#pushing through the art discomfort

[jothemouse]

elliott stardew

(ie my number 1 google search for like the past two months🫥)

⭐if you like, please consider donating⭐

[fukcingleo]

sticker designs I made for my friends birthday :3

[msfcatlover]

#is this me on my batman the cult agenda absolutely i think its a robin jason must read (via cecexoxo)

The Cult is a fun read, especially for Jason in it, but I'd like to point out this is not an exclusive detail to it. If you go back to the beginning, this is from the second page of the first issue with Jason as Robin (Post-Crisis):

I do highly encourage everyone to give Batman: The Cult a read, though. It has a lot of really interesting foreshadowing for Jason's death (which I'm pretty sure was unintentional...)

(Just a few from my favorite examples of accidental foreshadowing throughout Jason's Post-Crisis Robin run.)

Also on the grand scale of awful things to happen to Jason over the years, I do think we should all talk more about that time he crawled through a mass grave in a sewer.

as much as I love the angst potential of Jason choosing guns to mess w Batman's head or whatever, I think it has even better potential to know Batman was the one who taught him how to use a gun back when Jason was Robin and because of that he knows exactly how good Jason is with one

[buldakcorn]

Money Talks

LOONA/ARTMS Heejin x Male Characters

Genre : (TW) Non-con, Humiliation, Prostitution, Ass-slapping, Fingering, Spitroasting, Forced Creampie

4041 words

Heejin's heart raced as she stepped out of the car, the sound of her heels echoing through the dimly lit alley. Her manager had assured her this was necessary, that it would secure their group's future. She took a deep breath and climbed the narrow staircase to the secret location, the cold metal railing feeling like a prison bars leading to an unknown fate. The door at the top of the stairs opened to reveal a stark contrast: a luxurious hallway adorned with gold and velvet. She followed the muffled sounds of hushed voices and clinking glasses until she reached a heavy wooden door marked "Suite 103." With a trembling hand, she pushed it open, revealing an opulent bedroom where two men in sharp suits awaited her, their eyes gleaming with a hunger she couldn't ignore.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Heejin said with a forced smile, her voice a tinkling bell of sweetness she reserved for her public persona. She stepped into the suite, the weight of the situation pressing down on her like an invisible hand. "I'm Heejin from ARTMS. I've been told you're interested in helping support our group?" The two men looked her over, one stroking his chin as if sizing up a piece of art at an auction, the other's gaze lingering on her legs. She tried to ignore the discomfort, focusing instead on the hope that this sacrifice would be worth it. They offered her a seat on a plush velvet sofa, and she perched on the edge, her posture a careful balance between poise and vulnerability. The room was thick with unspoken expectations, the air heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and the faint hint of something darker, something she didn't want to acknowledge. As they began discussing terms, Heejin's mind raced with thoughts of her bandmates, the music they'd make, the fans they'd touch with their performances. This was for them, she told herself, swallowing the bile rising in her throat. For their dreams. And so, she sat, and she listened, and she pretended that the price of success didn't feel like it was tearing her soul apart.

The men's gazes grew more predatory as they instructed Heejin to stand. They began to circle her like vultures, their eyes devouring every inch of her body. The one with the greedy smile reached out and groped her firmly on the ass, his fingertips digging into her flesh as he murmured his approval. She flinched, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. Instead, she forced a smile and nodded, silently enduring his vulgar praise. The other investor stepped closer, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered into her ear, his words a sly mix of compliment and threat. "You're just what we've been looking for," he said, his hand brushing the side of her breast. "A true investment." Heejin felt a shiver run down her spine, but she remained still, her eyes fixed on a spot over their heads, focusing on the chandelier that twinkled mockingly above. The conversation grew more heated, the terms of their deal more explicit, as the men discussed her as if she were nothing more than a commodity to be bought and sold. Yet she knew that the power lay in her hands, twisted as the situation may be. She would do what she had to, for her group, for their music, for their dreams. But as the reality of her predicament sank in, she couldn't help but wonder if the cost of fame was a price she was willing to pay forever.

The two investors leaned back in their chairs, their smiles widening as Heejin began to slowly remove her dress, her movements mechanical and devoid of any seductive flair. The fabric fell to the floor in a pool of black, revealing her trembling body. She tried to keep her composure, her hands reflexively moving to cover her breasts and the vulnerable expanse of her clean-shaved pussy. The men's eyes grew darker, their pupils dilating as they took in the sight of her bare flesh. Despite her efforts to hide, she felt their gazes like hot brands searing into her skin, stripping away any last vestige of dignity she had managed to cling to. She stood there, a sculpture of vulnerability in the center of the plush suite, the chill of the room's air making her nipples tighten painfully. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of their ravenous stares and her own ragged breaths. Her heart hammered against her ribcage like a caged bird desperately seeking escape, but she knew there was no way out of this gilded cage except to play along with their twisted game.

Heejin's arms, toned from countless hours at the gym, were bared to the men's greedy eyes, the muscles flexing slightly as she maintained her poise. Her abs, a testament to her dedication and discipline, rippled with each shaky inhale and exhale. The investors couldn't help but trace the contours of her body with their eyes, appreciating the fruit of her labor. The man with the greedy smile was the first to act, his pudgy hand reaching out to grasp her bicep, giving it a squeeze as if testing the firmness of a melon. "Impressive," he leered, his voice thick with lust. His partner's gaze lingered on her muscular thighs, the kind of strength that could only come from years of dance training and relentless exercise. He couldn't resist running his fingers along the defined muscles, feeling the power beneath the smooth, warm skin. Heejin's jaw clenched, but she didn't pull away, enduring their touch with the stoicism of a statue. The men's eyes gleamed with excitement as they took turns exploring her body, their hands growing bolder with each passing second. They caressed her abs, her thighs, and the firm globes of her ass, their touches feeling like a violation of the very essence of who she was. Yet, she remained still, her mind detached from the scene playing out before her, focusing instead on the future her group could have.

The men's hands grew bolder, each taking one of Heejin's arms and pulling them away from her chest, exposing her small but perky breasts to their leering gazes. The man with the greedy smile was the first to pounce, his fat fingers digging into the soft flesh as he squeezed her roughly, his eyes never leaving hers as he bent down to capture a nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak, eliciting a gasp from the girl. The other investor followed suit, his teeth grazing the other nipple before taking it between his lips to give it a similar treatment. Heejin's cheeks flushed, her eyes squeezed shut, as she felt the men's hot breath against her skin, their greedy mouths worshipping her body in a way that made her feel both used and powerful. Their rough hands continued to knead and maul her breasts, sending waves of unwanted arousal through her. Despite her discomfort, her nipples hardened under their attention, betraying the mix of fear and revulsion she felt deep within. She bit her lower lip, silently begging for the ordeal to end, even as she knew she had to give them what they wanted.

Heejin's body stiffened as one of the men's hands trailed down her stomach and slipped between her legs, his thick fingers probing her sensitive folds. Despite herself, she couldn't suppress the involuntary gasp that escaped her as he began to rub her clit with a cruel expertise, his eyes locked on hers to savor her reaction. The other investor chuckled darkly, reaching over to cup her face and turn it towards him. "Look at you," he sneered, his voice a mix of disgust and excitement. "Already acting like the little whore we know you are." His companion joined in the taunts, their words a toxic blend of praise and degradation that filled her ears like a cacophony of hate. "We're going to pay you so much money," the second man said, his eyes shining with a greed that made her skin crawl. "Just like the slut you are." Heejin's eyes searched the room desperately, trying to find something, anything, to anchor herself to the reality that she wasn't this object of their twisted desires. But the opulent suite with its velvet and gold offered no escape, only a reflection of the cold, hard truth that this was the path she had chosen to walk. With a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes and focused on the sound of her own ragged breathing, the only thing she had left that was truly hers.

"Kneel down and pull down our pants," Swallowing hard, Heejin obeyed the order, her knees hitting the plush carpet with a muffled thud. She took a moment to compose herself before reaching for the waistbands of the men's pants. Her hands trembled as she unhooked the buttons and zipped down their flys, revealing the hardened lengths of their erections. She could feel their anticipation, the heat of their lust as it washed over her. The men leaned back, watching her with hungry eyes as she took hold of their cocks, feeling the weight of their expectations in the palms of her hands. She tried to think of the money, the opportunities, the future of her group, but all she could focus on was the revulsion that roiled in her stomach. With a deep breath, she forced herself to begin, her lips parting to take the first one in her mouth, the salty taste of his skin almost making her gag. The men's groans of pleasure filled the air, a symphony of degradation that drowned out the silent screams in her mind. She knew she had to play her part, to satisfy them in every way possible, if she wanted the funds to flow. And so, she knelt, a reluctant servant to their desires, her mouth and hands working in tandem to bring them to the brink of ecstasy. Each stroke, each suckle, brought her closer to the end of this nightmare, but also deeper into the dark world she had unwillingly embraced. The room spun around her, a blur of velvet and gold, as she prayed for the strength to endure this transaction, and the hope that her sacrifice would not be in vain.

Their grip on her head grew firm, as the two investors took turns thrusting their cocks into her mouth, their hips bucking with each rough facefuck. Heejin's eyes watered and she gagged on the salty intrusion, her cheeks hollowing with each forced inhalation around the thick lengths. She could feel their hands tightening in her hair, guiding her movements, using her as nothing more than a vessel for their pleasure. The men's grunts and moans grew louder, their breathing ragged as they approached climax. Despite her distress, Heejin's own arousal grew, a confusing and unwelcome sensation that she desperately tried to ignore. Her tongue worked overtime, trying to keep up with their relentless pace, as drool spilled down her chin and her jaw began to ache from the constant abuse. The sound of their zippers filled the air as they released her head, their cocks glistening with her saliva. They smirked down at her, panting and disheveled, the power dynamic in the room starker than ever. Heejin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze never leaving the floor, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear, anger, and a strange, detached curiosity about what would happen next in this twisted masquerade of survival.

Heejin felt the firm grip of the men's hands on her arms, hauling her to her feet. They positioned her at the edge of the sumptuous bed, her knees bending slightly to keep her balance. The coolness of the satin sheets brushed against her heated skin as she was bent over, her face buried in the soft fabric. The sound of belts unbuckling echoed in the room, a sinister symphony that made her stomach twist in knots. The first slap of leather against her ass took her by surprise, a sharp sting that made her yelp. The second investor stepped up, his belt in hand, and delivered his own blow, the force sending a shockwave through her body. They alternated, one slapping her firmly on the left cheek, the other on the right, creating a rhythm of pain that she tried to anticipate. Yet, with each stinging impact, she felt their hands come to soothe, rubbing her reddening flesh with surprising gentleness, the contrast making her skin tingle with a confusing mix of agony and relief. The men took their time, enjoying the sight of her writhing body, their smirks deepening with every muffled cry she emitted into the bed. She bit the pillow, muffling her cries as the belts fell in a steady rhythm, painting her ass a deep shade of red that mirrored the fury in her heart. Yet she remained in place, her eyes squeezed shut, enduring the assault for the sake of her group's future.

With a rough tug, the men spun her around on the bed, her legs splayed wide in an undignified display. The suddenness of their actions made Heejin's breath hitch, her eyes flying open in shock. They leaned over her, their faces twisted with lust as they licked their fingers with an obscene enthusiasm. Before she could react, they plunged their wet digits into her pussy, invading her most intimate space without warning. Heejin's eyes rolled back into her head, a mix of surprise and unwanted pleasure coursing through her veins. The sensation was foreign, almost painful, but she felt the beginnings of a wetness that she had not expected, not wanted. Her body was responding to their touch despite her mind's fierce rejection, the slickness coating their fingers as they pumped in and out of her. She could feel her muscles clenching around them, betraying the turmoil within her. The men's chuckles were a symphony of triumph as they watched her body react, their eyes gleaming with victory. They worked her in unison, their fingers curling and stroking with a practiced skill that had her back arching off the bed. Heejin bit her lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood as she struggled not to give in to the rising tide of pleasure. This wasn't supposed to happen, she wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but her body was a traitor to her resolve. The room swam around her, the opulent suite a prison of velvet and gold that she had willingly entered for the sake of her dreams. And now, as the men's fingers worked their magic, she wondered if the price of success was one she could ever truly pay in full.

