fingers, pale against the midnight silk of my slip, teased every dip and hollow of my own body. My nail caught the edge of one nipple, tight and thrusting forward under his hot gaze, and I caught my bottom lip between my teeth.

It felt so good…and it had been so long since we had last played in bed thanks to my previous injury and his hectic travel schedule.

“Like this?” I whispered, my other hand coming up to cup the other breast, plumping it up as the neckline dipped dangerously low, the pale pink of one nipple now peeking above the fabric. With the other hand, I tugged at one slender strap and it slipped off my shoulder, delicately resting in the crease of my elbow. Immediately one side of the gown dropped, exposing one breast completely. The palm still fondling the other breast shifted, now covering the nipple from his gaze.

My nipple throbbed against my palm, and I imagined how hot and wet his mouth would feel, licking and sucking at my breasts. “If I take this off, I want you to use your mouth on me while I come on your thigh,” I tried to negotiate, my voice slightly strangled as I imagined it.

He cursed low under his breath, tipping his head back as he swallowed heavily. He slid his hands around to cup my ass, but blocked me from any further movement. I whined in protest, trying to lift my hands to wrap around his neck. I leaned forward, peppering frantic kisses to his adams apple, his neck, his collarbone, any skin within reach.

“How,” he started, swallowing again, “how do you want me to use my mouth?” His eyes speared me in place, and I shivered against him in response.

“I need you,” I whispered. “So much.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need,” he coaxed, his hands spasming against my bottom.

“I want you to lick my nipples, suck on my breasts, bite my neck,” I tried to say, but my breath was coming in little pants. He shuddered beneath me. “I want to feel your mouth everywhere. Anywhere.”

“Take it off,” he growled. “Right now.”

I immediately tugged at my nightgown, the delicate silk stretching and the seams crackling as I tried to whip it over my head. It got tangled briefly in my hair (embarrassing), but with a muffled chuckle, Sylus reached up with one hand to help tug me free.

I threw it off the side of the bed, and now Sylus could see the tiny straps of my thong and the fabric pushed to the side. Slick patches appeared on his black slacks and the skin of my thighs, the puffy folds of my pussy appearing pink and swollen already.

“Fuck,” he groaned. I had already made an absolute mess on his slacks.

“I’m not going to last long,” I moaned. I caught a glimpse of the hard outline of his cock trapped against his leg, and I knew he was just as desperate for me.

“Did you come when I wasn’t here?” I asked, picking up a smooth, gliding rhythm. “If you did, I won’t forgive you.” Between the heat and friction, I was already getting close, tingles of pleasure rushing through my veins.

“What would you do to me if I did?” He shifted, tugging me closer and tighter on this thigh, and now I could feel his cock pressing up against me through his slacks. I shuddered, a gasp escaping as I squeezed myself against the heated length.

“I…I would…not let you come tonight,” I grumbled, panting. “Now, you better kiss me, or I’m going to kick you out of bed and take care of it myself.”

“Oh?” he asked in disbelief, before tossing the question back to me, his tone mocking. “Did you come when I wasn’t there?”

“Twice every night,” I lied shamelessly before laughing at his twisted expression.

He lunged forward, holding me almost painfully tight as he kissed me deeply. He sucked my tongue into his mouth, before chasing and following it back into my own. Slick, wet and hot, all I could feel was the glide of his tongue exploring my mouth. I moaned, tilting my head back so he could thrust himself even deeper inside. I could feel saliva pooling helplessly in my mouth. He was drinking me in, briefly pulling away to swallow, and a thin string connected our mouths. Seeing it in porn was never a turn on, but with his mouth swollen and slick, it made me want to bite his lips mercilessly.

“Sy, darling, I’m going to die if I don’t come now,” I begged.

“We haven’t even gotten started,” he said, laughing low and rough. “Don’t give up so soon.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” I reminded him.

“I thought you said you’d been pleasuring yourself twice a night, sweetie. You don’t have any excuses,” he replied, his voice a little strained when I clamped tight around his thigh.

Instead of arguing with him further, I reached out, carding my fingers through his hair before clenching my hands into fists lightly, and tugging him insistently down. “Your mouth,” I reminded him, before I arched my back, pressing my breasts closer to his face.

Sylus bared his teeth in unspoken reprimand before he bowed his head, his heated mouth pressing against my skin. Darting out his tongue, he slicked a slow, meandering path along the top curve of one breast, before dragging his lips to the other. He lifted one hand to palm my flesh, cupping and plumping the weight. When he nipped at the delicate skin, a small red bloom was left behind as he moved slowly closer to my nipple.

It was just the right amount of pressure and release, small little bites soothed by strokes of his tongue. I writhed on his lap, riding both the heated press of his cock still trapped in his slacks and the thickly muscled thigh that flexed and lifted in time with my motions. I could feel my hips start to buck, small at first and then more wildly the closer I edged to climax just from the stimulation to my clit. I finally released his hair and reached down, pulling back the puffy flesh to expose the pulsing little nub and my drenched core.

He groaned when he saw my pussy, and he suddenly cupped my breast more firmly, taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking strongly. The pull at my breast combined with the heated press to my clit sent me over the edge, sparks shooting up and down my body. I clung to his shoulders and cried out his name, riding out waves of my climax.

I slumped, trembling, back into his embrace, the last shuddering flickers of my orgasm sending little licks of fire down my legs. “Oh my,” I sighed, nuzzling my face into his chest as I slid bonelessly down into his lap.

“Don’t quit on me now, sweetie,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he smoothed a palm down my back, soothing away the little aftershocks.

I laughed breathlessly. “Just give me a second, and I’ll be ready for round two, I promise.”

Sylus lifted me off his lap, settling me back onto the bed and half-propped up in the mountain of pillows at the headboard. He slipped my panties down my legs as I sprawled into the comfortable nest.

I glanced down at his slacks, reaching out to rub a finger in the soaked patch on his thigh. I tickled my fingers upwards to the second spot directly over his still-hard cock.

“Did you have fun, kitten?” he asked playfully, watching my fingers trail along his length.

“Mmhm,” I hummed, pleased with myself when he groaned and climbed to his feet beside the bed. Without comment, he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, baring his chest.

I licked my lower lip, eyes squinting in lazy admiration. He was so attractive, it should be illegal. I decided to tell him as such, which just made him laugh quietly. In moments, he had already shrugged off the shirt, unbuckled his belt and pushed down his slacks (he had apparently decided to go commando today), and his cock was finally freed, red and pulsing with need. The glimmering firelight shot streaks of orange and red glow across his skin.

“Sylus,” I whispered, opening my arms in invitation. He slid on the bed, crawling up to kneel before me and shifting forward so that my legs parted on either side of his hips. He sat back on his heels, thighs flexing, and he reverently smoothed his hands down my legs to my ankles.

His cock jutted up between us, thick and flushed. I couldn’t help but stare at the sight he made, looming over me, surrounding me with his muscled flesh and strong body. I felt so small, but protected, underneath him.

I slid my hands over his shoulders, lightly scoring his flesh with my nails just like a kitten he always said I reminded him of. Sylus grunted, a pleased sound, and he shifted even closer. He lifted one of my legs up and looped it over the crook of one arm, anchoring me in place, while he wrapped the other leg around his waist.

“Now sweetie,” he began as he positioned me gently. With my legs spread, I was completely exposed, knowing he could see just how wet and excited I was. He swallowed hard, looking me over as if he were a starving man suddenly presented with a banquet.

“I’m going to fuck you, and it’s going to be raw and hard,” he said almost conversationally, but his eyes, glimmering with barely-banked desire in the low firelight, belied the casual tone.

“Yes,” I whimpered, feeling another little pulse of liquid at my core. I knew he could see it, smell it, practically taste it in the sex-riddled air.

He crouched over, covering me, holding his weight off of me as he gave me a long, deep kiss. He still held my legs captive, and I clenched my thighs, wanting to press even more tightly against his body.

I settled more deeply into the pillows, and he released his hold on my leg wrapped around his waist to brace himself, hand near my ribs as we curled together. His other arm still held one of my legs up over it, keeping me spread wide and open to his hot gaze.

“I need you,” I said softly, pleading. I could feel myself dripping, the sheets damp beneath my body. Sometimes our evenings were nothing but long, extended foreplay; sweet, drugging kisses and hours of exploration.

But it had been so long, and my body was so primed, I felt ready to explode if he wasn’t inside me soon. The earlier orgasm had only taken the edge off, but I yearned for him. I hummed a little, a small purr I know drove him crazy.

His hips snapped forward, his dick pressed against my pussy, and wetted the length of it with my sex. He gave another small thrust, the head sliding past my clit before he withdrew and thrust again. “Get me wet, baby.” His voice was a low rumble of lust.

“Why are you teasing me?” I asked, the barest hint of a whine in my voice as I panted. He was so hot, his cock felt like a brand against my sensitive skin. I wanted to arch and wiggle to capture him inside of me, but with his vise-like grip holding me in place, I couldn’t move.

“I thought my naughty little kitten wanted to play,” he murmured, eyes lowered as he watched his cock tease my pussy. Tingles swept through me with each stroke, little shudders wracking my body. I was almost embarrassed by how wet I was. I could feel his thighs, bracketed under my legs and hips, slick with my arousal. I tilted my head back into the pillows, my shoulders and back arching as I brought one hand up to tweak my nipples, roughly tugging at the tender bud swollen from his mouth earlier.

With my free hand, I reached down between my legs, stroking the head of his cock as he pumped himself against me, coating the entire length with my fluid. He huffed, head dropping back as he briefly stilled, obviously trying to control himself. I swirled my fingertips over the spongy head, dipping briefly to the slit to swirl the beads of precum leaking from the tip.

He settled back on his heels, and using one hand, he slicked his fingers along the seam of my pussy. “So wet,” he murmured, sinking one finger inside of me. I cried out, the calloused pad of his finger igniting little flames as he pumped one finger, swirling it inside of me, stretching me gently but quickly. Without pausing, he added another finger, scissoring and thrusting them deeper.

“That’s enough, do it,” I said. I shivered over and over, my toes curling.

“No, sweetie, not just yet,” he said, his eyes locked on his fingers. He curled them, and I could feel another orgasm already building as he rubbed that perfect spot inside of me. I felt so full and empty at the same time.

“I don’t want to come like this, I want you inside of me,” I said, voice catching as I tried to swallow.

“I won’t let you, kitten,” he answered, a smirk twisting his lips. “You’re only allowed to come around my dick.”

“Sylus,” I hissed, and without answering, he added one more finger. I felt so full, his fingers long and large, but I know his cock will still spread me even further. The walls of my pussy clenched around the digits, and I could hear the sucking sound as he pumped inside of me, his fingers curling and stroking me. The pleasure felt like white hot flames licking at my skin.

Finally, I reached down and gripped his cock in my hand, leaving no room for him to pull away. “Fuck me, my love,” I demanded. I lined him up with my pussy. “No more waiting.”

I don’t know if it was the endearment (admitting my adoration for him always sent him into orbit, I thought fondly), or my handling, but he wasn’t playful anymore.

Instead, he thrust into me, deep and slow and filling every inch of me he could reach. His length and size caused the most delicious stretch and burn, no matter how ready I was. He lifted a little on his knees, bracing more heavily above me, his hand tight on my thigh as he pressed into me so deep I could practically feel him in my womb.

“Yes,” I hissed, the pleasant ache causing another rush of wetness to dampen between my thighs. He didn’t bother to answer, focused on my face and body and he continued to work his way into me, loosening my body with every rhythmic pump and withdrawal.

I let loose a throaty moan, my spine arching again uncontrollably, trying to bear down on his cock. My internal muscles flexed and spasmed, wanting to suck him deeper, the wet sounds growing louder and louder. As he pulled out, I whimpered in loss before he flexed forward to fill me once more.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” he asked, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead from his restraint.

I propped myself up, curling forward a little to rest my hands on his shoulders. I could see him now, his cock red and angry, sliding into my body, and I felt full to bursting. The pleasure was almost unbearable, as I watched his cock, wet from my juices pull out of me before thrusting back into my stretched, pink pussy. I could feel my body trembling around his flesh.

“Yes, yes, more,” I begged, my eyes glued to where we were connected. I had wanted to give him a deep, lingering kiss, but I was so distracted by the erotic sight, I could hardly focus. I missed the tight grin twitch at the corner of his mouth before he bit his lip roughly. A hint of red appeared on his lip before he licked it away.

He thrust forward, harder and faster than before, pistoning in and out of my body. I flopped back into the nest of pillows, eyes hazy from pleasure. I panted heavily through my mouth, my entire body jerking with each rough thrust he pounded into me. He bent over, curling me into a little ball since he still held one leg captive, his tongue fucking into my mouth in the same rhythm as his cock. Saliva dripped from the corner of my mouth as I moaned around his tongue, the sucking sounds of my pussy growing louder and louder.

Every ridge, every vein, I felt like I could feel every curve of his cock, electricity sparking along my spine. My toes curled when he finally let go of my leg, and I wrapped it tightly around his hips and waist, leveraging myself up into his lap.

His thighs flexed with each pump, his body bracing mine off the bed so he could get an even deeper angle. His pubic bone bumped roughly against my clit each time he bottomed out, my pussy sucking him deeper as he curved against the perfect spot, igniting my body to a fever pitch.

He reached down between my legs, thumbing my clit roughly. There was no gentle stimulation, and I was still so sensitive from my first orgasm, it was pleasure that edged into pain. I trembled, crying out tearfully.

“More, more,” I pleaded, sobbing. He strummed my clit again, thrusting into me even more deeply, little growls rumbling in his chest as he stared down at me. I writhed, almost violently, at the sharp sparks of electricity that shot through my body. My thighs tightened, ankles crossing behind his back as I tried to press back into his hips on each thrust.

“I want you to come now,” he demanded, his voice husky and tight with pleasure, and without warning, two calloused fingers tightened on my clit, the pressure pushing me into another immediate orgasm. I could feel my clit pulsing between his fingertips, my cunt clamping down on his cock so hard I think we both saw stars. I screamed my pleasure, trembling and crying. I could feel his cock pulsing once, twice, pumping furiously into my spasming pussy, before a gush of hot fluid filled me inside. The pressure of his dick, the painful swelling of my clit, and the warmth of his release prolonged my orgasm, breathlessly crying out his name over and over at the stimulation.

“That’s right kitten, let me hear you,” he purred, leaning down to lick at the tear tracks on my cheeks. He pulsed forward, plugging me so tight I felt like I was going to burst. He was still hard, cock twitching inside of me.

I moaned, throat hoarse. “Darling, I…”

“One more time,” he coaxed, his voice a low rumble that sent a throb of pleasure through my core. I instinctively tightened again, and he muffled a groan.

“I can’t,” I gasped. “I’m too sensitive.”

“I know you can, sweetie,” and his voice was so guttural with need I couldn’t stop the shudders wracking my body. “Look, I won’t even move,” and as he stared hotly down at me under him, I could feel his still-hard cock flexing inside of me.

“Oh, oh,” I moaned, my hands still clenching and releasing on his shoulders, kneading him unconsciously in time with each twitch. I wanted to twist my hips, but his hand had left my clit to return to my waist, holding me in place.

“I thought you were too tender,” he tutted, his tone now a little playful in his post-orgasmic haze. “How about this instead?”

With one smooth motion, he flipped us both so that I now lay on my side, half-propped on the pillows while he lay curled behind me. He entered me again before I had time to catch my breath, this angle now deeper and more pointed inside of me.

I grunted, my body baring down on him again and there was a little gush of fluid between my legs, a mixture of his semen and my climax. The silk bedding was wet and a little warm under our bodies.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured in my ear, my head pressed back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. One of his hands cupped my breast, kneading the tingling flesh before giving the nipple a pinch. My hands smoothed along the arms bracketing me, and I lifted one leg to prop over his knee. He hummed in appreciation. “How does that feel?”

“Not bad,” I answered, hiding my grin as he gave a sharp little thrust behind me. As I stared down my body, all I could see was his cock disappearing inside of me, my pussy stretched tight around him.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetie,” he said, nipping my ear in reprimand. He went still, but I could feel him flexing inside of me again, right against that sweet little spot that never failed to make sparks quiver along my nerves.

I gasped quietly. “Really, really good,” I finally answered. I reached down, feeling the length of him against my thigh and rubbed my fingers where we connected. He shuddered this time, unable to help giving me an extra pump as my fingertips swirled along his cock.

“Don’t tempt me, kitten,” Sylus grumbled, his breath puffing along the sensitive curve of my ear. “I want to take my time.” He gave my ear a sweep of his tongue before he tugged at my earlobe with a light grip of his teeth.

I settled back more firmly into his embrace, my hips and back arching to press my backside into his groin. I wiggled with a tiny, breathless laugh.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his lips drifting in a light kiss over my ear, then my cheek and my temple. His heartbeat was thumping steadily against my back.

“Mmm,” I hummed happily, closing my eyes. “Missed you, too.” I felt cocooned in his warmth, my hands resting against his forearms.

He curled his thighs along the back of mine, snuggling me deeper into the curve of his lap as he propped himself up on one arm, leaning over me. He touched my chin, turning my face to meet his as he kissed me deeply, his teeth nipping at my lips until they parted, his tongue smoothly entering my mouth in a long, sultry caress. My tongue darted out shyly to meet his, my kitten-like swipes teasing him to enter further. All of my senses were drowning in him -- his fiery taste, that slightly smokey scent from his favorite brand of cigarettes, and the heat and strength of his body.

When he finally released me, I was panting weakly for breath and my nerves were so sensitive, even the whisper of air from the fan above us sent a small jolt through my body. I licked my lips, damp and swollen from his kisses.

“Sylus,” I whisper longingly. He gave a slow pulse inside of me, hardly moving, but I clenched as if he had pounded into me. My skin was tingling, small goosebumps prickling along my legs as he dropped one hand to flutter it over the soft skin of my belly.

“What do you want, sweetie?” he asked again, but this time his voice was a deep, slow drawl of pleasure.

I didn’t answer, rubbing my face back into the pillow, my body softening and a little tender now that the initial flush of arousal was spent. I flexed my muscles around his still-hard length inside of me, hearing the soft, wet sound. I flushed, faintly embarrassed by the noise.

“Hmm, I know what you need,” Sylus answered himself, slowly withdrawing. I whined, not ready to stop just yet, but with the cooling moisture between our bodies, I was starting to get uncomfortable. He lifted me into his arms, cradling me as he slid smoothly off the bed.

I peppered his face with soft kisses, brushing his lips, chin, and throat. “My kitten is always so cuddly after she’s been pleased,” he chuckled, catching my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle nip as he shouldered open the bathroom door.

“Meow,” I purred playfully, pretending to bat at his shoulder. He moved into the large bathroom, settling me on my feet by the walk-in shower, flipping the handle to warm up the water. I clenched my thighs, a sticky feeling between my legs. His gaze was deep and dark, his eyes drifting down to the glimmer of fluid staining my thighs.

He stepped away to fiddle with the lights, a softer illumination compared to the usual brightness. I stepped into the shower and he puttered around gathering towels, hiding a shy smile as he grabbed a washcloth to clean himself off.

“Grab me a hair tie, darling?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard above the water. I didn’t want to have to dry my hair again before crashing into bed. I let the hot water sluice down my body, fingering the ache between my legs as I gently rubbed away the sticky fluids. I quickly cleaned myself up.

When Sylus entered the shower behind me, he twisted my hair up into a bun, careful not to roughly tug the strands.

“Let me do it,” he murmured gently, reaching over my head for the body soap settled on the ledge. I could hear him lathering the soap as I faced into the spray, and he tugged me out of the water to lean back against his chest, sliding his long, soapy fingers across my collarbones.

I let out a happy sigh as he kneaded my shoulders before slipping down my arms, rubbing in circles and long, smooth swipes of his hands. He tangled his fingers with mine, lifting them to press a quick kiss to the back of my hands before he let go and cleaned my fingers one by one.

His palms and fingers, rough with callouses from boxing and weapon training, swept over my body, massaging my muscles and digging into sore spots I didn’t even know I had. He turned me around in the water spray, kneeling in front of me as he palmed the length of my legs before he whispered for me to spread my legs.

Gently swiping his hand along the seam of my flesh, he gently petted and soaped my thighs before he traced his thumbs higher. My head nodded to the side, watching him as he glanced back up to meet my eyes. I propped one foot up on the shower bench, reaching down to spread the tender, puffy lips of my pussy. I was flushed pink, a little sore, but still hungry for him.

He rinsed the suds away before he palmed my butt and tilted my hips forward towards his hungry mouth. He licked at my clit, lapping at it gently, before tracing his tongue down my pussy, sliding wetly between the lips. I could feel the slick, slightly rough pad of his tongue as he buried it further, pointed and hot and nimble. He swallowed, his tongue darting forward to lap at my shivering little hole, tracing the rim with warm strokes. He thrust it forward, surprisingly deeply, as I cried out, sliding my hands through his hair to grip his head. I cupped my hips forward, begging him wordlessly to dive even deeper inside of me.

He slipped in two fingers next to his tongue, one hand still holding onto my butt to help rock me forward into his mouth. I slipped the foot that was on the bench over his shoulder as he crouched in front of me, wrapping my leg tightly over his back. He grunted in pleasure, his mouth busy sucking and licking at my pussy, his nose nudging at my clit as he finger and tongue-fucked me until I was dripping. I moaned, clenching my fingers tightly in his hair as I rubbed myself off on his tongue and fingers.

“I’m so close,” I said, my breath stuttering in time to my hips bucking against his face.

“Not yet,” he commanded, pulling away despite my protest to pick me up in his arms. He stepped away from the spray, my back now against the tiles as I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his shoulders.

He didn’t even give me time to suck in a breath at the chilly tiles, thrusting into me deeply. I didn’t feel the burn this time, just a wonderful, aching fullness stretching me. He was diamond hard, rocking shallowly at first before bottoming out with one or two thrusts, buried all the way inside. He did it over and over, building my orgasm.