"Please, slow down!" Heejin gasped out, her voice filled by urgency. Her body was a taut bowstring, ready to snap under the tension of their relentless ministrations. Despite her mental turmoil, the sensations building within her were undeniable, a crescendo of pleasure that she hadn't anticipated. The investors took her words as encouragement, their fingers moving with renewed vigor as they brought her closer to the edge. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, the coil of desire tightening with each intrusive stroke. Her hips began to buck, her body moving of its own accord, seeking the release that hovered just out of reach. "I'm going to cum!" she choked out, the confession torn from her in a desperate whisper. The men's eyes lit up like predatory animals that had spotted their prey, and they quickened their pace, eager to claim their prize. Heejin's eyes squeezed shut even tighter as she fought the wave that threatened to overtake her, the sound of their grunts and the slick sounds of her own arousal a cacophony in her ears. With a final, brutal thrust, she shattered, her body convulsing on the bed as an orgasm ripped through her.

"Taste yourself," Heejin felt the slick, wet fingers at her mouth and knew what was expected of her. With a sense of defeat that weighed heavier than the gold that adorned the suite, she parted her lips and took the proffered digits, tasting the blend of her own arousal and the faint tang of her fear. The man's eyes bore into hers as she sucked, his smile a twisted mirror of triumph that made her stomach lurch. She knew this was the final act of submission before the main event, the ultimate proof of her willingness to play their twisted game.

With a sense of inevitability, Heejin felt her body being repositioned with her head at the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide by one of the investors as the other man stands near the foot of the bed, his erection bobbing in anticipation. The coldness of the man's cock pressed against her lips, the taste of her own arousal still lingering in her mouth from their previous act. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the impending violation. The man at her pussy took hold of his shaft and began to rub the tip against her slick opening, her body taut with fear and a reluctant excitement that she couldn't entirely suppress. His grip was firm, his intent clear as he began to push into her, stretching her open with a slow, deliberate pressure that sent a shiver down her spine. Heejin's eyes watered as she felt herself being filled, the discomfort of his entry stark against the backdrop of her recent orgasm. Meanwhile, the second man leaned in, his cock nudging her cheek as he urged her to take him into her mouth once more. She complied, her eyes never leaving the first man's as she felt herself being claimed, the reality of her situation crashing down upon her like a dark, heavy wave. She swallowed around his girth, her throat tightening with each thrust, as the man at her pussy began to pump in and out with increasing fervor. The room was a blur of gold and velvet, the scents of cologne and sex mingling in the air as the men used her body for their own twisted satisfaction.

As Heejin felt the man's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot, her mouth couldn't help but pull away from the second investor's erection, her moan muffled by the thickness of his shaft. "P-Please, take it s-slow. It's too big," she whimpered, her voice barely audible around the girth in her mouth. Her eyes pleaded with the man at her pussy, her makeup-smeared face a portrait of desperation. He chuckled darkly, the sound a grating contrast to the gentle stroking of her cheek that accompanied his thrusts. "You'll take it," he said, his voice a promise wrapped in a threat. His eyes bore into hers as he pushed deeper, her body stretching to accommodate his size. Heejin's eyes watered again, her throat constricting around the cock filling her mouth as she tried to stifle the sounds of her distress. She could feel her pussy clench around the intrusion, the pressure building with each thrust. Despite her pleas, the men's rhythm didn't falter, their lust driving them forward as they used her body without mercy. She felt so small, so powerless beneath them, their weight pressing down on her as if she were nothing more than a doll to be played with and discarded.

The man at Heejin's mouth grew more demanding, his grip on her neck tightening as he neared his climax. She could feel the pulsing of his cock as he held her in a vice-like grip, his eyes never leaving hers as he fucked her mouth with an intensity that left her gasping for air. The second investor took the cue, his own strokes growing more frantic as he watched the scene unfold before him. Heejin's eyes watered uncontrollably, her throat constricting around the intrusion. The man's cock grew thicker, his grip tightening even further, his hips pumping faster. Heejin's hands slapped against his thighs in a desperate attempt to get him to stop, her muffled cries for air muffled by his girth. But the man was lost in his own pleasure, oblivious to her plight.

"Fuck, take all of my cum, bitch!" his hand tightened, his movements grew erratic, and with a final, brutal thrust, he came, his hot seed filling her mouth and spilling down her chin. She gagged, her eyes watering uncontrollably, as she struggled to swallow his release, the taste of him coating her tongue.

Heejin wasn't given the time to recover as the second investor wrecks her tight pussy with a pace that quickens each second. "Ahhhhh, please, it's t-too much!" the man's grip on Heejin's hips grew even more punishing as he ignored her pleas, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. "You're going to take it all, slut," he grunted, his eyes narrowed with determination. "I'm going to fill your tight little cunt with my cum." Heejin's eyes widened in panic, her voice strained as she begged, "P-please, not inside me! Pull out, please, I don't want to get pregnant!" The investor's only response was a cruel chuckle as he dug his nails into her skin, holding her in place as his hips pistoned between her legs. Heejin's body tensed, her heart racing as she felt his cock swell within her. She knew she had no power here, no control over her own body as it was used for their depraved amusement. But as his movements grew more frantic, she clung to the hope that her voice, her humanity, could somehow break through the fog of their lust. "Pull out, pull out, pull out!" she begged again, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Please, don't cum inside me." The man's only response was a grunt of pleasure, his pace never wavering as he neared the edge of his own release. Her body was a battleground, torn between the need to satisfy these monsters and the primal urge to protect herself. But as the pressure built within her, she knew there was no escape from the fate they had chosen for her, the price she had agreed to pay for the elusive promise of stardom. With a final, savage thrust, the investor's cock erupted, flooding her with his hot, sticky cum. Heejin's eyes squeezed shut as she felt the warmth fill her, the reality of her situation crashing down upon her like a ton of bricks.

Heejin lay there, her body limp and used, cum trickling out of her ravaged pussy and onto the bed beneath her. Her eyes were unfocused, glazed over with a mix of shock and pain. The men, now sated, stepped back, their gazes lingering on her form as if they were contemplating their next move. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath she took, her heart racing as the gravity of what she had just endured settled heavily upon her. The suite's opulence now felt like a mockery of the depraved act that had just occurred within its walls. The men wiped themselves off with a carelessness that was almost as painful as their touch, their business-like demeanor a stark contrast to the raw, exposed state of her soul. They exchanged knowing smirks, their suits immaculate despite the scene they had just indulged in. Heejin felt a tear slip down her cheek, the salty taste of her own pain mixing with the bitter residue of their pleasure in her mouth. This wasn't how she had envisioned her path to stardom, but she had made her choice and now she had to live with the consequences, no matter how much it felt like her soul was being torn apart. Her mind drifted to her bandmates, the music they shared, and the hope that this dark transaction would be the key to unlocking their collective dreams. As she gathered her strength to rise, she vowed that she would never let them know the price she had paid, burying the memory deep within the recesses of her being, a secret she'd carry like a heavy burden for the rest of her days.

---

Happy Heejin Day!

[harryspet]

Bimbo reader maybe / kinda like hostage situation where she is in a cabin with him and she has Stockholm syndrome 🥹

[warnings] dark!daddy!rafe x bimbo!little!reader, this takes place in a cabin though i realize now i don't even mention it lol, DUBCON, stockholm syndrome, implied kidnapping

18+ MDNI

“Have you been good today, hmm?”

Eagerly, you nodded, gazing up at your captor with hopeful eyes. You had been diligent, completing every task on the list he had assigned and waiting patiently for his return. Today was special, he had promised that, as a reward, he would finally let you out of your room.

“I have been, Daddy, I promise,” You answered obediently. You rose from your desk, crossing your bedroom, and handing him your homework, “Look, I did all my worksheets.”

“I see, get down on your knees baby while Daddy looks these over.”

You smiled weakly, holding onto his legs to steady yourself as you lowered yourself to the ground in front of him. You looked up at his figure, strong and imposing, and instinctively your hands found the button of his jeans. 

You recalled the effort you had put in throughout the day: matching baby animals with their mothers, coloring vibrant butterflies from Africa, tracing the alphabet with charming illustrations, and rhyming words by pairing pictures of objects that sounded alike. Each task was completed with care in sparkling pink ink, while you wore a plaid skirt that barely covered your white underwear.

Rafe was kind to let your mind be occupied while he was away. It kept you mentally stimulated. A little girl like you shouldn’t have to concern herself with adult matters, but there was still so much to learn.

“You did such a good job, baby. Tell Daddy something you learned.”

Unzipping his pants, you freed his cock from his jeans. Wrapping your hands around the thick base of him, Rafe’s lips parted and he gave you a look of wanting, of anticipation, “Uh, uhm, something I learned ….oh!” Something came to your mind just as you brought your lips closer to his tip, “I learned about patterns. Patterns repeat in a certain way. Like red-blue-red-blue, that’s a pattern!”

Strong hands caressed your cheek as beautiful blue eyes stared down at you, “What a smart little bunny. You make Daddy so hard, baby,” He groaned huskily as your mouth filled with spit and you took his tip inside your mouth, “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

It wasn’t your favorite thing to do with Rafe. Prying your mouth open often made your jaw ache and the taste …you didn’t love the taste. However, Rafe would get mad if you didn’t swallow. . Over time, you had perfected the art of swallowing him and forcing a smile through the discomfort. It wasn’t pleasant, but you had learned that keeping him happy meant he would finish quickly.

“I love that fucking mouth,” Rafe grunted as you swirled your tongue around him. You pumped him with your hands as your mouth focused on his moth sensitive area, “Smart little bunny. So good at sucking my cock.”

Rafe had a habit of talking to himself while you were with him, and you had come to accept it as part of the routine. He preferred to grab your head and push himself deeper when he was close, which was the only way he wanted to finish. That’s when you often found yourself struggling to catch your breath, with tears usually welling up in your eyes as you waited for him to let you breathe again. When he finally did, you felt a wave of relief and focused on maintaining a composed appearance. You tried to stifle your coughs and gave him a look that conveyed your gratitude.

“Good girl,” He’d usually say as he rubbed himself across your lips, tapping himself against your cheeks as he made a mess of you, “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy, for letting me suck your cock.”

“You’re welcome, bunny.”

“Does that mean I-I can leave my room today?”

Rafe nodded his head as he concealed himself again, looking down at you as he zipped his pants, “You’re just so excited, aren’t you?”

You nodded your head quickly, practically bouncing in place, “Yes, yes, I’m super–really excited!”

“You want up?” He held his hands out to you, a comforting gesture. You placed your hands in his and Rafe helped you to your feet before lifting you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you towards the door. 

You were smart to always obey your Daddy.

+

hope you enjoyed!

rafe cameron masterlist

[beenbaanbuun]

the pool w/ choi jongho

words - 3k

genre - suggestive

warnings - fem!bodied reader, bikini, internalised slut shaming (kind of but not really?), public undressing (again, kind of but not really), size kink, awkward!jongho, bff!wooyoung, lifeguard!san, massage, nipple piercings, i thing that’s it

Wooyoung holds a smug look on his face as he drops onto the sunbed next to you. You have to admit that he looks pretty good with the sun bouncing from his wet skin, but you'd never tell him that. You'd say your friendship resembled something more akin to siblings than anything else, and why would you ever have anything nice to say about your brother?

“What’s the shit-eating grin for?” you say as you toss him the sunscreen and lean forwards; an open invitation for him to massage some into your spine. The quiet scoff he passes in your direction doesn’t go unnoticed, but you can’t comment on it before you hear the click of the cap opening and an ice cold drip of sunscreen hits your back. You wince as your friend massages it in with delicate hands, your body not quite getting used to the temperature quick enough for it not to be uncomfortable as he spreads it all over. Wooyoung only laughs, taking great pleasure in the quiet hums of dissatisfaction you make.