I cried out, calling his name, trying to stretch it out as long as possible. I could feel it hovering just within reach, so close, and I sobbed as my pussy clamped down. I went wild, my hips bucking as he pounded into me, his own groan muffled as he bit down on my shoulder hard. I could feel the imprint of his teeth and tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, so good, oh my god, I’m gonna-” I could feel it, the absolute shattering as I climaxed so hard I squirted, the fluid splashing on his belly as I writhed in his arms. He followed me a few thrusts later, his teeth still gripping my neck and shoulder as he fucked me hard through his own orgasm.

I went boneless in his arms, aftershocks quivering through me as I pulsed around his cock, his hot come filling me up so full, I could see my stomach getting tight. He thrust up, once again keeping it inside of me, plugging me so tight I could practically see the outline of his dick.

“Sy, love, I’m so full,” I said, leaning my head back against the tiles in exhaustion. He twitched, still hard.

“No, no more,” I said as he finally stood upright, admiring the deep bite on the curve of my neck and shoulder.

“Are you positive?” he asked, not moving. I hung limply in his arms, my arms draped over his shoulders. “I can go all night long. It’s been so long, don’t you remember?”

“Absolutely not,” I groaned, pushing at his shoulder. The shower was still running, and I needed to clean myself off - again .

He didn’t argue, slowly lowering me to my feet, and gently guiding me into the spray. He grabbed more soap, squirting some into my hand and his own, before he quickly wiped himself down. He angled himself into the spray, rinsing off before he stepped out, wiping himself roughly with a towel as he grabbed his robe and left to brush his teeth at the sink.

I quickly cleaned myself off, and then stepped out of the shower into the towel he had open for me, wrapping me up in the thick terry cloth and his extra warm embrace. I snuggled into his arms. My hair was a little damp from the stray water spray, but not enough to require me to dry it tonight. I nuzzled into his chest, the silk of his robe smooth and cool against my flushed cheeks.

“Let me finish up, I’ll come help you change the sheets,” I murmured, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before I went to step up to the sink, still wrapped in my towel.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said, voice low and untroubled. He didn’t give me a chance to argue, just slipping out of the bathroom.

I finished getting ready for bed before tiredly walking back into the bedroom in a matching (albeit much smaller) couple robe and nightgown. He had already swapped out the bedding, the sheets now a soft red jersey and an extra blanket thrown over the foot of the bed on top of the silky comforter. I clambered back on the bed, settling in with a deep, comfortable sigh as he fluffed the pillows and tucked me under the covers.

Sylus pulled me into his arms, bundled in the blankets, while he lay on top of the bedding. He hadn’t gotten dressed yet, but I knew he would duck into the closet for a new set once I had fallen asleep.

I cuddled into his arms, my face pressed against his neck, breathing softly. I pressed a kiss against his warm skin, smiling sleepily.

“I love you,” he said, low and warm against my ear as he curled around me. He lifted my chin, giving me the sweetest, gentlest kiss I’ve ever received. I could feel tears prick my eyes, and I swallowed, trying to express everything I felt for him in my return kiss.

“I love you, too,” I answered, staring up at him in the dim firelight still flickering.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy,” he said, stroking my hair away from my face, his red gaze capturing mine.

We lay like that, simply watching each other in the low light until my eyes grew so heavy, I could barely keep them open. I yawned, curling into the pillows, warm and comfortable and safe.

“You already do,” I murmured, my voice slowly starting to fade. “So…much.”

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #fanfiction #lads #lads sylus #sylus #smut #love and deepspace x you #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x reader

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spicymambaae · 3 months

Text

Bangkok Nights: Secret Longings

It was already late at night in Bangkok. The city hummed with an undercurrent of energy, even at this hour. Neon lights flickered outside, casting a colorful glow into the hotel room where Minjeong was leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone. She was dressed in jorts, a crop top that barely covered her chest, and a white, long-sleeved unbuttoned blouse, her perfect flat tummy exposed. The day's schedule had been grueling, but now she was finally back, trying to unwind.

As she scrolled through her social media, her mind wandered to Karina, who had also been busy with her own schedules. Minjeong hoped that Karina would return soon; she longed to feel her presence after a tiring day.

Just as her thoughts drifted, the door creaked open quietly, and Karina stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on Minjeong. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw her girlfriend still up. "I thought you would be already asleep," Karina whispered, her eyes taking in Minjeong's alluring figure.

Minjeong's eyes sparkled as she saw Karina enter. Her heart fluttered at the sight of her girlfriend, looking as radiant as ever despite the long day. “I wanted to wait for you so we can go to bed together," she replied, her voice laced with affection.

Karina’s heart swelled with love at Minjeong’s words. She approached Minjeong slowly, each step filled with the longing that had built up over the course of their separate schedules. "I missed you all day," she murmured, her hands finding their way to Minjeong's shoulders.

She let her fingers glide down Minjeong's arms, gently sliding the blouse off her shoulders. Karina's eyes lingered on Minjeong's exposed tummy, biting her lip as her fingers traced the smooth skin. She squeezed Minjeong's waist, drawing a soft gasp from her. "You have no idea how much I thought about you today," she whispered, her lips mere inches from Minjeong's.

Their eyes locked, a silent communication passing between them. Minjeong leaned forward, her lips parting to capture Karina's in a kiss, but Karina playfully pulled away, a smirk tugging at her lips. Minjeong smiled, undeterred, and leaned in again, only for Karina to pull away once more, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"You're not making this easy," Minjeong pouted playfully, her lips curling into a smile that mirrored Karina's own.

"I guess you missed me too," Karina teased, watching as Minjeong's playful pout turned into a mock glare, though her eyes betrayed her amusement.

"Maybe a little," she admitted, her hand finding its way to Karina's face, her fingers caressing it gently.

Karina smirked as she leaned forward, their lips brushing in a tantalizing promise. "Just a little?" she murmured against Minjeong's mouth, her kiss deepening with a hunger that had been building all day. The kiss was full of hunger and lust. They kissed like they couldn’t get enough, like they were starving for the taste of each other.

The room was filled with the sounds of their breaths and the soft, wet sounds of their kisses. The city outside continued its never-ending rhythm, but inside this room, time seemed to stand still.

Minjeong's hands found Karina's waist, but Karina was quick to grab one of them, pinning it against the wall. She wanted to take control, to explore every inch of Minjeong's body at her own pace. She trailed kisses along Minjeong's jawline, down to her neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin.

"Careful," Minjeong whispered breathlessly, her body tingling with the surge of sensations. "We have a photoshoot tomorrow. No marks."

But Karina was beyond caring. Her need for Minjeong clouded her usual rationality. "Let them see," she murmured against Minjeong's skin, her hands roaming lower, cupping Minjeong's backside and pulling their bodies flush against each other. "Let them know you're mine."

Minjeong sighed softly, her resistance slowly melting away in the face of Karina's relentless ministrations. "You're gonna get us in trouble," she whispered, her voice laced with surrender.

Karina paused momentarily, her lips hovering just above Minjeong's skin, her gaze flickering up to meet Minjeong's eyes. "Tell me stop then." she challenged, her tongue flicking out slowly to lick Minjeong's sensitive spot on her neck. She knew all too well that this was her weak spot.

And that was all it took for Minjeong to fully surrender to Karina, letting out a low moan that vibrated on Karina’s lips.

Karina's lips traveled back up to Minjeong's, capturing them in another searing kiss. Minjeong responded eagerly, her body pressing against Karina's. Their tongues tangled and twisted, dancing erotically, tasting and teasing. Lips crushed against each other, soft and full, mouths opening wider as they dive into their intense craving. The heat between them was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark with every touch. Their kisses grew more feverish, lips bruising under the force of their need for each other. Hands roamed freely, caressing and exploring, fingers tangling in hair and tracing the curves of each other's bodies.

They broke apart briefly, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath, their hearts pounding in unison. Minjeong looked into Karina's eyes, her own filled with a mixture of love and lust.

"Please..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Karina smiled, her fingers gently caressing Minjeong's cheek. "I know, baby," she murmured, her lips brushing Minjeong's in a quick, tender peck.

Karina's lips then trailed lower, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin of Minjeong's collarbone. Her hands roamed possessively over her body, claiming every inch as her own. Minjeong arched into the touch, her breath coming in short gasps as Karina's lips continued their descent. Their passion was all-consuming, burning away any inhibitions or concerns about the coming day.

Minjeong's skin tingled with anticipation as Karina's lips hovered over the curve of her breasts. "Karina," she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. Karina's hands moved to Minjeong's crop top, sliding over the soft fabric and feeling the firmness of her breasts. But what surprised her was the absence of a bra; Minjeong's nipples, hard and erect, pebbled against the thin material.

"No bra?" Karina asked, a hint of delight and surprise in her voice. Minjeong just smiled, her eyes half-lidded with desire, inviting Karina to explore further. Karina wasted no time, pulling the crop top down to expose Minjeong's breasts. They were perfect, with rosy nipples that begged for attention.

Karina's thumb found its way to Minjeong's mouth, and Minjeong obediently licked it, making it glisten with her saliva. Karina then used that same thumb to rub Minjeong's hard nipple, teasing it until it was even harder. Minjeong’s breath hitched as Karina lowered her head, taking the neglected nipple into her mouth. She sucked and teased it with her tongue, her eyes never leaving Minjeong's.

Minjeong's hands tangled in Karina's hair, pulling her closer, urging her on as she relished the delicious sensation. Karina suckled and nibbled, her thumb continuing to rub Minjeong's other nipple, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Minjeong arched her back, offering herself fully, her breath catching in her throat as the sensations intensified. Her pussy throbbed with need, aching for Karina's touch.

"God, I love how responsive you are," Karina whispered, her breath hot against Minjeong's skin as she teased her swollen nipple with her tongue. Minjeong was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body on fire. Every touch and lick sent shocks of delight straight to her aching pussy. Karina's mouth trailed kisses across Minjeong's chest, worshipping her breasts, her lips and tongue leaving no inch unexplored.

Minjeong's breath quickened, and her body trembled as Karina's mouth switched between her nipples, sucking and licking them to a peak of sensitivity. "Karina..." she moaned, her voice thick with need. Karina smiled against Minjeong's skin, loving the effect she had on her girlfriend. She continued her sensual assault, her mouth and hands working in tandem to drive Minjeong wild.

The pleasure built within Minjeong, an intense coil of sensation that suddenly snapped, sending her over the edge. Her knees buckled as an intense orgasm washed over her, and would have collapsed on the floor if not for Karina's strong hold on her waist.

"Wow... my God..." Minjeong breathed, her body still trembling as the waves of pleasure receded.

Karina couldn't help but admire how adorable Minjeong looked when she came. As she lowered herself to her knees, she planted kisses all over Minjeong's tummy, licking and nibbling, leaving marks and wet traces as evidence of her hunger for her girlfriend. Her hands roamed lower, dipping into the waistband of Minjeong's jorts. With deft fingers, she unbuttoned and unzipped the shorts, sliding them down Minjeong's legs, revealing her small white bikini.

But what truly took Karina's breath away was the sight that greeted her. Minjeong's bikinis had become transparent from her wetness, the fabric clung to Minjeong’s body, outlining her swollen clit. Karina's mouth watered, and she couldn't resist leaning in to lick through the wet fabric, tasting Minjeong's essence. Minjeong gasped at the sensation, her hands roaming the wall for support as her knees weakened once again.

“I can’t wait to taste your delicious pussy,” Karina murmured with her raspy voice. With gentle fingers, she hooked into the waistband of the panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing Minjeong's smooth, shaved pussy. Karina inhaled sharply, her mouth watering at the sight of Minjeong's folds.

She placed soft kisses on her inner thighs, her breath tickling the sensitive skin. Minjeong whimpered, her legs shaking as Karina's lips hovered tantalizingly close to her pussy.

"Please, Karina," she begged, her eyes pleading to finally feel her girlfriend’s tongue.

Karina gently spread Minjeong's legs wider, exposing her glistening folds. She blew a soft breath over Minjeong's pussy, making her shiver and whine softly.

Finally, Karina closed her lips around Minjeong's clit, sucking gently and swirling her tongue over the sensitive bud. Minjeong cried out, her hands gripping Karina's shoulders as pleasure washed over her. Karina moaned softly, the vibrations of her voice sending shivers through Minjeong's body. She continued her oral assault, licking and sucking Minjeong's sweet nectar, her hands gently caressing Minjeong's thighs and stomach.

Minjeong writhed and moaned. "I love it when you lick my pussy," she panted, encouraging Karina to continue her delicious torture.

Hearing Minjeong's words, Karina paused, looking up at Minjeong with a playful glint in her eyes as she nibbled on her clit. "I love your taste. I could eat your pussy all night," she said breathlessly.

Karina took Minjeong's leg and placed it on her shoulder, inviting Minjeong to grind her pussy on her tongue. "Grind your pussy on my tongue, baby. I know you want to," she teased, her eyes dark with lust. Minjeong was incredibly turned on, and she obliged, placing her hand on Karina's head and slowly grinding her pussy on Karina's tongue.

This was Minjeong’s favorite view—Karina on her knees, her pretty face buried in her pussy, her sparkling big eyes looking up at her as her tongue flicked and teased her clit. "I love your mouth so fucking much, please don't stop," Minjeong gasped, her hips moving faster, her wetness coating Karina's face.

Karina was drunk on Minjeong's taste, closing her eyes to savor the moment and the flavor of her girlfriend's arousal. She increased her efforts, sucking harder and flicking her tongue faster over Minjeong's clit. "Cum for me, baby," she moaned, her tongue delving deep into Minjeong's folds, tasting her juices.

Karina drove her tongue deep into Minjeong's tight pussy, fucking her with her mouth. She swirled her tongue inside, coating it with Minjeong's sweet essence, her own chin dripping with Minjeong's wetness. She moaned, the vibrations on her pussy driving Minjeong wild. Karina devoured her pussy, wanting to taste every inch of her.

"Let me see how beautiful you look when I make you cum," she whispered, her tongue never stopping its assault.

Minjeong cried out, her body tensing as an intense orgasm ripped through her. She screamed Karina’s name, her juices flowing onto Karina's tongue.

Karina lapped up Minjeong's sweet release, gently kissing and sucking on her sensitive clit and pussy lips, milking every last drop of cum from her. Minjeong whimpered, her body trembling, her legs weak from the intensity of the orgasm.

Karina helped Minjeong sit down on the floor, pulling her into her lap and holding her close. Minjeong was still breathing heavily, her body still buzzing. Karina held her gently, stroking her hair and whispering soft words of affection.

Minjeong, her voice small and breathless, whispered, "Kiss me," and Karina smiled, gently tilting Minjeong's jaw to the side and capturing her lips in a deep kiss full of want. Minjeong moaned into the kiss, tasting herself on Karina's tongue.

Suddenly, a jolt went through Minjeong's body as Karina's hand inadvertently brushed against her sensitive pussy. "Ouch, too sensitive," she whimpered, and Karina immediately pulled her hand away.

"I'm sorry, baby," she soothed, gently caressing Minjeong's body with feather-light touches. But then, a moment of panic crossed Karina's face, and she muttered, "Oh shit."

Minjeong, sensing something was amiss, turned her head slightly and asked, "What's wrong, baby?"

Karina reached for Minjeong's phone and turned on the front camera, revealing the hickeys that covered Minjeong's body.

Minjeong gasped, her eyes widening at the sight. "You're so dead," she said, a playful threat in her voice.

Karina's face took on a mischievous grin as she realized the extent of her love bites.

"Oops?" she offered, feigning innocence.

Minjeong shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You know we have a photoshoot tomorrow. How am I supposed to hide these?" she asked, her tone both fond and frustrated.

Karina bit her lip, a hint of guilt in her eyes. She pulled Minjeong closer, burying her face in her neck. "I got carried away," she murmured, her voice muffled against Minjeong's skin. "I couldn't help myself. You taste too good, and your body is just..." she trailed off, pressing a gentle kiss to each hickey, as if to soothe the marks away.

Minjeong laughed softly, her fingers tangling in Karina's hair. "I guess I'll have to try to hide them with make up tomorrow. AGAIN!" she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Or maybe I'll just tell them I walked into a door or something," she added. Karina chuckled, her breath warm on Minjeong's skin.

"Or you could just tell them the truth," she teased, her lips brushing against Minjeong's ear. "That your girlfriend couldn't keep her hands off you."

Minjeong smiled, snuggling closer into Karina's embrace. "I guess they'll have to deal with it," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Besides, who could blame you?" She placed a soft kiss on Karina's jaw, her fingers gently tracing the lines of Karina's face. "I love you," she whispered, her eyes full of love.

Karina held Minjeong tightly. "I love you too,” she replied, placing a soft kiss on Minjeong's forehead. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their encounter.

Eventually, they would have to face the world and the challenges of hiding the marks, but for now, they existed in their own little bubble, lost in the warmth of their embrace and the sweetness of their love.

#aespa #aespa smut #winrina smut #jiminjeong smut #karina smut #aespa winter smut #aespa karina #aespa winter #kim minjeong #yu jimin #lovey: one shots

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bellaveux · 1 year

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more fuckgirl!wanda x reader , can we have wanda show her protective dom side

OFF LIMITS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda hates the way everyone is ogling at you, and makes sure to remind everyone that you are, very much, off limits.

content warnings: minors dni please. college au!, fuckgirl!sorority president!wanda, dom!wanda, jealousy, possessiveness, bottom!reader, smut! – mirror sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, fingering, marking/hickeys

word count: 3.28k

note. writing feels kinda all over the place am sorry,, i went both protective and possessive (they sometimes confuse me while writing loool) but i hope u enjoy it and ty for request!

Wanda was both a woman of contradictions and a force to be reckoned with. On one hand, she was a disciplined and hard-working leader, respected by her peers and admired for her dedication to the sorority. On the other, she was a party animal, a woman who loved nothing more than to let loose, have a good time, and charm women left and right. No doubt was she popular, with everyone from the freshmen to the seniors looking up to her as a role model. Her energy was infectious, and her spirit was unstoppable, as she flitted from one party to another, always with a smile on her face and a drink in her hand.

And her game was undoubtedly unmatched. With the tiniest twinkle in her eye and a sultry smile on her lips, Wanda could make even the most stoic person melt with desire. She was the object of desire for many who crossed her path, making her popularity with everyone on campus legendary, people drawn to her like a magnet. Enjoying the game of love, teasing and tempting those around her, she loved the attention, and always knew how to charm and seduce with ease. Her flirtatious nature was a part of her, an extension of her personality, and it was something that she enjoyed using to her advantage. It was a game that she played with finesse and skill, a dance of words and gestures that left those around her breathless and wanting more.

But while others voluntarily gave her attention, there was only one person she wanted, and that was you.

You and Wanda always had an undeniable attraction towards each other, a magnetic force that seemed to draw you together, no matter how hard you tried to resist. There was a tension between you two, a spark that ignited every time you were in the same room, eyes locking, and bodies leaning in closer. It was as if you shared a secret language, a hidden connection that only you and her could understand, and that seemed to grow stronger with every passing day. And yet, despite your chemistry, you were not together, and it seemed as if you would never be. Much to Wanda’s disappointment, you have always rejected her pursuits and advances. Unlike her, you valued the time you spend with another person, wanting more than to be a fling. You wanted love from someone who adored you, someone who made you feel special, and initially, you didn’t think Wanda could be that person.

Wanda stood at the edge of the crowded sorority party, drink in her hand, eyes fixed on you. The room was alive with music and chatter, but for Wanda, it all faded away into the background as she watched as you entered the room, greeting everyone who came up to you with such gracefulness. Wanda always knew you liked to look good, but God, why did you have to wear something as sexy as that? The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the skin on your back completely exposed for everyone to see. Wanda was entranced, her heart beating faster as she felt the pull of attraction towards you. She tried to look away, to focus on something else, maybe on the girls who were already talking to her, but no one could compete with you, the woman who had captured her attention completely, dependably each and every time. Wanda couldn't help but admire the way you moved in that dress, with a grace and poise that seemed effortless. And as your eyes met across the crowded room, Wanda felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body just right before you smirked and turned away from her, returning to your friends.

And so, she watched you all night, unable to focus on the rest of the people around her, who wanted her attention. She was too captivated by you, like she was under a spell, and couldn’t do anything else but stare.

Soon, she noticed that she wasn’t the only one who saw you. Of course, she wasn’t. Everywhere you walked, between the sea of people, heads turned and eyes followed, as the other people in the party looked on in awe and admiration. Your beauty was almost surreal, a dream-like quality that made you seem like you were from another world entirely. You, like her, were popular in the way that everyone on campus wanted to be with, but no one could quite capture. And Wanda wanted to have the honor.

She watched as all sorts of people came up to you, asking to dance, for your number, and introducing themselves like they even had a chance. As the seconds passed, Wanda’s jealousy grew. You would throw that pretty smile of yours their way as you politely rejected them. Some of them would even become quite touchy with you, and Wanda hated being the one to watch on the sidelines. She wanted everyone to back off, tell everyone that you were hers, a territory no one shall trespass.

And when you allowed a bubbly freshman, dressed in an all black suit, named Kate, to stay a little longer than Wanda would’ve liked, touching you softly down your back as you spoke and drank from the cup she had gotten you, Wanda decided to take action.

“Don’t touch her,” Wanda said firmly as she stood closely behind you, watching the younger woman immediately pull her hand back off of you.

“Wanda,” you warned, glancing up at her, cautiously eyeing her with your sly eyes for her next move.

Kate watched the interaction carefully, seemingly finding it hard to butt in under the sudden tension that Wanda had brought along with her, “S-Sorry… Hi, I’m Kate.”

Wanda said nothing, and instead, she threw a tiny, bitter smile at her before turning back to you, her hand slowly creeping up your waist. You did little to stop her touch, and if anything, you found yourself leaning closer. It never surprised you how good Wanda was at being territorial and overprotective she was when it came to you, and under your facade, you found it attractive.

“Do you think I could steal you away for just a second?” Wanda whispered into your ear, but loud enough for Kate to catch.

You put your cup down against the counter of the bar and smiled artfully, shaking your head at her, “Uh, actually, Kate and I were having a conversation here, so I really don’t think you can.”