But it only takes about 10 seconds from his hands to pull away from your back and the click of the sunscreen bottle closing to hit your ears. You spare him a glare over your shoulder, watching as he rubs the excess from his hands onto his chest knowing full well that he can't possibly have rubbed it on correctly.

“I don't have a shit eating grin,” he lies through his teeth as he takes great care rubbing the cream into his chest—a lot more than he took with your back. You almost want to push him back in the pool to wash it all off again, but that would be petty, even for you. Instead you simply roll your eyes in dismay and shift to a more comfortable position. Your book lies on the table next to you so you grab it, open it and crack the spine. You don’t start reading quite yet, though; you can’t concentrate when wooyoung looks like he’s planning something devious.

“Yes, you do,” you argue. “Tell me what you’re doing!”

“I'm not doing anything!” he fights back, tone defensive and not at all matching the gleeful smile on his face.

“Well, then tell me what you know!”

His eyes flicker to the pool for just a moment before returning to you. Maybe he thinks you didn’t see it, but you did, and so your gaze follows his only to land on him. The same man from the pool yesterday, and the restaurant last night, and breakfast this morning. The very same man you’ve been obsessing over the last few days. You squeak in something akin to terror and immediately look back to a smirking Wooyoung. Your eyes stay firmly locked on his for one, maybe two seconds before some strange magnetic force pulls your eyes back to him.

He leans against the edge of the pool with one arm up on the side, allowing you to see the soft flesh of his arms. The skin is tan and smooth and good god if you don’t get a chance to dig your nails into it by the end of the holiday then you’ll have worn nothing but your skimpiest of bikinis for nothing. The uncomfortable wedgies and uneven tan lines will have been a waste, nothing more than a study in the art of hassle and discomfort, and that really would put a damper on what has been an otherwise enjoyable holiday.

You crane your neck further to get a glance at his face. Those plush lips that look so incredibly soft, the sparkling eyes that turn a deep honey colour when the sun shines down on them. There's something beautiful about him in the same way a bear is beautiful; intimidating and graceful yet somehow sweet at the same time. Perhaps the strange duality is just one of the reasons you can’t seem to take your mind off of him. His hair is pushed back in a way that has you drooling, and not just at the mouth. You can’t help but let your eyes linger for just a second or two before they move a little further south landing upon that mole on his neck; the one you so desperately want to press your lips to…

You’re ripped from your trance when Wooyoung snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face. With an unsurprising degree of reluctance, you tear your gaze away from him and return it to your best friend who’s smug smile seems to have grown. You’d wipe it from his face if you could, but he’s too far away and it’s far too hot to exert the energy needed to move. You scowl at him instead, tossing up a middle finger in displeasure.

“Stop being weird, Woo, nothing is going to happen,” you say through gritted teeth because god, you desperately hope that statement isn’t true.

“You want it to, though,” he seemingly reads your mind. “You should do something about it!”

“What, like you’re doing with that lifeguard?” You point to the shirtless man across the pool who has absolutely zoned out when he should really be watching the water instead. You can only hope no one has an emergency whilst he’s busy gawping at your friend who has been endlessly peacocking–not that you can say anything–since the day you arrived at this hotel. Wooyoung sends a wink in his direction before turning his attention back to you, just in time to see you fake gag.

“See; I am doing something about the lifeguard,” he grins at you.

“A wink and a smile isn’t going to get you laid.”

“Well it’s more than you’re doing with your man,” he counters, “creepily staring at him isn’t going to get you laid either.”

With a groan you toss your face down into the soft cushion of the sun bed. Wooyoung is right as much as it pains you to admit that to yourself. You want the pool guy so bad and yet all you’ve even attempted to do to seduce him is wear tiny little bikinis that haven’t seemed to catch his attention even once. At least wooyoung has some form of communication with the man he wants to fuck, even if it is just mentally undressing each other from opposite ends of the pool. Knowing your luck, by the end of the holiday wooyoung will have bagged himself the hot lifeguard and you’ll be alone… again.

Wooyoung sighs at your dramatic performance before grabbing your coin purse from the bag. “I'm going to get you some liquid courage,” he says as he stands up, “don’t ever tell me I don’t ever do anything nice for you.”

“But that’s my purs—” he puts a finger to your lip to shush you.

“Thank you is all you have to say.”

And then he’s gone, swinging his hips with each step he takes. If you were to look over to the lifeguard you’re almost sure you’d be able to see him licking his lips with desire. Almost like you when you immediately turn your head to sneak another look at him.

Only he’s not where he was when your eyes last left him. In fact, when you give the pool a scan, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere at all. Did he leave? You question yourself as you less-than-subtly scan the pool over and over again. It would probably be the best thing for your own sake if he did and yet your heart still aches at the prospect. It's not like you were going to speak to him–you absolutely, unequivocally weren’t–too shy and anxious to put yourself up for that rejection, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to pine for a little while longer.

Feeling nothing but dejected ,your eyes shift across to where Wooyoung stands at the bar, top half leaning over the counter slightly, pert ass pointed in the direction of his beau. You’d call him a slut if you hadn’t been doing the exact same for the last week; putting your body on display as some sort of mating ritual in the hopes of a man fucking you halfway to oblivion. At least one of you seems to be having some success in his tiny little swim shorts that definitely show more off than they need to. It’s a good job he has a nice ass, you think to yourself just as a shadow passes over you, blocking the warmth of the sun beating down on your back. It’s just someone walking past a little too close, you tell yourself as you keep your vision on your friend, it’ll be gone in a moment or two.

Except a moment passes, and then another, and the shadow doesn’t move. You’re about to turn your head in the direction of the obstruction to see what’s so important for you to get a them-shaped tan line on your back, when you hear a voice. “Your boyfriend didn’t rub your sunscreen in too well, did he?” It’s pretty, musical and sweet just like a little songbird. Somehow that’s all you need to know exactly who it belongs to. Call it intuition or something but you know it’s him blocking the sun right now.

Your heart beats out of control for just a second before you manage to rein it in. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you respond, turning your head to gaze upon his damp body in all its glory…

Perhaps you’re no better than a man since the first things your eyes focus on are his tits. They’re soft and beautifully tan with little moles dotted here and there to match the one on his neck. You dart your eyes between them like you’re playing your own little game of join the dots. It takes you on a tour of his chest, pupils darting from one pec to the other until your eyes land on something you never expected to see.

Two metal bars…

On either side of his chest…

Right through his nipples…

Holy fuck…

Your jaw goes slack, and so, it seems, does your hand. Thankfully the sound on your book thumping against the less than dry ground is enough to break you free from the stupor his nipple piercings had put you in. Your vision shifts in an instant, settling instead on the pages of your book that more and more water seeps into with each passing second. “Shit,” you mutter, bending down and wrapping your fingertips around the now sodden paper.

“You got it?” he asks, clearly not too put off by your strange behaviour. You hum affirmatively as you lift the book and place it on the table beside your sunbed. He makes a similar sound, although his sounds more thoughtful; more like he’s trying to come up with something to say. It takes a while but eventually he seems to finally land on something, pulling in a deep breath before opening his mouth. “I could've grabbed it for you if you wanted,” he’s kind too? Well that’s horrible news for your crippling obsession with the stranger, “if you’d, you know… asked me to or something.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how unsure he sounds. It’s as if his words aren’t his own, dropping from his lips before he’s even had time to realise what he’s saying. There’s a grin on your face as you twist your head back around to see him, only this time your eyes focus on his face. He’s even sweeter looking up close, his wide eyes and round cheeks making him look something more akin to a little cub than an intimidating killer. Perhaps his face would kid you into thinking he’s innocent if it weren’t for the bars glinting at you just a foot further south.

“I shouldn't have to ask,” you grin, trying your hardest to sound seductive. To your own ears it sounds more like a petulant child; you can only hope that he doesn’t hear it too. “Not if you’re a gentleman, anyway.

“But what about consent?” he says as a pretty shade of peach covers his cheeks. You want to bite them, as if they’d give you the same sweet juice as the fruit they so clearly resemble. You wonder if his lips taste that sweet; you bet they do. “I didn't want to overstep.”

Your grin splits your face in two as he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot. Upon first glance, you were half expecting him to be some suave, smooth talker. He'd say a few flirty pick up lines before taking you to his room for a one-and-done. This, though—this is much more dangerous. This is feelings territory.

“You’re not overstepping by picking my book up,” you say, “that’s simply courteous—gentlemanly, like i said!”

“Courteous,” he repeats slowly as if it’s a new word to him. there’s a ponderous look on his face that quickly morphs into a shy smirk. It seems to transform into something much more confident in the matter of a few seconds. It's almost cocky, and yet there remains to be that sweet, unsure look in his eyes. It's adorable, really. “Well,” he pauses to take stock of his next few words, “would it be courteous to offer to finish rubbing in the sunscreen your boyfriend missed?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you repeat.

“Well–”

“Just rub it in, will you?” you cut him off with an exasperated sigh. As much fun as you’re having playing this little game of cat and mouse, the need to have his hands on your back far outweighs any amusement you’re getting from his pitiful attempt at flirting. He listens, placing one hand on your calf to support himself as he perches himself on the edge of your sunbed. It inches its way up to your inner thigh, stopping just before it gets dangerously close to your core. His thumb barely brushes against the exposed crease where your ass meets your thigh as he softly grazes his fingertips over the back of your leg. They shift to the side, gracefully slipping over the thin string of your bikini bottoms that rests upon your hip. They catch against it, tugging ever so slightly on the bow that holds the flimsy garment together.

It's a promise, that much is crystal clear.

His palm is warm when it first comes into contact with your lower back, yet it still manages to send a shiver up your spine. It’s big too, covering just enough area for you to realise how small you are compared to him. You could see it in his broad shoulders and his thick arms, but feeling it is just… different. He’s barely even touched you yet there’s already a moan on the tip of your tongue. God only knows what’ll happen when his hands get a little more adventurous.

“Can I undo your top?” he approaches the question with about as much grace as a baby giraffe, clumsy yet endearing with the way he blurts it out. It’s impossible to hold in your giggle, your heart swelling with just how awkwardly adorable he is. But then his fingers tug dangerously upon the little bow at your spine and your breath suddenly hitches in your throat. You feel it loosen, but not quite enough for it to fall completely open. It’s not quite clear if he’s just clumsy or if he knows exactly what he’s doing, but either way the simple action has you shifting your slick thighs against each other. “Well?” he softly purrs, and by the tone of his voice you have to assume he's so blissfully unaware of everything he’s doing to you.

“If you think it’ll help,” your voice sounds strained but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t tease you about how much he’s affecting you, or do something unprovoked to force you deeper into this pit of unadulterated arousal you’ve found yourself in. Instead he just tugs open your bikini, just like he said he would, and then his hands are on you again.

The first moan you let out as he grazes his hands up and down the plane if your back can be passed off as one of enjoyment. The massage you’re receiving from the big strong hands of an unbearably handsome man is just good and the sound you let out is simply one of appreciation. No one can blame you for wanting to show how much you’re enjoying it, right? The second moan, however, is almost impossible to pass off as anything other than a plea for more. As his fingers dip down your sides, hands cupping your waist and making you feel so small and malleable beneath him, you can’t help but groan as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

His fingers pause, hands tensing a little as the grip they have upon your waist intensifies. Although you haven’t exactly tried to hide it, you know that this is the exact moment that just how badly you need him really sinks into his adorably awkward brain. You’re not entirely sure what else he was hoping to get out of giving you the world's horniest massage, but it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he’s just a pervert who just wanted an opportunity to feel you up before going to furiously masterbate in the comfort of his room, or maybe he really did just want to come and talk. It doesn’t really matter either way, now; you still need his cock buried deep inside of your walls.