Wanda hummed in annoyance, taking a moment to glare at you as you turned back to the other woman. She felt a pang of jealousy in her chest, watching you and this Kate interact as if she wasn’t even there, and she wanted nothing more than to drag you away from her and all the lingering eyes that were currently still on you. At this point, her blood boiled at every little thing everyone did around you.

“Kate,” Wanda tried again, more firmly this time, as if steam was coming from her ears, face almost red with anger. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, no— of course,” she laughed awkwardly, backing up as slowly as if she had just angered a lion.

And so, Kate left, much to Wanda’s satisfaction, but it did much to fuel your irritation towards Wanda’s actions. And right when she left, another person came up, as if they were in line to talk to you, but instead, Wanda shot them a deathly glare, and they immediately backed off.

You sighed and turned towards the counter, rubbing your temples without even looking at her, “What is wrong with you?”

“I just did you a favor,” Wanda scoffed and folded her arms as you moved away from her. “She wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you, (y/n).”

“Why is sex the only thing on your mind, Wanda? I was just talking to her. Like a normal person,” you tell her, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, come on, you and I both know what she was doing,” she said. “She was all over you.”

She couldn't help but feel possessive over you, and the thought of anyone else touching you or even flirting with you was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

And finally, you turned to her and smirked, your chin in the palm of your hands as you looked up at her through your eyelashes, “Mm, and why is that so important to you?”

“You know why.”

You, in fact, did know why. After all the times Wanda has chased after you, trying desperately to get you to accept her advances, you never did, not wanting to be a part of her seemingly long list of women that she played with. No, initially, you decided you’d do the playing, teasing her without any further intentions afterwards, and it only made her want you more. But at this point, you longed for Wanda’s touch, despite how infuriating she can be at times. The undeniable attraction you had towards each other tied you together, and Wanda only wanted you all to herself.

You shook your head once more and stepped forward, bringing your hand up to flatten out her collar neatly, “It’s kinda cute when you’re jealous.”

Wanda said nothing to deny that and instead, she clenched her jaw while savoring your touch, feeling the tips of your fingers graze her neck softly.

She stood close, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to keep her cool. But you were teasing her with the way you stepped forward, looking up at her with those pretty eyes in a way that made Wanda's frustration grow with each passing moment. It was maddening, the way you played with her, toying with her emotions. Wanda felt a surge of anger rising within her, a fire that threatened to consume her if she didn't do something about it. She tried to maintain her composure, to keep a cool head, but it was no use. Everything you did and said was like a knife, cutting deep into Wanda's heart and making her ache with desire.

Ultimately, unable to take it any longer, she grabbed your wrist and dragged away from the bar, away from every single person who eyed you, through the crowd and into the hallways where she pulled you into one of the many bathrooms in the whole building.

Wanda wrapped her arms around your waist, her front pressed up against your back, holding you close with her lips barely grazing the skin of your neck and her hands running down the sides of your dress. This damn dress. The way it clung to the curves of your body, the fabric draped in such a way that showcased your back, revealing just enough to keep her wanting more. The sight of your bare skin was tantalizing, and Wanda felt a flutter in her chest as she pressed up against you.

“I don’t like the way they keep staring at you,” Wanda confessed as you watched her slowly pepper soft kisses down your neck to your shoulder through the reflection of the mirror.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, reveling in the softness of her lips against your skin, “What are you going to do about it?”

And you felt it — a smirk against your shoulder, making you realize what you had suddenly gotten yourself into. Wanda squeezed your hips with her hands, proudly looking at you through the mirror as if she were savoring the moment she now had you all to herself, in her arms, in her hands.

“I’m gonna remind them that you’re off limits.”

Surprisingly, Wanda was being so gentle, kissing and sucking at your skin softly, marking you, littering plenty of hickeys down your neck and shoulder, and you watched her do it in the mirror. You watched when one of her hands would travel up from your waist to wrap her palm around the swell of your breasts, fondling them eagerly, making you hum a moan in satisfaction. Her other hand found its way down to your thighs, moving slowly under your dress. You couldn’t help but watch again, the sight in the mirror almost making your knees give out, as Wanda moved the hand that was on your breast down to the hem of your dress, bunching up the fabric to pull it up your thighs.

Her fingers finally traced the hem of your panties as she watched your face carefully in the reflection. You looked so pretty like this, practically melting in her arms, lips parted with your eyes closed, as she played with you. After a second of admiring the way you looked, Wanda brought a hand up to grab your jaw, turning your head towards her, before leaning into you for a sloppy kiss, opening your mouth as she pressed a finger to your clothed clit. You moaned into her mouth, giving her perfect chance to slide her tongue into yours, immediately falling in love with the way you tasted. Oh, Wanda just couldn’t wait to have her way with you.

“You’re so wet for me already,” she whispered in your ear, fingers still playing over your clothed sex. “I’ve barely touched you yet.”

“Wanda,” you breathed, eyes closed as you laid your head back against her shoulder.

“No, baby, open your eyes,” she smiled into your cheek as you followed her instructions. “I want you to watch when I fuck you.”

You didn’t know how your knees didn’t just give out the moment she said those words. Not wanting to disappoint, you made sure to keep your eyes open as best you could, watching how her hands moved underneath the fabric of your dress. When you finally feel her fingers slipping into your panties, Wanda moans against your shoulder, her eyes rolling back as she feels the wetness of your pussy. You were practically dripping.

Without wasting another second, Wanda pushed two fingers into you with ease. You moaned softly, immediately clenching around her as she curled her fingers into you, pressing against the sweet spot in your pussy, which she seemed to have no trouble finding.

“You can do better than that, baby,” Wanda whispered, fingers suddenly pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Mmh–W-Wanda,” you moaned out, holding on to her wrist as she fingered you. “Oh, fuck!”

Her second hand was brought into play shortly after, using it to rub your clit roughly, making you jolt against her, legs shaking, and your slick slowly traveling down your thighs. The sight of you writhing against her in the reflection was almost too hot for you to look at, always turning your head away, only for Wanda to grab your jaw and turn you back to face the mirror. You were tight around her fingers, and Wanda couldn’t help but groan at the fact, staring at you through the mirror as you came undone on her fingers.

You shook erratically as you came, unable to think about anything else but the orgasm she had just given you. That was until you felt her pushing in a third finger into your leaking hole without any warning. You tried to push against her, to ask her to give you a second, but something about the way her eyes looked in the mirror as she stared at you gave you a feeling that she would just keep doing whatever she pleased.

So, you let her, no matter how sensitive you were.

“That’s it, baby,” she groaned. “Being such a good girl for me.”

“Please, please—“ you whined, not sure if you were begging for more or begging her to stop.

The stretch of her three fingers was enough to make you chant her name like a prayer as she fucked you through your first orgasm. She was knuckles deep into your squelching pussy, curling them in a rhythmic pattern against your sweet spot, and it made you wonder how you were still standing. Her fingers piston in and out of you, bringing you to the edge for the second time tonight, making your bones feel like jelly. And finally, you arch your back against her, coming right on her fingers once again, screaming her name out without a care in the world, knowing everyone outside the door must’ve heard you.

But Wanda kept going. She continued to finger you, lost in thought after watching you come twice in the mirror, your cunt gushing so loudly, it’s embarrassing.

“Look how pretty you are, (y/n),” she cooed, using her other hand to grope your tits.

“I- I can’t, Wanda, p-please—“ you whined, gripping onto her tightly, unable to watch yourself through the mirror anymore. “T-Too much, please!”

“But you're so pretty when you beg. Why wouldn't I just keep going and going and... going?”

And so, she does. She fucks you until you can barely stand anymore, when your knees buckle, and she has to hold you up with one arm around your waist and even then, she still keeps going, and you’re sobbing at the overstimulation. You almost nearly fall and curl in on yourself, but Wanda made sure to keep you steady, bringing you to the edge another time, and another… and another.

By the end of it, you laid back against her, holding you up completely as your legs have given out. Your eyes were heavy, threatening to close as Wanda soothed out your dress with one hand, kissing you softly down your neck again, this time over the prettiest purple bruises that littered all over your skin. Her lips were warm, soft, and settling as she kissed you. She took in the sight of you with her eyes locked onto you through the mirror; you had your eyes closed, heavily exhaling, hair ruffled and messy, and yet, you looked like the prettiest mess ever. Her pretty girl.

“You’re so perfect,” Wanda whispered lovingly into your ear, her breath ticking your skin. “I don’t like having to fight for your attention.”

The way she said that last sentence was kind of sad, in the way that it hurt her feelings, and you could only hum in response as you slowly but surely regained your composure, shifting slightly in Wanda’s arms. You always knew Wanda was the jealous type, maybe overly jealous, but you found it endearing how she endlessly chased after you, how she still wanted you after tonight.

“You really don’t even have to, Wanda,” you tell her softly, trying to stand upright, wobbling slightly as you did so, to turn and cup her face with your hands. “You know everything I do is so that you can keep your eyes on me.”

“It works every time.”

You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her lips, melting when she smiled into it, “That’s why I do it.”

Wanda took a moment to look at you after you pulled away from her lips. Your lipstick was smudged, spreading slightly down under your bottom lip sexily, making Wanda want nothing more than to kiss you again. And nothing was stopping her, so she did. She was happy, finally being able to have you like she had always wanted and knowing the fact that when you walk out of this bathroom, everyone will see all the marks and bruises Wanda left on you. Because of it, she felt a surge of satisfaction as she pulled you close, determined to show everyone outside just who you belonged to.

That way no one would even dare to try to take her woman again tonight, reminding them that you were hers, and hers alone.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel x reader #elizabeth olsen #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #avengers #avengers x reader

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bg3storage · 2 months

Text

Everyone meet my child, Tav! A sorcerer/bard multiclass with a dark and mysterious past. Check out Tavcore for more personality tidbits.

I realized I never gave a full introduction to Tavie except her booty in the Astarion gifsets so here she is! I based the design of this gifset on the amazing template by @eeldritchblast which helped guide the way.

⋆☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆ FUN FACTS ABOUT TAV ⋆☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

She was a bard in Baldur's Gate under the tutelage of a satyr whom she considered her brother.

Said brother also had ties to the Zhentarim so Nine Fingers Keene and Tav grew up around each other.

It was because of this satyr that Tav carries the Bard class along with her inherent abilities as a sorcerer.

Tav always assumed she was given the gift of Wild Magic due to her own unpredictable emotions so her spellcraft must reflect this.

Tav was haunted by nightmares and vile urges her entire life but gave herself fully to Bhaal after the death of her brother.

Her favorite instrument is the lute. After the murder of Alfira, Tav carries Lihala's Lute with her for the rest of the game to honor the fallen bards.

Loves dresses, bows, and all things fashion which is possibly what influenced the Temple of Bhaal’s fashion glow up between games.

Her eyes used to be a light brown almost hazel but her service to Bhaal gave her this new eye color

As the game progresses and she resists the urge further her eyes revert back to their original color.

Similar to her eyes, Tav’s hair grew gray and incredibly long during her time ruling the Temple of Bhaal → Due to her resistance the original brown her hair once was is returning.

Has a journal full of songs, drawings, and musings (similar to Arthur Morgan’s journal from RDR2)

When the urge grows closer to taking over the writings and drawings can become manic and indecipherable

Tries almost too hard to be good, it is obvious she is compensating for something.

Attempts the “fake it till you make it” attitude when it comes to life after the Nautiloid crash. Since she is haunted by terrifying thoughts, Tav keeps this part of herself incredibly secret and puts up a mask of positivity and kindness. She is sure that once her companions find out who she really is they will turn on her.

As the story goes on, Tav realizes that this “mask” is actually closer to who she is on the inside.

Rarely gets a full night sleep due to nightmares and head buzzing with plans for battle.

Often goes on walks, sits by the fire, or goes for a swim to clear her head.

A huge fan of reading, especially studying history to not make the same mistakes as her ancestors.

This often informs her strategy and plans especially when creating the plan to take the Crown of Karsus.

Reading is also what facilitated her initial bond with Gortash when part of the Dead Three.

Was terrible at wielding any kind of weapon until Wyll graciously helped her train to use a sword and shield.

However, if she has to she’ll whack you over the head with her lute.

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hederasgarden · 12 days

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In honour of your newfound love for Clark Kent, can I please ask you about our man in question and his size kink?

Summary: Clark shows you how much he loves you and your body. Pairing: Clark Kent x Plus Size!F!Reader Word Count: 800 Warning: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Unprotected PIV, size kink, discussions of body insecurity, fluff, and mentions of future pregnancy. A/N: Thank you @ryebecca for holding my hand through this! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Tonight Clark has you on your hands and knees while his large hands frame your hips. You drop your head and pant as he slowly works himself inside, anticipation curling in your belly. Every time feels like the first, your body fighting to let him in even when you desperately want him.

"That's it," he praises, kissing your shoulder. "You're doing so good for me, sweet girl."

You groan in response, fingers grasping the bedsheets desperately until finally, his body is flush with yours. It’s almost too much and you shift back seeking relief, but Clark stills your movement. You glance over your shoulder, with a questioning look.

"I want you to watch yourself," he whispers.

You freeze, a trickle of unease snaking down your spine. Even though he’s never questioned why you keep the lights low, you know Clark understands the reason. You’re uncomfortable seeing yourself like this; it stirs up long-buried insecurities you’ve never voiced for fear he might finally see all the ugly flaws you try to hide.

His name escapes your lips as a strained plea that he’s quick to answer with a tender, reassuring look. You feel an answering tug in your chest, and your resistance melts away. You’d do anything he asked when he looked at you like that – even this.

A quiet exhale from you is the sign he needs to guide you to meet his gaze through the full-length mirror in the corner. In the soft, muted light of your bedroom, he seems even larger behind you, the outline of his body merging with the shadows. Your eyes linger on the way his fingertips span the length of your jaw as he cradles your face.

Before Clark, you never felt small. You were always keenly aware of your weight compared to past boyfriends and how different your body looked from the images in magazines. For years, you hid behind flowing dresses and loose clothing, trying to make yourself less and blend into the background. But now, there’s nowhere to hide. You’re exposed and vulnerable, the layers of your self-protection stripped away.

"I want you to see what I see," Clark continues, wrapping a thick arm around your middle to haul you back against him.

The movement pushes him deeper, and your lashes flutter. A coarse, calloused hand glides down the swell of your stomach, dipping to tease your bundle of nerves, while the other cups one of your breasts. He chains kisses along your throat, and your head lolls to the side, watching the mirror through half-lidded eyes.

“I love every part of you. From these thick thighs,” he murmurs, gently caressing the expanse of skin, “to your beautiful belly that will carry our child one day.”

“Clark…” You shift in his arms, overwhelmed and embarrassed, but he doesn’t let you move.

He tsks, a warm puff of breath teasing the shell of your ear. “I’m not done.”

He rocks into you with a shallow thrust. There’s hardly anywhere to go but he manages to find the space, stealing your breath. He continues to speak, his gravelly voice washing over you in waves, while his fingers move in slow, teasing circles over your clit. Pleasure builds at the base of your spine, suffusing your body with warmth and want.

“I think about this all the time,” he groans, grasping your hips and urging you to move. “You’re built to take me,” he praises. “Don’t you see?”

His words draw your focus back to the mirror. Bathed in the soft, flickering candlelight and enveloped in a haze of desire, you find yourself mesmerized by your reflection and the way Clark moves your body with ease. In his arms, you look delicate and vulnerable — fragile.

His breath falls hotly against your skin when he speaks. "I love all of this, do you know that?"

A wave of pleasure surges through you, overwhelming your senses. It’s only Clark’s strong hand on your jaw that keeps you from turning away from the scene before you. He comes first, his pale pink lips parting with a shuddery breath as his hips lose their rhythm. The hot, sweet rush of his release filling you up is enough to tip you over the edge.

You lean back into Clark, feeling the gentle tickle of his chest hairs against your skin. He runs a soothing hand up your side as you work to steady your breathing.

“Thank you,” you whisper, turning to share a deep, tender kiss.

He grins, cheeks dimpling. “I love you.”

Send me a request

#is #prompt me #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #superman x you #superman x reader #man of steel #clark kent #henry cavill

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buckets-and-trees · 9 months

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As one of the Christmas presents, your Alpha promises to fulfill one of your fantasies, or introduce you to a kink you secretly wanted to try. What is it and how he's going about it? Does he surprise you with it? Or did you plan to make a special night of it?

Okay, not an alpha, but...

well...

I couldn't get this idea out of my head...

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: Make Her Glow Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 986

Content Warnings: bondage, established coerced marriage, breeding kink

Logistical Notes: I think technically this is ... going to be a collection now. Sequel to I'm Your Man and a moment from their honeymoon. I just can't resist this Andy (and neither can you, dear reader).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The domestic elements were incredibly important to Andy. He knew they were vital to building a happy, long-lasting relationship between husband and wife, and he wanted nothing less than that for both of you. Putting up the Christmas tree had been something he’d insisted on doing together, just the two of you, the day after Thanksgiving.

He’d driven the pair of you to the nicest tree lot, walked around holding your hand until he knew the two of you had found a tree you truly liked, then paid to have it delivered to your home after lunch. He had you direct the delivery men to put it exactly where you wanted it. He had helped you string it with lights, then decorate with garland and ornaments. You were still guarded – he had broken down many, but not all, of your walls, but it had been a good day.

But by far the most valuable thing from putting up the tree together had been the lights. He saw sheer, unadulterated delight shine through your eyes the first time they lit up. It was the passion he’d seen on your face so frequently during the first weeks he knew you – it’s what made him know he had to have you, and he loved seeing it again.

Each night, you had very easily let him hold you on the couch, all the other lights off, and sit together in the glow from the white lights of the tree. He had pulled so much more out of you each of those nights – memories, wants, dreams, worries.

He always knew you would work.

He knew you knew the two of your would work.

The soft glow of those lights had made you impossibly softer and warmer to him, and he fucking loved it.

But he hadn’t exploited that knowledge until tonight.

Having finally sent all the house guests home, you were turning off all the lights, and about to collapse onto the couch, but he intercepted you a step away from your destination, and tugged you gently upstairs. You knew not to fight him.

He knows you don’t want to fight him; you’re only holding onto small pieces of resisting him because he’s slowly been disarming every last piece of you, making you more and more vulnerable to becoming completely swept away by him.

He closes the bedroom door and then leads you to the bed. He slowly unzips your simple but beautiful party dress from behind, and you shrug it down your shoulders. He presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, and you can’t suppress a shiver. Then he unclasps your bra, and you let that fall to the floor, too. He slides a finger into the waistband of your lacey underwear on either side of your hips and pulls them gently down. You step out of them without direction.

He spanks you, just once, but it elicits the short, gasping moan he loves to draw from you.

“Up on the bed now,” he instructs.

“Yes, Andy,” your voice is soft, and you crawl up obediently.

“On your back in the middle of the mattress.”

As you move into place, you watch him, and he reaches for a box he left under the bed a few hours earlier.

Andy places the box on the bedside table, and first pulls out a thick, forest green satin ribbon.

He climbs up on the bed next to you. “Hold up your hands, wrists together for me.”

Despite everything else up to this point, he’s never physically bound you before.

Although he can see the evidence of your breathing speed up with the rise and fall of your chest, he’s incredibly pleased that you do exactly as he says, surrendering without a fuss. He wraps the ribbon around your wrists and forearms, then strokes your cheek. “Such a good girl for me.”

He moves back to the box, pulls out one end of the string, plugs it into the socket, and you gasp as a full string of white lights comes to life. Andy smiles and turns off the rest of the lights in the room.

Ten minutes later when he’s wrapped the lights around your arms – right over where the ribbons were first placed because he did want to protect your precious skin from being uncomfortable – and then bound you up to the headboard, where he strung the rest of the lights back and forth between the bedposts, and emerges naked from the large master closet, he fully appreciates the warm glow of the lights just as you have the lights from the tree. He more than gets it now.

Joining you once more on the bed, he runs his hands up your thighs, then guides them open and kneels between them.

“You’re so pretty like this, wife.”

You’re wet for him. Waiting for him.

“You want one more Christmas gift?” he asks, his eyes moving up your body to meet your eyes.

You let out a small, whimpered, “Yes,” and he smiles again. “Please,” you add.

“And I think it’s time we start really working on one more gift for me,” he says. He moves one hand to your hip and places the other solidly over your womb. “I’m done waiting to see you growing with my child, and it’s too perfect that you’re ovulating.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens just a little.

He smirks. “You think I really wouldn’t know something like that? Well, if you’re going to act dumb, I’ll just oblige and fuck you dumb. But, goddamn, you should know how perfect and beautiful you look for me just like this. Glowing under these lights? Perfection."

He leans down to kiss you. His lips move against yours, easily, he licks into your mouth, and you moan. He doesn't relent until you're breathless, and arching up beneath him.

"Now let’s make it so you glow for another reason.”

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I make no apologies for this.

#andy barber #chris evans characters #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #aspen asks #aspen wrote something #I'm your man collection #eva is such a menace #eva #navy and roo's sleepover

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orchidniins · 7 months

Note

Helloooo i LOVE the Serendipitous beginnings😍😍😍😍 the tension is giving✨️

Btw can i have a reaction for mr.television for being possessive towards his girl, bcuz ms gurl is so pretty and many people want her💅.

Question: Do u also write for chaos crew or sidemen??

Possessive | Arthur Frederick

A/N: Thanks for the request! And I'm so glad that you loved my first ArthurTV fic! I'm absolutely in love with this idea and I hope this is what you had in mind. As for your question Anon, I currently only write for Choos crew (Mainly ArthurTV, Arthur Hill and George Clarke) and ChrisMD. Hope you enjoy!! Pairings: ArthurTV x GN!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1k+

Masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Arthur wasn't typically the possessive or jealous type.

Throughout your relationship, he trusted you completely, especially after you had told him about you past experiences with possessive boyfriends. He had full faith in you, never feeling the need to control or restrict your interactions, even when you had male friends who would often come over to your place to hang out.