He leans in, grip intensifying as his torso comes to rest against your spine. The metal bars that you nearly almost forgot about feel like ice against your spine as he pushed you down into the bed with his body. Small; you feel so incredibly small, like it would take him no effort at all to pick you up and put you anywhere he deems he wants you. You hope he wants you sitting on his dick, if that really is the case.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” he whispers in your ear like a child passing a message in the middle of class. Nothing about his voice reads sexy, and yet you know if you were standing it would have your knees buckling. you nod silently, not trusting your voice to come out in a way that doesn’t make you seem pathetically desperate. He hums in appreciation. “good,” his lips connect with the side of your head, “the names Jongho, by the way. just in case you need something to moan.”

[eternallyei]

smut, painter men x f!reader

Painter men that’s so obsessed with your curves that he unconsciously draws details of it in his paintings every time his hands start speaking his mind.

He knows the curves of your waist by heart, he doesn’t even give any thoughts about how to paint the canvas. It’s so precise in his mind, as if he had been painting you for ages. Clearly it’s automatic, like his hands were stuck in a loop to draw you.

You’re his muse, his biggest inspiration days and nights. He daydreams and dreams about your delicate figure roaming around his studio. His cheeks flushing pink whenever you finally walk in the room.

He spends hours looking at your figure, your mimics, the way you frown when you get too concentrated in your work or lecture. When you show him something to have his opinion, your little face eager to get any reactions from your boyfriend.

The way your chest rise and falls when you breathe, fast or slow, anything is just enough to attract his attention. Just you, you only, he’s only ever muse, his most precious and most beautiful piece of art. All for him to paint in all of its meanings and colors.

“nngh.. please”

He smiles, remote tightly held in his defined hands while he presses buttons, the vibration only going stronger on your wet pussy. Eyes focused on the canva in front of him, concentrated on the emotions he’s painting into it, colors echoing the sound of your moans for only his ears to hear.

“stop squirming around like that, Miss.. w’dun wanna ruin such a piece of art now, do we ?”

Easier said than done when all he does is leave you drenched in sweat and your own cum on the sofa. You can just squirm in mixed pleasure and discomfort by the way the cold breeze hits your opened legs only for him to paint.

“i-ahh can’t.. anymore please.. ahh fuuck!”

It hits you, you cum yet again under his lust-dazed eyes piercing through your pleading and teary ones. He scoffs, his ears burning red at the envy but he isn’t done with the painting yet. Your words falling on deaf ears as he pushes the volume up more.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, you can barely air a sound, and when you finally catch your breath, the lewdest moan escapes your throat. You swear if anyone passed by they’d think he’s torturing you. Well they wouldn’t be wrong but you asked for this.

He’s eyeing you, devouring you in small glances, a faint smirk glued to his lips. Only your pleads keep him from losing his mind, snapping him out of his pant for a bit.

If only this pant wasn’t so tight in the first place, but he needs just a few more strokes with his paintbrush. He’s too distracted by the way your face contorts in pleasure every time you cum on this sex-toy. Do you fucking love it more than his cock ?

“just a little more, baby..”

He sighs, barely holding a moan by the thought of painting you with his own sweet color. Fuck. He draws few more details and he jumps up his chair, almost throwing his brush and palette.

Hands quick to pull down his pants, holding his aching cock while his eyes stare at you in lust. He walks over to you, scanning your face to your chest rising up and down in distress for air, until he catches sight of your opened legs.

His favorite dessert fully undressed, a pinkish vibrator holding itself inside to try and pleasure you like he does. Thrown to the side and quickly replaced by his length, sliding between the spots that couldn’t be reached by the toy.

His dick is rock hard, it only takes him a few strokes to already cum inside your walls, but he hopes you weren’t expecting him to stop there because he was only getting a taste of what he was craving for a while long now.

It’s only the beginning and he’s going to make sure you’re painted more than any of his paintings. Whiter than any of the empty ones. Just to make sure he went to the end of his masterpiece.

— MARIUS RAFAYEL (albedo) —

— AND ANY OF YOUR FAVS ♡

came through my mind, was picturing the obsessive painting and it sounded cute at first lol until it turned into sth dirty..

likes, rb and comments are appreciated, thank you lovelies ♡

@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ hiromi punishes his flirty sub into submission.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ flashing edit, japanese rope bondage kink, dom/sub relationship, shibari rope bondage, jealous!hiromi, flirty reader, assertive dom!hiromi, written with black reader in mind, orgasm denial, orgasm control, mentions of rope burns/markings, slight age gap (hiromi in his 30's while reader is in early/mid 20's), oral (m.receiving), reader is not a hoe but the way hiromi describe her you would think sis is (he just jealous), a little praise kink, a little degradation kink, cum swallowing, hiromi is a well-established lawyer, reader is in law school & daughter of a successful judge, mentions of other jjk characters (nanami kento, toji fushiguro, atsuya kusakabe), mentions of aftercare, flashback in italics, usage of toys | wc: 3.8k, mdni

sticky note from deja — this is a repost, but same hiromi & reader from this fic. don't really consume jjk fics like that anymore but do still enjoy writing about hiromi, choso, nanami, & toji.

DURING THE TWELFTH CENTURY, JAPANESE PRISONERS WERE PUNISHED WITH SEVERE TORTURE, COMMONLY IN THE FORM OF HOJOJUTSU TIES. The traditional martial art was used by  Samurai to restrain their victims, causing agonizing pain, and discomfort. However, Hiromi was sure those same Samurai would be turning in their graves if they found out the same torture method was now used in the bedroom of many dom and sub relationships. Shibari was now a popular form of bondage play that gave many doms the power of control and many subs the satisfaction of relinquishing that control. 

And Hiromi Higuruma was now introducing this form of bondage to his rebellious sub. 

Hiromi's form of dominance was unique. Whereas others were aggressive and authoritarian, he was a perfect balance of assertiveness and compassion. However, his sub had a tendency of taking his kindness for granted, one too many times.  Some days, she had him on the verge of voiding their contract entirely,  but on others, he was so blind by his lust—agitated that his sexual desires could cloud his judgment to such an extent.

As he ends a Zoom call with his colleagues, he left his office, finally pushing the thought of work out of his mind. His house slippers drag along the wooden floors as he makes his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, slipping a straw in when he opens it. After taking a sip he saunters through his penthouse toward his bedroom,  smiling as he’s greeted by the wonderful sight of his sub completely bare on his king-size bed. Ropes decorate her pretty body, the thick strands wrapped tightly, rendering her helpless and immobile. It took him weeks to master the beauty of shibari and being able to successfully bind his sub in ropes was a stunning sight, to say the least. 

He nibbles on the straw peeking from his bottle as he indulges in the artistic sight of the ropes against her smooth skin. A blindfold leaves her blind, his approaching footsteps causing her head to raise from the pillow beneath her head. Hiromi takes a long sip of the water before stepping a bit closer to the bed. It was good to know that she hadn’t fallen asleep during his time in a quick Zoom call, but then again he did prop a vibrating wand set to the lowest speed against her clit before he left, pleased as her needy whimpers echoed through the penthouse. This was just the start of her punishment for her lousy behavior. 

The industry of law from police officers, paralegals, and judges to lawyers—was a small world in Japan. If word of your failure to win a case you were defending can travel fast enough to be talked about during the six o’clock evening news, then obviously the childish gossip of his sub Y/N flirting with a fucking councilman got to him before he finished his opening arguments for a case. Usually, Hiromi would brush it under the rug. She still was young, dumb, and eager to get a taste of any cock that could buy her something she could easily get from daddy. But he’d had it with her behavior. 

The sandy brown rope tied in the most beautiful knots traps her legs in such a way that she couldn’t squirm away from  Hiromi or the vibrator’s touch. Another rope wraps around her upper body, binding her arms behind her back. Hiromi’s a little worried about that one, as she was lying on her back. But it was a magnificent scene, especially with the way the thick rope makes her boobs look perkier. 

Hiromi drags the lounging chair in the corner of his master bedroom towards the edge of the bed. He plops down on the seat and leans over to remove the blindfold, placing the silken covering on the nightstand next to his bed. When he makes eye contact with her tear-filled eyes he is void of pity. His heart doesn’t soften like it usually does Instead, he just stares at her with so much hunger that one would think he was some sex addict. Hiromi leans forward to place the straw of his bottle between her lips, urging her to drink. He can hear her faint swallows while he thumbs away her tears, taking note of the dried-up tear streaks that stain her heated cheeks. 

“Did you cum?” Hiromi asks, reclining into his seat. He brings one leg over the other as he stares at her with those deadpan eyes of his. 

Y/N watches as he places the water bottle on the nightstand next to the blindfold. She did cum; she came more than once, actually. However, admitting that wouldn’t satisfy Hiromi. Sure, he likes knowing that she orgasmed when the two engaged in sexual activities. But he relishes the thought of being the one to bring Y/N’s body to that point, on his command. 

Hiromi gets the answer to his question when the young lady breaks eye contact. He kisses his teeth as he watches her stare at the ceiling,  her reflection staring right back in the mirror looming above. He stands to grab the vibrating wand between her opened legs, smirking as he finds her slick coating the toy. He toys with the vibration settings as he returns to his seat, his expression reverting to one of stoicism. 

“Just please touch me Hiromi, I want to feel you.” Y/N cries, finally breaking her stubborn silence. 

“No,” Hiromi states impassively. “Do you even know why you’re in this predicament in the first place?” His large hand takes a hold of her face, forcing her to look at him. 

“Nope,” It annoys him that she’s bratty enough to articulate an answer with such pride.

How can one crave and beg for his touch but still be defiant enough to answer his question like that?

“Hmm, interesting,” are the only words that come out of Hiromi’s mouth before changing the setting of the toy to medium speed. He places the vibrating wand back between her thighs, firm as he pressed it against her clit. “And be sure to not cum without my permission this time.” 

He watches her squirm against the confines of the ropes, the knots not budging one bit against her struggle. Instead, they only grow tighter around her limbs. 

“Y/N, do you remember rule 14 in our contract? It’s one rule that I hold so high, especially considering who we are.” 

Y/N can’t concentrate on Hiromi’s question due to the intense feeling that’s burning between her thighs. She feels like she’s on trial, and with each question that leaves Hiromi’s mouth, he is deciding her fate for tonight. Will she be found innocent or guilty? The young law student only moans out as she tries to remember the answer to his question, simply because she knows her dom so well. If she obeyed, he always rewarded her. 

As a law student, it was important for Y/N to eye every document presented to her in this folder. Hiromi expected her to read over the contract multiple times simply because he would adore a challenge if she caught a mistake he made or something. He specifically invited her to dinner to look over the contract, and the woman was finally getting to the end of it.

“I don’t really understand this rule,” Y/N spoke out. 

“Which one?” Hiromi inquired from across the table. I did my best to make them as clear as possible.” 

“Rule 14.” 

“What does it say? I expect you to be more vocal if we’re going to make this work. Say the rule loud and clear and tell me why you don’t understand it.” Hiromi said before cutting into his steak to continue eating. 

Y/N watched as he ate his luxury dinner. When he had a seminar at her university, she was so curious to know who Hiromi Higuruma was that she forgot the rumors were true. He was as assertive outside the courthouse as much as he was inside of it. 

Y/N cleared her throat before speaking, “The sub is not allowed to engage in other romantic relationships nor romantic gestures with other associates in the law industry. This includes police officers, lawyers, paralegals, judges, and political figures.” 

“Okay, and why don’t you understand it?” Hiromi grabbed his glass of wine to take a sip from it.

“It’s bullshit, and it contradicts your second rule of saying that we’re not romantically involved with each other—just merely helping each other with our sexual fantasies. If we’re not romantically involved, why am I forbidden to mingle with other people?” Y/N’s arms crossed over her chest, awaiting a response. 

“You’re allowed to mingle with other people, knock yourself out. Just not someone that’s in the same industry as us. It may not seem like our world isn’t small, but it is. I don’t want this to get messier than engaging in this form of a relationship already is.” 

“Messy? How would it get messy?” Y/N asked.

Hiromi met her gaze. Usually, people broke eye contact with him because he was the most intimidating lawyer in the room. But she held her head high, this one,  and never broke eye contact. It was almost as if she were challenging him.

“Former subs get attached to the point where they blabber to their little law friends or attempt to use my colleagues to make me jealous. Both of those examples are messy.” Hiromi answered.

Y/N’s lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. She just picked up the pen and signed the contract at the end. Hiromi watched as she signed it, even going so far as to leave her red lipstick print on the first page of the contract. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Y/N finally realizes why she was stuck in the intricate shibari rope bondage with a vibrator buzzing against her clit. She flirted with that councilman, Toji Fushiguro. If she thinks hard enough, she can even remember him grabbing a handful of her ass with how flirtatious she was. But in her defense, she’d had a few too many strawberry mojitos.

“Does the name Toji Fushiguro ring a bell to  you?” Hiromi moves his chair closer to grasp the wand. 

A sudden gasp escapes Y/N’s mouth as she writhes on the plush bed. Hiromi grips the wand and moves it around her wet folds teasingly, placing it on her clit in a slow circular motion. He knew Y/N so well that if her hands weren't tied behind her back, she would desperately inch away from the pleasurable action so she wouldn’t cum. Whines of desperation slip past her lips as she attempts to arch her back off the bed. Just as Hiromi could see her toes curl, he removed the vibrator from her clit. He deviously clicks his tongue while dragging his slender fingers down her bare body, fingertips grazing the ropes that imprinted her smooth skin. 

“Since you want to act like a brat, brats have to earn the privilege to fuckin’ cum.” 

His words come out as a sweet whisper, but Y/N can hear the threatening undertone clear as day. Her legs quiver beneath the ropes, swallowing the remnants of her orgasm away. The action ignited a heat across her body so hot, that she felt as if she were running a fever. 

 “I went out with the guys the other night. You know, Kento, Kusakabe, and your favorite, Toji.” Hiromi tosses the wand aside, tired of the mediocre toy. “You know, like all  guy talk…someone is bound to brag  about the women  they’re trying to fuck.” 

Hiromi stands from the chair he was sitting in, Y/N watching closely as he pushes it back to its rightful place in the corner. She can hear his footsteps against the wooden floors but is too lazy to follow his movements. The weight of helplessness ensnares her as she listens to Hiromi’s words. Through her blurry gaze, she anxiously watches  Hiromi roll up the sleeves of his white button-down to his elbows. He folds the cotton with such precision, that one would have thought he was returning it to whatever store he bought it from. The soft thump of his footsteps is soon replaced by the clink of his belt being undone, the sound, amplifying the tension already filling the room. Y/N might not be able to tell what the man is up to, but she’s certain he’s seething with jealousy after what she did, and that only compelled him to punish her.

“Toji begins talking about how he’s so close to fucking this judge's daughter. I shrug it off as just Toji being Toji: a freshly divorced horn dog that likes sticking his dick in any woman wearing a short skirt. But then he mentions your name,” Hiromi pauses as he returns to  Y/N’s side.

His nicely tailored bottoms hang loose around his waist, the band of his Calvin Klein briefs now visible. His shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest and the beginnings of a mouth-watering happy trail. 

“Now answer me this. Why would Toji Fushiguro know your name?” Hiromi’s arms cross over his chest, his muscles bulging slightly in the shirt he’s still wearing. “And if you answer with, ‘I don’t know’—expect to be punished.” 

With lust in her eyes and desperation ravaging her body, Y/N nibbles her bottom lip as if it is a chew toy. She’s grateful that he didn’t put the familiar cotton candy-colored ball gag in her mouth before her punishment—she wouldn’t be able to do as much shit-talking if he did. But one thing Hiromi knows about Y/N is that she enjoys testing his patience.  It’s like a person filling a glass to its brim and continuing to add small droplets until it overflows.

And with an innocent doe-eyed expression, Y/N looks up at Hiromi and says, “I don’t know.” 

Hiromi's eyes roll at the woman on his bed, stepping forward to grasp at one of the ropes causing Y/N to gasp. As he tugs her to the edge of the bed his cock twitches in anticipation at thought of his oncoming punishment, the images of just what he had planned rushing to the forefront of his mind. When one has a bratty sub with a mouth as smart as theirs and an attitude to match, They’ve got to use it. 

The majority of her body lies comfortably on the king-sized bed, the same one she’s spent many nights sleeping in after an evening of wanton fun. But it’s her head that’s hanging off the bed, gulping the knot that formed in her throat as she stares up at her dom. She’s endured many punishments before. Spankings with a leather paddle that left marks on her plush asscheeks, to having her orgasm denied just when she was about to cum. The young woman should’ve been used to the punishments by now, but when she thought she had the upper hand—Hiromi was always there to remind her who was in control. 

It didn’t take long before Hiromi’s cock found comfort in Y/N’s mouth. A feeling she hasn’t experienced in a while considering his schedule has been rather hectic thanks to a certain case. If her mouth wasn’t already occupied she would’ve happily voiced just how much she missed the feeling of his cock on her tongue. Knowing Hiromi, he probably wouldn’t even take the young woman seriously at all. 

So caught up in her thoughts, Y/N fails to notice the rough thrust of Hiromi’s hips, her resulting violent gag birthing a smirk on the man’s face as he withdraws his cock completely from her mouth.  His hand envelops his spit-covered length, letting the tip brush against Y/N’s lips before inevitably forcing his cock back down Y/N’s throat —this time he wouldn’t stop. She feels the full force of his frustrations in each harsh thrust, her breath slowly being ripped from her lungs, bit by bit. Y/N hopelessly squirms on the mattress, her movements obstructed each time by the rope digging into her soft skin. 

Hiromi pulls his length out of Y/N’s mouth, giving her a chance to breathe. She looks absolutely obscene like this,  her tear-stained cheeks inciting lust in the pit of his stomach, but he forces that lust away because it would only make him pity. Before he knew it, he’d begin to coddle her through her punishment, and Hiromi couldn’t have that. He lets his palm glide up and down his shaft before repeating his previous action,  stuffing Y/N’s mouth to the point that she was seeing stars. He wasn’t sure if his behavior was due to jealousy or a broken rule, but he did know that afterward, this lesson would be ingrained in her mind, that next time you’d think twice about disobeying him.  

The pornographic sound of Y/N’s throat is the only thing heard throughout  Hiromi’s master bedroom. She can feel her pussy moistening at the intoxicating mixture of degradation and praise he was feeding her. Y/N always knew what type of vulgar phrase would tumble from Hiromi’s lips,  even if they were quite predictable, the sultry words mixed with his brash voice still makes the woman feel like there is a waterfall pooling in between her thighs.

“You look much better this way, Y/N. Don’t you agree?”

“Good girl, you’re sucking me off so well.”

Y/N knows Hiromi well. So well, in fact, the woman knows he’s going to cum just by the look on his face, his increasingly slow and sloppy strokes confirming his approaching climax When Hiromi was engrossed in his chase for ecstasy, he’d lose all sense of control, the concept of mercy unknown—no matter if he had her knees pressed against her chest or fucked her throat senseless until it burned. 

It isn’t long before Y/N  feels thick ropes of cum shooting down her throat, and there was a lot of it. Hiromi doesn’t stop until every droplet ejected from his plump pink tip paints the back of Y/N’s throat. His cheeks are as red as a freshly grown tomato, whines high pitched and strained. Although Y/N’s eyes are clouded with tears t, she’s still able to catch a glimpse of Hiromi’s sigh of relief. 

When the panting mess of a lawyer finally removes his cock from Y/N’s mouth, a thin string of saliva hangs from the tip. His muscular chest glistens with a layer of sweat as he leans on the nightstand next to his bed to keep his balance. He tears his soiled dress shirt off, letting it fall to the ground, eyes darkening as he glances down at Y/N’s pitiful form with a frown. She yelps when he grabs a hold of her tear-stained cheeks, his grip so hard that it forces her lips to pucker, giving him the perfect view of her cum-filled mouth. 

“Swallow it,” Hiromi commands stoically.

Y/N complies immediately. It wasn’t like she could protest anyway. Unprompted, she then opens her mouth and stuck out her tongue, verifying that she did exactly as she was told, like the obedient sub she was. 

“Huh, so you can listen." Hiromi’s lips curl into a smirk before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good girl.” He praises, thumb tracing her bottom lip tenderly.  

As Hiromi helps Y/N back on the bed, he begins preparing for the aftermath of their session. It was different every night, most of which were filled with Y/N’s giggles while she recalled her favorite parts of the evening. Tonight his room was quiet as ever in his search for the scissors to free Y/N from the ropes still binding her limbs. Perhaps the lawyer managed to get his message across. Or maybe Y/N was collecting her thoughts—after all, this was technically a new form of punishment for her, so it was only natural. 

Y/N feels like she’s still gasping for air even though Hiromi’s cock no longer occupied it, her body aching even as the dom cut through her ropy prison. The imprints of the tethers that litter her soft skin are revealed with each snip, Hiromi’s fingers grazing them gently to alleviate the burn that no doubt lingered beneath each angry mark. Finally free from her ties, the first thing the young law student does was stretch out her limbs, a tired yawn following. 

“Next time,” she sighs, rolling onto her stomach. “You should get pink ropes. They’d look so much cuter on me,” Y/N throws Hiromi a playfully childish pout that earns her an eye roll from the nonchalant man.

“Even after all that, you’ve still got a smart mouth,” Hiromi grumbles as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Typical.” 

“You should be used to it by now.,” Y/N winks. “I didn’t expect you would go this far over Toji Fushiguro, though.” She admits, resting her head on her arms. 

“You broke a rule in the contract. You get punished for breaking rules, it’s not rocket science nor does it have anything to do with Toji Fushiguro.” Hiromi reminds her. 

He retreats to the bathroom connected to his room to run Y/N a warm relaxing bath. He even throws in her favorite scented Epsom salts to help soothe her muscles. His tasks in the bathroom were brief; he wasn’t even in there that long—but he still notice Y/N’s lack of a response. He assumes that exhaustion finally overcame her body because there were only two things that could hinder the woman’s snarky temperament,  and those were her beauty rest and her father’s black card. However, Hiromi takes aftercare very seriously within his dom and sub relationships. So if he has to disturb her sleep to get her cleaned up—then so be it. When the older lawyer steps back into his room, he is met with the sight of Y/N slipping on her neatly folded clothes, the same ones that lay previously in the corner of the room. 

He watched her dress in confusion. She’s never left his place after a session. Hiromi grew so accustomed to his favorite sub comfortably sleeping in his bed after mindblowing sex that he even bought her a spare toothbrush. 

“I’m starting to think you’re catching feelings beyond the contract.” She says out loud, sliding on the heels she came strutting into his place with. “And that will break the very last rule….” Y/N’s voice trails off as she closes the gap between them. The law student grasps at his shirt to tug him closer and pecks the corner of his lips. “Refrain from getting attached.”

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

[branded-rose]

Adam sat upright in bed, a shout on his lips that dropped off as his wings shot out, smacking his lieutenant in the head and nearly pushing her off the mattress.

Lute met the rude awakening with all the urgency it deserved, springing up and drawing her fists in front of her defensively as Adam let loose a string of profanity.

She quickly drew up the blind to let light into the room before she darted around the bed; her eyes scanning the room quickly for signs of danger even if she knew there shouldn’t be anything. 

It was Heaven. What threat would there realistically be?

When she was satisfied she returned to the bed, about to ask her superior officer what sick joke he was pulling when she stopped.

Adam was pale, his hands trembling as he brought them up to wipe cold sweat from his brow. A string of curses still fell from his lips, albeit strained.

She tentatively reached a hand out, placing it gently on his shoulder.

“Uh… Sir?”

Adam flinched, turning his head to meet Lute’s concerned expression. He forced a smile and shrugged, trying his very best to play the whole thing off.

“What? Just a nightmare. Geez you’re acting like we’re being attacked or something. @#$%#@ relax.” He forced a laugh and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Lute fell silent a moment, examining her commander closely. It wasn’t often she saw him so… uncertain. So shaken. Even in times he was unsure of himself he typically covered it up with bravado.

She scooted closer, pushing on his shoulder to encourage him to turn so she could realign some of the golden feathers in his wing that had dislodged when he’d struck her.