You were currently getting ready for a mini reunion with some old classmates from school. You had spent your time getting ready quite nicely this evening. The venue they had picked to meet up at was slightly fancy, so you wanted to dress up to suit the occasion. You opted for a cute outfit that complimented your figure and complexion perfectly, and you styled your hair to perfection.

As you finished getting ready, Arthur couldn't help but admire your beauty. "You look absolutely beautiful," he remarked, his hands gently resting on your waist. You smiled in response, a hint of appreciation in your eyes as you thanked him. Arthur leaned in and planted a quick peck on your cheek.

He couldn't shake the possessive urge to keep you all to himself. Despite your initial hesitance, if it weren't for him convincing you to attend, he would have gladly kept you at home, wrapped up in his arms. He had assured you he would accompany you, especially since many people would be bringing their partners.

Arthur remembered you talking about feeling unpopular in school and simply coasting through without much attention from guys or anyone really. He was shocked, he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would often voice his disbelief, but you would just shoot it down.

Once the two of you reached the venue, Arthur initially let you go off with your friends, especially when one of them pulled you away to meet the others. He decided to hang back at the bar, allowing you to have your moment.

As you mingled with a group of classmates, compliments about your stunning appearance and your transformation since school filled the air. However, despite not typically being the possessive type, Arthur couldn't shake off the pang of jealousy as your male classmates openly flirted with you, despite your polite rejections and mention of your relationship status.

Arthur, currently standing with a few of your friends that he had met previously, tried his best to resist the urge to draw closer to you. He did not want to suffocate you with his presence despite the overwhelming desire to do so. With each flirty remark directed at you, his jealousy simmered beneath the surface, yet he maintained his composure, engaging in conversation while ensuring you remained in his line of sight.

Almost as if reading Arthur’s mind, you leave the group and make your way back to him, momentarily easing his tension. However, his relief is short-lived as he watches someone intercept you on your way, attempting to chat you up as well.

Arthur's jaw tenses as he observes from where he’s stood, and a flicker of possessiveness flashes across his eyes. He turns to your friends, his tone edged with a hint of annoyance, "Who's the guy?"

As Arthur watches your body stiffen, his gaze never leaving your form, he senses your discomfort.

"Oh, him," your friend begins, catching the shift in Arthur's calm demeanor. "I didn’t know he was coming. Y/N had a bit of a crush on him in school, but he was kind of a dick to them. Like he was one of those stuck-up pricks, thought he was too good for everyone, you know?"

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, Arthur's grip tightens around his glass as he excuses himself from the conversation. He walks up to where you are standing, his demeanor protective and possessive. Wrapping his arms securely around your waist, he draws you closer, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. Pressing a tender kiss to the side of your temple, he feels your body relax against his and your tension melts away in his embrace.

His voice, low and commanding, cuts through the air, "Hi Love, who’s this?"

Standing slightly taller than the other guy, Arthur squares his shoulders, introducing himself, "I'm their boyfriend."

The man hesitated, clearly intimidated by Arthur's imposing presence, before hastily retreating with a muttered excuse. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, feeling a rush of arousal at his dominant display.

"Shall we?" Arthur's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his gaze intense as he extended his hand. With a nod, you place your hand in his, allowing him to lead you back to your friends.

The rest of the night, Arthur throws his own rules out of the door, abandoning any pretense of restraint. He stays glued to your side, His arm draped protectively around your waist, or sometimes resting tenderly over your shoulder, as if to claim you as his own. He wanted to demonstrate to everyone present just how stunning you were, and more importantly, that you were his.

On your drive back home, you in the driver’s seat, a weighted silence fills the car, both grappling with the events of the night. Eventually, it was Arthur who broke it, his voice soft and filled with concern as he spoke, "Sorry if I seemed a bit too… clingy tonight. I didn’t mean to, I suppose I got a bit carried away."

You reply, your eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead, your tone reassuring and expression soft. "No, you don’t have to apologize. It was fine, honestly," you assure him.

The atmosphere in the car drifted into a comfortable lull, a moment of uncertainty, before you decided to break it with a teasing question, "So, Arthur, were you feeling a little jealous?" You glance at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Arthur chuckled lightly, shaking his head in denial. "Not at all," he replied, though his expression remained hard to read as he turned to meet your gaze.

They came to a stop at a traffic light, the red glow illuminating the car. You turn to him, still teasing, "So, you weren't jealous?" you asked, pointing at him with a grin.

Arthur reached for your hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. His eyes held yours, and he said, "Just remember who you belong to, darling."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

#arthurtv #arthur frederick #arthurtv blurbs #arthurtv fluff #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv fics #arthurtv imagines #arthur frederick x reader #chaos crew #chaos crew imagines #george clarkey #chrismd #arthur hill

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

The Quiet Ones 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation.

While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is.

Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight.

“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.”

You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company.

He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain.

As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin.

“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.”

You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.

“You didn’t,” you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you.

“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?”

He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away.

“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away.

You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man.

You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good.

“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you.

You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer.

“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures.

The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver.

The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing.

“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same.

“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?”

She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you.

“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.”

“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.”

Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment.

“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.

He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats.

Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table.

You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son.

“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands.

You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth.

“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?”

You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house.

“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?”

“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.”

You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies.

“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.

We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table.

“We met...”

“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--”

“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments.

You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.

Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs.

The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated.

“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.”

“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters.

“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...”

“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--”

“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips.

“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.”

“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.”

Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try?

That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.

Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.

You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before.

“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you.

“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth.

“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?”

“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.”

You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing.

“Lloyd,” Delores breathes.

“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.”

“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand.

“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.”

“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini.

“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer.

“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust.

You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much.

You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth.

Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford.

“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork.

You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?”

The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.

“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.”

“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask.

“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.”

Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate.

“Stop, please,” he begs.

You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you.

“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--”

You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees.

“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers.

“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?”

Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands.

“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.”

“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison.

“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!”

“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says.

“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan. He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."

Well, that didn’t work.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the quiet ones #series #the gray man

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hyperactively-me · 1 year

Note

OMG! please more of King Ghost🙏🏻🤤🥵

i gotchu babe.

Being the spare princess of the kingdom never really bothered you much. Really, it was your four older siblings that had much more responsibility than the rest of you. Seventh out of ten in line for the throne? No, you were never destined for the throne of your own kingdom. It’s why you were not all too surprised when your parents informed you that you would be wed to a man in a neighboring kingdom. Although, they never specified which one…

You have been prepared to wed nobility since you were a child. You were trained to act like the perfect, prim and proper princess. Countless hours of teaching you to be the “perfect wife” transformed you into the “perfect” wife, but that never meant you enjoyed a second of it. When you’re a child, you don’t really question everything your parents do. As you grew older, the more you held a certain disdain for the hours of the day dedicated to this training. Day after day, you would learn proper manners, how to sew, play the piano, paint and draw. You were taught the duties of a wife, to care for your husband, to bend to his every whim and wish, to depend on him, and only him. You hated it, loathed it, but it was what you had to do. You had no other choice.

Thankfully, your parents did not neglect your education, although they had some…select pieces of history taken out of your studies. The best tutors in the kingdom were called upon the palace to educate you and your siblings. When you were a child, you were too busy focusing on your teachings and playing to notice the tension in the air, or how you and your family remained unharmed while the kingdom’s village suffered from famine, war, and civil unrest. Your male tutors had deemed some portions of history to be “too violent, too descriptive” for a “young female noble” as yourself. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know about select parts of history when you were older. You didn’t even realize that you didn’t know all that you thought you did later on…

You knew that you were to be sold off for marriage when you were a teenager. To whom, well, that was a mystery. Until recently.

Ghost. King Ghost. Ruler of the Kingdom of Kastron, slayer of any who dares cross him. A skilled and ruthless killer. A machine on the battlefield, a stoic and cold leader.

. . .

“What do you mean?” you blurted out, incredulous.

“It’s been planned for some time now. You’re his betrothed, whether you like it or not, and that’s final.”

You ball your fists, resisting the urge to scream and cry. Instead, you turn your head up high, your brows furrowed in anger as you shoot a glare at your parents.

“I will never marry a killer.”

“You’ll be thankful, one day.” Your father adds, shuffling his papers that he was oh so focused on.

Anger grasped at your throat. You were breathing hard, couldn’t see straight. You felt you had no other choice than to run. So you did. You ran, down the endless hallways, down the stairs, and out into the gardens. Your heart was caught in your throat, a sob building up in your chest as you slowed to a stop. Crumpling into yourself, you grasp your arms, hugging yourself as you try not to sob loudly. It’s what you were born to do, after all. Be the blushing bride.

Oh, he can come, you thought. But you would do everything in your power to make him run and to never take you as his bride.

. . .

Today was the day King Ghost would arrive at your palace. You hoped he would be discouraged by your attitude, enough to see your blatant disgust and leave. You vowed to yourself to make his life more difficult, minute by minute, before he arrived.

Your maids had dressed you in one of your finest dresses, painted your face with makeup, and styled your hair in a flattering manner. You tug at the sleeve of your dress haphazardly, a frown etched on your face.

You didn’t want to see the bastard standing at your doorstep, high and mighty with the stupid helmet he always wore, according to the rumors you’ve heard.

But, alas, here he was. Standing in front of you. A hunk of pure iron armor. Surprisingly, his armor was simple. It wasn’t adorned with precious jewels or carvings. Just simple, smooth iron. A large silver sword was sheathed at his side, the handle a pure black obsidian adorned with a single diamond on the crest of the handle.

The air was thick with tension as you stared at the foreboding creature in front of you. For a moment, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you know his gaze was piercing right through you. Your heart beat fast in your chest as you moved into a bow at his feet, disgust rising in your throat.

When you stood, you forced yourself to lock eyes with where you think his eyes are. Your gaze is fierce, unwavering as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your majesty,” you began. “What a delightful pleasure it is to meet you.”

Your words rang hollow, your interest in his presence glazed with venom.

He stands, stiff as ever, before bowing ever so slightly towards you.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says gruffly, taking in your appearance for a moment before turning his attention to your father. A shiver runs up your spine as the cold iron seems to fill the room with a certain degree of hostility.

“Come,” your father beckons towards Ghost, urging him to follow him down the palace hall. “We will begin dinner shortly.”

King Ghost does not bother to acknowledge you as he stands by your father. You turn around, rolling your eyes, beckoned by your mother to follow them. Lovely. Wonderful first impression.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #hyperactively me

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Yandere Cult Leader! Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusions of Grandeur, Narcissism, Manipulation, Indoctrination, Implications of Smut, Implications of Sexual Coercion, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment, Implication of Murder, Implications of Torture, Implication of Sexual Punishment/Reward, Implications of Pregnancy (Not of Reader), Poisoning, Stockholm Syndrome, Religious Themes, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he sees you for the first time, a quiver in your walk and your voice as you explain to him that your car just swerved into a tree, seemingly of its own accord, leaving you with no means of transportation, knows there is something different about you. Almost whimsical.