“What was it about?” Her fingers very delicately and precisely moved over the wing, sliding the feathers back into place and easing any discomfort. Something that was visible as she watched Adam’s posture relax.

“Just… human stuff. You wouldn’t get it.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“I was human once too.”

“Yeah well-“ He scratched the back of his neck, agitated. “-You wouldn’t get it. And besides that was @#$%#@ forever ago.”  

“You were an angel hundreds of years before I was.” Lute retorted.

“Yeah… and? What’s your @#$#@% point?”

The exorcist felt her eyebrow twitch, yanking on his wings to pull him towards her.

“You’re not the only one who understands the horrors of living.”

Adam paused for a long moment, considering his lieutenant’s words ever so briefly before turning so their faces were just inches apart. 

His expression softened. “I thought you were ‘reborn’?”

“I was.”

“So then when was the last time you had a nightmare?”

Lute’s jaw opened only to close again. She hadn’t had a nightmare in decades. Or if she had she couldn’t recall what it was exactly. Certainly nothing to startle her awake.

He turned away from her, pulling back briefly to rub his face.

“That’s what I thought. Must be nice.”

She watched him for an additional moment before she got up and closed the blinds, allowing the room to fall back into darkness.

“You should go back to sleep.” She uttered softly, her chin grazing against his shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh… yeah.” He waited for her to get comfortable before he drew close, his arms and wings wrapping around her small frame, almost protectively.

Possessively.

Lute settled into the embrace, familiar and warm as it was. She couldn’t help but smirk softly as she rested her chin on top of his head, his ear against her chest.

“Hey… Lute. You… won’t betray me or whatever, right?” He muttered softly, his tone laced with uncertainty.

Lute’s brows furrowed slightly, confused by the suddenness of the question.

“Of course not, Sir.” Her grip on him tightened ever so slightly, a small smile on her lips.

“…I wouldn’t dare.”

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

Idea/prompt from the amazing @kimik0hippie! Seriously, their stuff singlehandedly inspired me to come out of my 800000 year hiatus and actually do illustrations again. So please go check their art out. ;D

Adam & Lute © Vivziepop/A24

Artwork © Branded-Rose

[glowupwithamy]

Finish what you started and transform your productivity

Recently i picked up a book i hadn't read in a long time for the past week i hadn't been able to work properly my tasks were going unfinished so i opened my cupboard and saw that book right in front of me. Then i read the whole book in just a one night and it sparked inspiration in me ..So i thought why not share everything i learned with all of you?

So I'm giving you guys a structured summary of Finish The Art of Following Through - Taking Action, Executing & Self Discipline by Peter Hollins -

1. The Importance of Execution

The ability to follow through allows you to create the life you desire rather than settling for the one you currently have. The process consists of focus, self-discipline, action, and persistence

2. Barriers to Follow Through

- Inhibiting Tactics: These include setting bad goals, procrastination, succumbing to distractions, and poor time management.

- Psychological Roadblocks: These encompass laziness, fear of judgment or failure, perfectionism driven by insecurity, and lack of self-awareness.

3. Staying Motivated

To remain motivated holds both external and internal motivators -

- External Motivators: These involve utilizing other people or resources to encourage action, such as accountability partners upfront investments and self bribery

- Internal Motivators: These focus on understanding personal benefits and improvements. Ask yourself questions such as How will this benefit me? and How will my life improve?

4. Developing a Manifesto

A manifesto is a set of daily rules that guide your actions so her are the some key rules -

- Rule 1: Identify if you’re acting out of laziness and avoid it.

- Rule 2: Limit yourself to three major tasks per day.

- Rule 3: Establish daily limitations and requirements

- Rule 4: Reaffirm your intentions through statements like I want I , will and I won't

- Rule 5: Reflect on the future consequences of not following through

- Rule 6: Utilize the concept of "just 10 minutes" to push through discomfort.

5. Follow Through Mindsets

- Mindset 1: Recognize the worthiness of your efforts.

⭐ Mindset 2: Become comfortable with discomfort.

- Mindset 3: Understand that learning comes from completing tasks.

- Mindset 4: Manage stress and anxiety effectively

6. Overcoming Procrastination

Procrastination can be managed through strategies such as:

- Temptation Bundling: Combine unpleasant tasks with enjoyable activities.

- Creating Momentum: Make starting tasks as easy as possible to gain momentum.

- Leveraging Fear: Use productive paranoia to spur action but cautiously

7. Minimizing Distractions

Create a work environment free from distractions and focus on

⭐ Single Tasking: Avoid multitasking to eliminate attention residue ( I will also create a separate blog on this topic i used to face this problem earlier and i have used many methods to reduce my habit of multitasking so i will write a blog about it. Don't worry )

- Batching Tasks: Group similar tasks to improve efficiency.

- Creating a Don't-Do List : Identify tasks to ignore and avoid ( This method is literally too much helpful )

8. The 40–70 Rule

This rule suggests acting when you have 70% of the necessary information as waiting for 100% is unrealistic

9. The Importance of Rest

Recognize the value of rest and relaxation as essential for mental recovery

10. Common Pitfalls

- False Hope Syndrome: Avoid unrealistic expectations and set achievable goals.

- Overthinking: Avoid excessive rumination and focus on taking action.

- Worrying: Concentrate on the present and control what you can.

11. Developing Daily Systems

Establish daily behaviors that promote consistency and long term success

⭐ Keep a Scoreboard: Track progress for motivation ( Ive been using this method for the past four days it literally shows me where I am making mistakes and what I need to do to complete my unfinished tasks )

By following these structured advice you can improve your ability to finish what you start and achieve your goals

If you have any questions or tips to share feel free to drop them in the comments in here to chat , Stay connected for more tips and insights thanks :)

[candy69gurl]

Bound by Ropes Love

Sub Gojo Satoru x dom f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, reverse consensual (m!sub+f!dom), mentions of breakup, bondage, m!nipple biting & playing, dick squeezing, blow job, cum play, m!teasing & begging, m!harassment, use of threats, clit rubbing, cum squirt on face (male), use of nicknames, mutliple orgasms, raw sex (cumming inside), face sitting, cum eating wc - 4k requested by anon ART NOT MINE !

Satoru saunters up to Utahime, smirking mischievously as she rolls her eyes at his approach. She leans back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want, Satoru? I'm busy."

Undeterred, Satoru props himself up against the opposite wall, leaning closer to her until their faces are mere inches apart. His eyes sparkle with playful intent. "Oh, come on, Utahime," Satoru drawls, that same devilish grin never leaving his face. "I wasn't expecting such a cold welcome from someone as warm and lovely as you. Can't a guy just say hi without getting the icy treatment?"

Satoru chuckles softly, shaking his head at her protest, before continuing his flirtatious banter. "Alright, alright, no need to be so defensive. But look at me, Utahime. You know you enjoy these little interactions between us. Admit it."

He leans even closer, their lips almost touching, and whispers, "You'd miss it if I stopped, wouldn't you?" His eyes locked on hers, daring her to object. Utahime scoffs, trying to hide her discomfort behind a forced laugh. "Like I would ever miss your constant flirting, Gojo. You're relentless."

But even as she speaks, her cheeks flush a light pink, a clear indication that Satoru's words have affected her. Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to meet those vibrant blue eyes directly.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING !", you yell, your voice echoing in the hallway.

Gojo Satoru and you have been dating for about six months, and everyone is aware of this. Yet, Gojo has a terrible inclination of flirting with others. It upsets you greatly.

You walk into the hallway, startling both Satoru and Utahime, who are engaged in a heated flirtation. They separate immediately, catching you off guard. What the hell are they doing? Your voice rings out sharply, revealing your emotions.

Utahime meets your gaze, guilt flashing across her face for a brief moment. Satoru, though, remains nonchalant. Pushing his sunglasses up his nose, he offers you a casual wave.

As you step closer, Utahime seems to sense danger and quickly excuses herself, slipping away from the scene before you can react. You turn your attention fully to Satoru, who now stands alone in the hallway with you.

"Well, well, what brings you here?" He asks, still maintaining his cool demeanor. His eyes gleam with a hint of defiance, challenging you to say something. You clench your fists, anger bubbling inside.

"I could ask you the same thing," you snap back, taking a step closer to him.

Before you can react, Satoru attempts to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His proximity makes your heart race, but you stiffen in resistance.

"Don't you dare," you hiss through gritted teeth, pushing against his chest to keep some distance between you two. For a moment, the tension between you is palpable. Your eyes lock, his vibrant blue irises meeting your own. In them, you see a mixture of defiance and challenge, daring you to push further. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. His attempt to pull you close stirs a whirlwind of emotions within you. You feel conflicted - between anger at his blatant disregard for your feelings and attraction to this man who continues to toy with your heartstrings.

For a moment, it seems like neither of you will back down. But then, finally, Satoru releases a sigh and takes a step back. "I apologize if I went too far," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends chills down your spine. "But you know how I am." There's a hint of playfulness in his voice, as if he's trying to lighten the mood after such a tense encounter.

"We are breaking up", you hear yourself saying the words, feeling every ounce of them ring true. A heaviness settles in the pit of your stomach, causing your knees to shake slightly. Seeing the shock wash over Satoru's face, you notice the smile fading away from his face. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems genuinely taken aback.

"Breaking up?" he repeats, disbelief tinging his voice. "Baby, please I am sorry"

"I mean it," you say firmly, standing your ground. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You swallow hard, trying to regain control of your emotions. "I can't do this anymore, Satoru. You don't love me, you fucking don't"

His eyes soften, and for a split second, he looks pained. But thenhe shakes his head, a determined glint entering his eyes. "No, no, you're wrong. I do love you, more than you know."

"Love me?!" you scoff, almost laughing at the absurdity of the statement. "How can you love me when you are flirting around with others. I've seen you doing the same with Mei Mei last week."

Satoru's lips thin into a tight line, his expression hardening. "It was just a friendly conversation," he insists, defensive undertones creeping into his voice. "You know that wasn't anything more than that."

"And I'm supposed to believe you? When I fucking saw you with my own eyes" you say incredulously, shaking your head. "I can't do this anymore, Satoru. You need to learn to control your urges if you want to be in a real relationship."

"Fine, fine please I am sorry, it won't happen again."He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair, seeming frustrated with himself and the situation. "I know, babygirl, you're right. I was stupid," he admits, meeting your gaze earnestly. "I never meant for this to end up like this. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear," he pleads, reaching for your hand.

You withdraw your hand. "No we are done", you already forgave him but you want to make him suffer for what he did.

The sting of rejection flashes across Satoru's features, and he watches as you pull your hand away, the warmth of his grasp replaced by cold air. Tension coils between them, thick enough to cut with a knife. The realization hits him that he has lost you, and it stings worse than any curse ever could - because unlike those, this loss is permanent.

"Please? I'll do anything.. Please babygirl?" he murmurs softly, his voice a mix of desperation andpleading.

You try to hide an upcoming smirk on your face, "Oh really anything?"

Satoru notes the smirk on your face and his eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering in their depths. "Anything," he confirms, crossing his arms over his chest. "Name it."

You watch him, enjoying the game you've started. He's so used to being in control and having the upper hand, and seeing him on edge, unsure, is oddly satisfying. It feels good to finally hold some power over him.

"You mean anything physically too?", your mind racing with the evil ideas.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What do you have in mind, my little butterfly? You know I'm always up for a challenge." His voice drips with playfulness, but there's no mistaking the heat beneath the surface, the promise of pleasure and pain mingling temptingly.

"Tonight at my place , I'll test my dearest boyfriend's love for me", you chuckle darkly.

"Test me, huh?" Satoru chuckles, the sound low and husky. "I'm intrigued, darling. I accept the challenge. Tonight, then." He winks, the mischief in his eyes undeniable as he leans closer, brushing a feather-light kiss against your temple before sauntering away, confidence oozing from every pore. The kiss sends shivers down your spine, leaving your body tingling in its wake. As Satoru walks away, you can feel the heat rise inside you, anticipation building.

You nod, feeling a strange sense of power over the situation. Tonight will be different, and you're excited to see how far he's willing to go for you.

You wait for Satoru, your nerves a jumbled mess of excitement and anxiety. Anticipation bubbles in your chest as you hear the doorbell ring. Taking a deep breath, you answer the door, and Satoru stands before you, looking every inch the charming playboy you fell for.

"Hello, darling," he greets, a devilish glint.

"Go straight to my bedroom", as soon as you gesture for him to follow, Satoru's eyes light up with understanding. He doesn't question your request, simply going to your bedroom, while you follow him.

The tension in the room is palpable, electric even. He takes in the preparations you've made, raising an eyebrow, but he says nothing, waiting for you to lead the way. The air is heavy with unspoken words, both of you aware that things are different tonight.

"Take off your clothes," you command, your voice steadier than you expected. Satoru's eyes widening slightly at your directness, slowly, he undresses, his muscles rippling under his pale skin. When he's finally standing before you, with only his boxers on, your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. His eyes never leave yours, a challenge burning in their depths. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure.

"Now what, love?" he asks, his voice a sultry.

"On the bed, Satoru," you instruct, your voice steady despite the tremors in your knees. Surprisingly, he doesn't argue. Moving to the bed, he lies down obediently, eyes locked on you as you begin to strip down. Nerves threaten to consume you, but you push them aside. One by one, you remove your clothes until you're left in just your underwear.

Your heart races, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him as you walk towards the bed. "Spread your legs," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. There's a newfound power in these words, in this moment, and it thrills you. Satoru complies without hesitation, his eyes never leaving you as you move closer. Your hands shake slightly as you reach for the ropes you prepared earlier.

"Do you think you can handle me, Satoru?" you ask, your voice rough with desire and nervousness. "Or will you beg me to stop?"

Satoru's eyes gleam at your question, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the exertion of restraint. "Never," he growls, his tone determined and full of promise. "I trust you, my butterfly. Show me what you've got."

The warmth in his eyes fuels your courage, and you waste no time in binding his hands above his head, securing them firmly to the bed frame. His breathing quickens, and the satisfaction you feel at his submission is heady. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it, the contrast between his silken strands and his rock-hard body.

"Now," you say, a boldness creeping into your voice. With a wolfish smile, you straddle his hips, grinding your hips slowly against his erection. The sensation is exhilarating, the power dynamic shifting in a way that makes your blood rush. You moan softly at the feel of him against you, your panties dampening with your arousal. Leaning down, you trail kisses along his collarbone, his skin warm and smooth under your lips.

His breath hitches, and you can hear the rapid beating of his heart, pounding in sync with your own. As you reach his nipple, you gently bite it, drawing a gasp from him. He arches beneath you, and you feel a rush of triumph. The taste of his skin is salty, the sensation electrifying. Switching sides, you repeat the process, leaving no part of his chest untouched. His skin is perfect against your mouth, and your senses are on fire.

As you finish with his second nipple, you lean back, gazing into his eyes as you watch his reaction to your every move. They're filled with lust and desire, a testament to your growing confidence. A sly grin tugs at the corner of your lips as you take his nipple between your teeth once more, eliciting a sharp intake of air from him. You tease him, sucking lightly and releasing, repeating the process until he's squirming beneath you.

"S-stop doing that with my nipples", he rasps, his voice thick with need. You hum in approval, leaning down to nibble on the sensitive bud again.

"Is that a plea, Satoru? Or a demand?" you ask, your voice low and seductive. You trace a finger down his flat abdomen, feeling theplayful. "You know, I could keep doing this all night if I wanted to. Would you like that?"

His struggles become more pronounced, his hips bucking in need of friction. "No, please... Stop..." he groans, the word sounding more like a plea than a command. You chuckle darkly, loving the effect you're having on him.

"Such contradictions from you, Satoru. Such need." You pinch his nipple gently, twisting it slightly, and he cries out, his hips bucking wildly. "Oh, the strongest man mewling like crazy," you bite your lip, seductively.

His cock brushing against your wet panties, the friction driving him wild. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his skin flushed with passion.

"What do you want, Satoru?" you ask, your voice sultry and demanding. "Do you want me to release you and ravish you like my dear little pet, or should I continue torturing you with my mouth?" His eyes flicker between desperation and defiance, the struggle clear in his gaze.

"Take.. me, please," he finally concedes, the words rushed and desperate. You smirk at his surrender, leaning down to kiss him passionately. Your tongues dance, your hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of his muscles. Your heart is pounding, the scent of his skin intoxicating.

Slowly, you take out his rock like dick, from his boxers, yanking it off. You pull away from the passionate kiss, reaching down to grasp his cock firmly. He winces at the abrupt change, his eyes widening in anticipation. A wicked glint appears in yours, enjoying the power dynamic that's shifted. Gently, you squeeze his shaft, eliciting a choked gasp from him. His body trembles under your grip, his breath hitching in surprise.

"Aww" you taunt, your voice dripping with mockery. His eyes lock onto yours, pleading for mercy.

"Just... Just stop, please," he whispers hoarsely, his body tense with discomfort. You chuckle darkly, tightening your grip further.

"Already begging me to stop? Didn't you tell me you will be able to take this?" You question mockingly, your gaze intense.

His breath hitches, his gaze darting to the ceiling as he tries to find some semblance of control.

"You love how much I push the limits, Satoru. Admit it," you challenge, squeezing his shaft again, the tension between you palpable.

"Please let me cum, Y/N, I beg of you", he begs. Your grip tightens, his breath hitching in pain.

"Only when I say so, mister," you respond coldly, your voice holding no remorse.

He writhes beneath you, his muscles clenching with each squeeze. His eyes plead for mercy, but you remain relentless. Your thumb rubs over the head of his cock, teasing him mercilessly.

You lean down, your lips brushing against the tip of his cock, letting the precum coat your lower lip before pulling back. You give his cock a few firm pumps, letting him savor the pleasure before you engulf his length in your mouth. Your tongue swirls over the head, your lips working up and down his shaft. His breath hitches, his head tossing back as you suck him off. He bucks his hips upward, seeking more contact, but you hold him down firmly.

As you tease him, you hear his ragged breaths echo in the room. The tip of your tongue flicks over his sensitive spot, drawing a groan from him. His hips jerk erratically, trying to push deeper into your mouth. You slow down, taking him completely in your mouth, sucking him gently. His breathing becomes more labored, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Slowly, you pick up the pace, bobbing your head rhythmically. You feel him growing more rigid under your touch, his moans filling the air. As he nears his climax, you pull back, leaving just the tip of his cock in your mouth.

With a strangled cry, he comes in your mouth, his release pouring forth. You take his cum in your mouth and force his mouth open with your two fingers, letting the cum spill onto his tongue. He gasps, his eyes wide with shock and lust. Your hand cups his jaw, forcing him to swallows hastily, his gaze locked with yours.

"That's for pushing me too far," you murmur, a smirk playing on your lips. "Now, we'll see if you learn your lesson."

With a wicked smile, you peel off your panties, revealing your wetness to him. He watches hungrily, his eyes never leaving your pussy. You start grinding on him, rubbing against his spent cock. His hands tugging against the ropes. He moans softly, his voice indicating his need to be inside you.

His cock responds to your movements, hardening once more. You continue your slow, sensuous dance.

You increase the intensity of your thrusts, your clit grinding against his cock. His hips buck wildly, struggling against the restraints, but he remains trapped. You watch as his expression twists between pain and pleasure, his cheeks flushed. Sensing that he's about to climax again, you lean forward, hovering above him.

With a final press of your clit against his cock, you send him over the edge. Cum arcs upwards, splattering across his cheek, staining his handsome face. A low growl escapes his throat as he glares up at you, a mix of frustration and lust burning in his eyes. You laugh softly, leaning in to kiss him gently.

"I wonder how Utahime and Mei-Mei will react after seeing the strongest man so vulnerable under my feet," smirking, you lift one leg, placing your foot on his chest before bringing it down hard on his still-softening cock. He winces, but you can tell he enjoys the sensation. It brings his cock back to half-mast, and your eyes gleam with victory.

"Getting hard again? Insatiable" You tease, your toes lightly tracing the underside of his shaft. He grunts, nodding weakly.

"Shall I sent them a photo of you like this ?"

He shakes his head, a hint of fear in his eyes. "Don't...please," he whispers, his voice hoarse. You chuckle and climb off him, sitting beside him.

"Beg me", you grin evily.

He swallows hard, his eyes pleading. "Please, don't send it. Please, don't humiliate me like that."

You lean closer, his manly scent enveloping you. "Do you want me to stop here?"

His eyes flicker to your feet, then back to your face. "No, please, don't stop. I want to be inside you," he begs, desperation clear in his voice. You run your finger along his jaw

With a satisfied hum, you climb back on top of him, positioning yourself over his hardened cock.

As you slide down, you feel his cock stretch you, filling you completely. He lets out a low groan, his body trembling. Your nails dig into his chest, your movement deliberate and unhurried.

"Please, untie me..." he begs, his voice raspy.

You smirk, "no not till I cum."

He grits his teeth, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Please, they hurt," he whispers, his voice filled with longing. You lean down, brushing your lips against his ear.

"Take the pain if you love me."

His breathing hitches, his eyes locked on yours. With a nod, he agrees. You pick up your pace, your body slamming against his. He strains against the ropes, his muscles bulging. You could see the effort in his face, feeling his need for release.

His thrusts become frantic, his cock hitting your g-spot with every movement. You cry out, your orgasm building rapidly. But just as you're about to reach the peak, he releases inside you. His cock pulses, spilling hot liquid deep within you. The feeling sends shockwaves through you, but you don't cum.

He pants heavily, his eyes watering, back arching and finally falling on the bed. "Sorry, I couldn't hold back..."

"I didn't get to cum, thanks to you asshole", you pout angrily at him.

His drool dripping down his chin; he calms himself down.

"Ride my face, sugar," he commands, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

You straddle his face, his tongue sliding through your folds, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He tastes himself mixed with your sweet nectar. You gasp, your hand tangling in his hair, guiding his tongue deeper.

"Swallow everything you find," you command, your hips rocking. He obeys, his tongue darting in and out, his nose taking in your scent. His eyes lock onto your slickened entrance, his gaze intense. You groan, your core tightening as he flicks his tongue against your clit. Suddenly, you explode, your orgasm washing over you. Wave after wave crashes through you, your body quivering. He sucks harder, swallowing every drop of your release.

Once you've calmed down, you slide off his face, collapsing next to him. You trace your fingers over his ropes, slowly undoing them. As he rubs his wrists, you wrap your arms around him.

"Thank you" he murmurs, his voice muffled against your chest.

"For what?" you question, your arms tightening.

"For driving me insane, for making me realize my feelings for you..."

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Love you"

He returns the gesture, hugging you tighter.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

Slowly, his breathing evens out, his muscles relaxing. A sense of peace washes over you, and soon, you drift off to sleep, too.

Together, secure in each other's arms, your bond strengthened, knowing that you both found something precious in each other - genuine love, affection, and connection. In the warmth of his embrace, you understand that sometimes, the most unexpected events can bring forth the most meaningful relationships.

[twistedlovelines]

Riddle..... Riddle getting pegged for the first time

Ugh I'm gonna be sick 😵

IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FR...

he's not really been. exposed to the idea of anal besides hearing his fellow classmates joke about it and hearing the occasional story from cater. so when you propose the idea to him his knee jerk reaction is to den you outright but. it's you. you, who's never pushed him beyond what he could handle, had never been angry at his refusal, and had been patient when he would teeter on the precipice of exploration but had only allowed himself to fall with your hand guiding him through...

so he bites his tongue instead of snapping at the idea outright. focuses his gaze on the corner of your hand instead of your eyes and asks what that entails. feels himself smile when your face brightens in excitement and you move to his side and pull out your laptop. you've already saved a few toys and guides on how to prepare oneself for getting pegged, and you explain the idea to him as thought it were art- it is, you insist.

you ask if he'd prefer for you to finger him for the first time, and he finds himself agreeing easily. having your reassurance, your certainty guide him through the act is comforting. the tips of his ears burn a lovely red when your lubed finger presses up against his hole, and he finds himself whimpering as you enter him, arching his chest into yours.