♡ Something that makes his stone heart stammer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you shamble up to his front doorstep and plead for help, welcomes you with open arms into his house – the only one for miles – and tells you to “Take a seat. Please, make yourself comfortable !”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, after finding out that you’re unfamiliar with the area, that you’re not privy to where anything or anyone is, hence you didn’t see whatever caused your car to swerve, can’t help but feel something hidden, dark, light up in the back of his mind.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who insists you “Stay the night; we’d be more than happy to have you !” And actively resists your declination, your promise that you’ll “Be fine if I can get to a hospital.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose only elaboration on who “we” are comes in the form of taking you out the back of the house, which now you see is more like a manor, the front of the architecture being deceptively small and mousy, where, as far as the eye could see, a town slept. One filled with people – hundreds, it seemed – dressed in clothing so similar to one another that they formed a moving pattern.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite knowing there are always vacant houses available for any ‘late comers’ to his Association, tells you otherwise – that you will be “Staying with me.” Just until you’re better. Or the next morning, at the very least.

♡ With no phone signal and a growing headache, throupled with your limp, you feel you have little chance of survival out on the open road; especially at night.

♡ And, with what you suspect to be a concussion and no room to argue given how far from anything and everything you were, you accepted what you thought was a gracious offer.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader knows he has to act fast – while you’re still vulnerable and malleable.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he has one of his associates draw you a bath, takes your clothes and puts them somewhere only he knows, providing you with clothes of the same material and disposition as everyone else at the compound town.

♡ “For your comfort,” he says, smiling vaguely. “Those city garments looked awfully dirty and uncomfortable – especially since you’ve just had a nasty accident.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you ask for an ambulance, does one better, bringing you the ‘in-house doctor’ who tells him exactly what he wants to hear. That you’ll “Need to rest for the next week or so, just to be safe.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who thanks whatever deity aside from himself exists who has gifted him such a lenient timeframe to grant you ascension into his Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, standing just outside your guest bedroom, can’t help but smile, knowing that a week alone with you will be a cakewalk. He’s converted people in a single night before now. Albeit through practices he just can’t bring himself to use on you. Not in isolation, anyway.

♡ Despite the unfamiliar sense of urgency that twists his heart in directions it has never known.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who wastes no time in spinning a frivolous, magnificent story for you, proclaiming himself the mayor of this small, humble town, made up of hard-working folk – farmers, labourers, clothes makers; people who were driven from the city after industrialisation made it impossible for them to financially support themselves.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who revels in the way your eyes glimmer when he divulges his accolades to you, though does so with the modesty of one who sees it as their everyday life. Yet, he knows he has not captured your adoration yet. Another idol lives in your heart; a pop star, a film actor, a god of some description. Not him.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who promises to stamp this out of you. In time.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the couple of days after you arrived, commits every ounce of his free time to getting to know you, to understanding what makes you tick, what makes you submissive.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, being the only one in the Compound to understand your culture references outside of this town, having access to sources his Family does not, uses all his knowledge to create an image of himself as a relatable, well-adjusted member of society. Both yours, and his.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can see you’re becoming more comfortable with him the longer he spends in your presence. And he picks up on your body language to know when you want to be left alone, when you want to speak with him, when you’re starting to feel uncomfortable for one reason or another, and acts accordingly.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when you start to ask if you’ll be able to leave soon, knows what must be done.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader understands that, to create the perfect disciple, one must first give them the illusion of choice, and the illusion that, when given the chance to leave, they are making the right choice by deciding to stay.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader no longer accosts you when you go to leave the house anymore, instead feeding into your little fantasy that “You’re looking a lot healthier now ! I think you’re almost fully healed.” Even getting the doctor to confirm his false pleasantry musings.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, from the top floor of his sprawling manor, watches you interact with his Family. You’re so easy to track even without his assigned Protectors following you. You stick out with your mannerisms, your smile fresh and not derived from worship of him, but a million other things running through your mind.

♡ You’re a challenge. Oddly resilient to his attempts to charm you as not to want to spend every waking second in his presence as his disciples do. Then again, you’re much more strong-willed than them. Have something to live for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, despite his goal of initiating as many people into his Family as he can, can’t deny that the more he knows about you – what little information you divulge to this perfect stranger – he feels…drawn to you. In the same way his disciples are to him.

♡ This, he cannot allow. Though he does humour this schoolboy feeling of his interest piquing, his heart fluttering whenever you laugh at his jokes, or relay something to him he never knew before.

♡ Sure, maybe he’s only known you for about a week at this point, but he knows potential when he sees it.

♡ And he’s seen it in you.

♡ Now it’s just a case of getting you – and it – to conform to his will.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, just like whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed or needs to dispel energy of a most nefarious nature, beds his willing disciples – those he knows will not say no, who will gladly take his seed, those who will bear him the fruits of his labour.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader lives for validation, and he’s essentially created his own serotonin farm to stroke his ego whenever he feels it deflating.

♡ And nothing makes Yandere Cult Leader’s ego swell more than seeing the women of his town with his children, knowing that they shall be his successors, the ones to continue his legacy, or fall into his personal army if they are too weak in the mind to take up his mantle.

♡ And that, he knows, is the root of all power. His power, at least.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he realises that people will start looking for you soon, decides to take matters into his own hands. He won’t let anyone take you from him. Not when there’s still so much he has to show you – to teach you.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who fabricates your demise – an unfortunate car accident – sacrificing one of his family collective to take your place in the car, similar to you in every aspect in your physicality; your hair colour, your height, your eyes. And the parts that can’t be faked – moles, tattoos, patches – he has his associates cover up with a fire sparked when the oil leaked into the car engine.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, in the meantime, starts thinking of ways to keep you inside – to stop you from seeing anyone else besides him, from potentially escaping.

♡ That, and he underestimated your likeability, noticing his disciples beginning to take to you with something akin to haste. Something akin to that which he felt for you.

♡ Attraction.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who sees this liking displayed when everyone is gathered in the hall for his talks, wherein he sees the odd person or two talking with you during his speeches. Something unheard of – straight-up forbidden – until now.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader decides not to punish you for this transgression. After all, you’re new ! You don’t know how everything works here (he’s made sure of that). But the initiator…

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure they learn their lesson – a little etiquette in obedience. And you won’t be seeing them again for a while.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader doesn’t just see you as a distraction for himself anymore, but a potential weapon against his power.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader isn’t stupid. On the contrary, he’s entirely lucid and knows exactly what you’d call his little establishment. A cult. A blasphemy of heretics.

♡ And he can’t have you blabbing your mouth – as much as he loves hearing you tell him stories – to the wrong people. Or realising what you’ve been roped into.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader takes your health into his hands and begins adding a secret ingredient to your meals. One which is tasteless, scentless, yet weakens you with each passing day.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, now having the excuse to do so, rarely lets you out of the house (not that you can leave, anyway) insisting that you aren’t well enough to do so.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader makes sure he’s your main source of care and entertainment during your time of declining health.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses your weakened, bed-ridden state to feed you more glorious tales of his philanthropy and godliness. And you, with little else to do – little else you can do – listen. And believe.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as the weeks go on, can see that the defiance in your eyes, the initial hesitation and wariness you displayed in your first days here, is starting to fade, along with any fight or hope you have of ever leaving this place.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader feels his heart clamour when you request his presence, an associate of his coming to retrieve him from his office on the rare day he isn’t there to care for you himself.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, when he can see you’re particularly pained, looks over his shoulder and, as if he’s letting you in on a secret, flashes you a smile.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader calls you his “Special little Lamb. My Saint,” and gets up, locking the bedroom door, returning to your bedside.

♡ His hand slips beneath the bed sheets, finding your thigh. First, with reassurance. Then, with something else. Hunger. Promise.

♡ And you, in your state of delirium, either cannot or choose not to resist as his hand travels further beneath your night shirt, creeping ever closer to your epicentre. All the while, he’s crawling on top of you, an archway to another world. A cage.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader tells you to “Keep quiet. We don’t want the others getting jealous now.”

♡ And all the while, as he’s taking care of you, making you gasp, too feeble to even make a sound, he tells you how he thinks “The Gods will heal you, if only you acknowledged them.” His gaze turns hard. There is no humour, no levity, within him. “Join them.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, one evening, when he’s at your bedside, after months of his attempts to break you, feels his heart soar when you tell him you “Want to become part of the Family.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader can’t tell if he’s eventually gotten through to you, either with his promises of restoration or his nights of gratification, but he sees your conformity as loyalty. Finally.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, seeing that he has you in his iron grip, ceases his poisoning and begins work on your ascension. Immediately.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, as your condition begins to improve, tells you that you are to become his ‘special assistant’ – an occupation everyone in his town would kill and die for.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader whose articulation of what ‘special assistant’ means comes in the form of a collar.

♡ And not just any collar. A shock collar.

♡ Not that you know this. Yet.

♡ yandere Cult Leader who, when you’re able to stand, move, and even participate in everyday activities, has your ‘coronation’ organised. A celebration (and display of ownership_ of you and all that you will be bringing to the Family.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who watches everyone’s reactions carefully, picking out those who showed doubt, even a sliver, and those who seemed overly-accepting of your presence.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, as you went to go to your room, pulled you into his, locking the door behind him.

♡ “An assistant as special as yourself can’t be expected to sleep all by their lonesome,” he tells you, his hand on yours. Iron.

♡ “Not when it’s my job to serve you.”

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is a master manipulator. A lucid one at that. Though, his narcissism clouds his sense of self.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who, that night, takes you for the first time, deeming it to be the claiming ceremony’ – one which has been a tradition since the inception of the Association.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader convinces you that this is the right thing to do, regardless of how much you want to do it.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader who doesn’t stop until he sees every ounce of resistance leave your eyes, and not just towards his advances. Extending far beyond tonight – into the rest of your life as you come to accept that this is your fate, one spent with a demon in a god’s clothing.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader uses sexual gratification as a motivator (or punishment) depending on your behaviour.

♡ If you do something that displeases him, that risks making him lose face if only for a second, he can be vile. Promising the most promiscuously torturous and painful outcomes should you defy his word again.

♡ Such motivators of these punishments can be as simple as wanting to take a walk outside the Compound, asking him a question about the Uncaring Outside, or not doing what he asks of you immediately after he’s told you what he wants.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader is most unkind when he is displeased. And he’ll let you know how easily replaceable you are, how quickly he can find a willing body to take your place in his bed at a moment’s notice.

♡ And you know he’s right. That’s why you obey like you do, why you take the slings and arrows your existence is heir to now, why you plead and beg and cry that you’d “Do better next time ! Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry–”

♡ However, if you have displayed good behaviour, he’ll call you by any name you want to hear – “Sweetheart”, “Darling”, “Angel” – anything that reinforces your perceived importance to the Cult Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader has you glued to his side forevermore. Anyone who tries tot ake you from him is deftly dealt with. Which is why you never see the people who’ve come searching for you, who stumbled upon the leader’s human enclosure as you had. Albeit with less guidance from the Leader.

♡ Yandere Cult Leader promises you that “Nobody out There loves you as much as I do. If they did, they’d have come to join you, wouldn’t they ?”

♡ God forbid if you disagree. The Leader didn’t groom you to be opinionated; he tamed you into his pet.

♡ And if you ever want a fighting chance of escaping this place alive, you have to make him believe that you’re dedicated to nothing but him.

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