"you're doing so well for me," you croon, and he nearly cums on the spot.

~

you do this a few more times with him, shifting to the use of small dildos to get him used to the stretch of your own cock. the initial discomfort fades quickly after so much training, and riddle whines the first time he sees you wear your strap, thighs opening without a second thought.

you had spent the past hour or so prepping him already, and his pretty cock hovers above his abdomen as you position yourself, a pearl of pre-cum dripping onto his scarlet pubes.

"are you just going to stand there," he demands, feeling his face grow warm at how much it sounds like a plea.

"easy," you chuckle, stroking the lubed surface of your strap, leaning forward to brush a kiss against his lips. "I don't want to hurt you."

he knows. and its infuriating- your consideration of his comfort has been nothing but kind, yet he can't help but wish you were a bit less gentle with him, let him feel your desire run along his skin hot enough to leave marks.

he knows you know this, and the kisses you pepper his neck with, combined with the weight of your strap's head resting at his hole make him nearly want to wrest it from you himself.

which is why his legs wrap around your waist tightly after you've eased your way in fully, a sharp keen rising from riddle's throat as he grinds against the base of your strap. he feels your breath puff against his skin in a breathy chuckle, hands braced against either side of his head as you bow over his form in a sort of reverence that makes riddle want to cry.

"i've made you impatient, haven't i," you laugh, gaze meeting his with nothing short of fondness. "sorry about that, riddle."

you kiss him as your hips rock against his own, savoring each gasp and moan that flees from his mouth.

"i'll make it up to you, promise."

[febster]

Im back for another fic! Its been like a year ive written a fic and this time its on hsr mainly focusing on our dragon boy dan heng:P This is just a one-sided fic in a way, more focused on Dan Heng's side in a way??? This may be a bit ooc too for some;; but i hope ya'll still like it

requests are open^^~!

Instinct

-a look at dan heng's actions when it comes to his new dragonic traits and perhaps a little crush to their new member in the express

(gender neutral y/n!)

(y/n is an entirely different character from the MC of hsr!)

~

"…" Blankly staring at the top of his room, unable to sleep, he felt restless after what had happened during the past few weeks. Time passed by a bit fast for him to handle after accepting his past, especially being a Vidyadhara which was almost life-changing for him—many things needed adjustment and the feelings that come in life for being a Vidyadhara were just something he didn't expect to have. He could faintly recall the number of times he had acted out of character when he was with his family, he let out a groan in response when he had accidentally popped out his fangs when he had yawned out loud near the Astral Family.

He sits up abruptly, touching his mouth as if to feel his fangs, faintly recalling the expression of a certain crew member. 

__ “Woah…” Y/N's expression was in awe, as if they had seen a making of art right in front of them.

__ He could feel the blood rushing to his face, his skin prickling with the sudden heat of embarrassment. It was just one word but why did it make him feel so differently than he normally would? His embarrassment from memories didn't help ease this restless feeling he had. He glanced at his bed, bothered by how that once familiar comfort of his bed was now unsettling. Giving him a feeling to do something but he does not know what.

Frustrated, he lets out a low growl, escaping his lips, and staring at the floor. He couldn't just shake the feeling that something was off and wrong, he couldn't even understand this sudden discomfort that he was feeling, it was this urge gnawing at him as if to tell him that he should do something. Abruptly, he pushed his blanket off him, with a resigned sigh, he slides off the mattress, the room slowly filled with the cloth rustling and the sound of water beneath him.

He is rashly moving based on instinct, he does not even know what he is really doing but he follows. He rearranges his pillows and blanket, he even got some more from the Express storage closet, now all thrown haphazardly on the mattress.

It didn't take long for him to stop and just see the mess, "What am I even doing" Dan Heng sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. But there was no answer, only this pesky feeling of an urge that he needed to do this.

With a huff, he began to rearrange his bed, he spread the blankets and pillows out, creating a nest-like structure. Following his instincts, he played around with the pillows. pushed them around the edges like a fort. It felt strange to say the least, especially on why on earth he is even doing this. 

But he was satisfied, he even brought little trinkets from their adventures and placed them close to his makeshift nest, placed in a safe position. Stepping back, he looked at the nest he had made, it was just odd why he had done this but at such sight, he found himself preening at his work.

Dan Heng hesitated for a moment, with a deep breath, he climbed into the center of the nest, he was careful as if not wanting to disrupt the space. Settling into the warmth, he finds himself curling up finding it comforting despite being prepared suddenly. A contented purr escaped his lips, now closing his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

But...

He felt something different again, this new feeling as if there was still lacking within his nest. Despite it gave him a sense of security and comfort, it still felt lacking. Raising his head, he glanced at the empty spot beside him.

?

Huh, he had believed that he made it enough just for him to rest on so why is there an extra space? Dan Heng pondered wanting to know the reason for it, but as he let his thoughts wander, it shifted to the thought of Y/N.

!

Taken aback by his thoughts, he snaps back to reality. Why did he start to think about Y/N? But oddly, he didn't reject the thought of Y/N being there beside him, it was comforting for its thought. He was flustered at such things, that he reprimanded himself. For a person like Y/N, there must be somewhere out there within those planets who already have their heart.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he forced himself to curl up back to his nest, a frown on his face as he tried to focus on something else.

[catscidr]

cw: emetophobia. mentionned panic attack and intercourse. fluff. hurt/comfort. f!reader. not proofread

“Suguru, can you heat up my microwavable pad?”

“Sugu, can you get me some hair clips?”

“Sugu, can I have water?”

You thought you had it under control; being no stranger to bouts of panic and random waves of nausea, you’ve mastered the art of taking deep breaths and reassuring yourself that the nauseous feeling will eventually pass.

But, as strong as you are, everyone has moments of weakness.

After finally deciding to bite the bullet, you were able to contact a doctor to get a prescription for birth control. From painful period cramps to not wanting to have sex with a condom every time you and Suguru got under the sheets, it felt like the next step to take for your health. You wanted your birth control to help alleviate the cramps that left you bedridden for days and wanted to be able to be intimate with your boyfriend without the stress of possible pregnancy.

All things considered, it’s not like you were completely unaware of the possible side effects of birth control—the infamous pamphlet that could serve as a blanket is pretty hard to miss when you first unbox your prescription.

You’ve spoken to your girlfriends about how nervous you were to start birth control, and they were all as understanding and sweet as one would expect.

After a short pep talk with yourself and your bathroom mirror, you put the patch on your arm and were officially part of the twinkie crew, formerly a toaster strudel.

…in a couple of days. Your doctor informed you to avoid having intercourse without protection for at least five days to let your body acclimate itself to the hormones flowing through you thanks to the patch on your arm.

So now, instead of having a productive afternoon, you’re sat on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom with an empty bucket across of you alongside a cardboard box you meant to throw out that now serves as a makeshift table.

“Here you are, darling.” Suguru places the glass of water on your ‘table’, silently watching how you’re holding up. His gaze lingers on the small patch on your arm, anger boiling in his gut because how dare this piece of rubber hurt my girlfriend like this, but he holds off on removing your source of pain directly knowing that it'd do more harm than good. “How do you feel now?”

You can sense his eyes on you, but you feel so ashamed of yourself for being so panicky over vomiting that you refuse to sit up from your position, all hunched over your plastic emotional support bucket. “Still gross. M’ face feels... tingly.”

He crouches beside you, gently rubbing your back to soothe you. “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

You shake your head after a second of thought, busy focusing on your self-acupuncture massage on the insides of your wrists to think of whatever else could aid your discomfort.

Observing you, Suguru sighs lightly. He sits down on the ground properly and takes ahold of one of your arms himself to replace your thumb with his. Rubbing gentle but firm circles into your tendon, he applies light pressure, and watches your brows furrow in discomfort then relax ever so slightly.

“Focus on calming your heart rate, baby. Can you do that for me? Deep breaths,” he hums softly. Nodding weakly, you try to inhale slowly but a wave of nausea hits you. Your forehead bonks the edge of the bucket and you begin to—almost—hyperventilate.

Your face feels hot, you feel pressure building up your throat and you're shaking like a leaf. “Don’t look at me,” you whimper, weakly pushing Suguru’s face to look off to the side. He ignores your plea and brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear.

“You’re okay,” he muses. “This’ll pass like it always has. The nausea you feel isn’t any different from other times you’ve felt like throwing up; you always ended up fine.“ Suguru stops massaging your arm and places his hand on your cheek. You lean into him, feeling a wave of comfort come from your chest as you keen at the cold touch of his palm.

The corners of his lips curl upward. “Can you swallow?” he asks, bending down to take a proper look at your face.

You try, straightening your back and taking a deep breath before swallowing your saliva. Suguru hums, whispering a quiet good, relieved that you're able to cooperate.

“You know, my mom used to tell me that, if I ever felt nauseous, I should try swallowing. If I was physically able to swallow, then I would be fine.” He rubs his thumb over the apples of your cheek gently, watching your eyes crack open. “There’s my girl,” he hums with a smile.

Nuzzling into his palm, you groan quietly. "Don't look at me, I look gross," you huff. Through the anxiety and nausea, your heart swells at how attentive and patient Suguru is.

The sound of the television in the living room sounds distant from your little bubble with Suguru, lost in whatever trance he held you in. "You're okay," he reassures. "How do you feel now?"

Swallowing once again, you take a deep breath and adjust the heated pad on your abdomen. You take a minute to feel, repeating Suguru's comforting words in your groggy mind.

"I feel... decent," you murmur. "Better."

His shoulders visibly lose tension as he smiles, and he leans forward to press a soft but lingering kiss to your forehead.

"That's what I like to hear. Can you stand?"

Part of you wants to shake your head, to stay sat on the ground and wallow in your despair because Gods your legs felt so numb, but you'd much rather be in Suguru's company than to be left alone with your own thoughts.

You nod, and ever the gentleman, your boyfriend loops your arm around his shoulder to help you stand up. Though your legs are wobbly, he keeps you upright, guiding you to the living room couch.

"Pick out something to watch," he says. "I'll be back with some crackers and your bucket, just in case. Any special requests?"

Leaning back into the cushions, you shake your head as you sigh, content. "No. Jus' need you with me," you hum.

As Suguru flashes you an award winning smile, he eases your worries with the same smooth voice that greets your eardrums every day. "I'll always stay with you, princess."

And you shut your eyes, comforted with the knowledge that, no matter how gross you may feel or how sickly you may be, Suguru won't ever leave your side.

[conchcronch]

Kinktober 2024: Day 8

WC: 1406

Summary: No matter how rough he is in bed, how tightly you’re bound, how swiftly you’re smacked, he’ll always be his most gentle in the hours after.

His hands were on you before your orgasm had fully tapered out. Your eyes were still blurry with tears, your bound legs aching and your cunt buzzing with overstimulation. You blinked, trying to clear your eyes so you could watch how he pulled at the deep purple knots that decorated your body. When his eyes catch your gaze, the corner of his lips soften, the closest thing to a smile you get. “Do you need anything?” Was the first thing from his lips. He watched as you furrowed your brow, trying to find words, any words but eventually opting to just shake your head.

He pulled at the knots on your legs first, knowing they would likely be the source of most of your discomfort, bound in a bent position so you were forcibly spread for him. You watched his gaze, with every loosened knot he flicked his eyes back up to you, making sure you weren’t silently requesting something. When one leg was untied, he guided it straight, his fingers running along the indents in your plush thighs as he rested your leg outstretched on the bed. He turned to your other leg, repeating the action on untying the expertly tied knots that he had spent what felt like hours tying as he teased you for twice as long. He tossed the rope onto the bedspread, crawling onto the bed and guiding you into an upright sitting position as he began working on your arms that were bound behind your back. He watched you wiggle your toes, his hands working blindly as he trained his eyes on you. “My love, did you lose feeling?” His voice was emotionless, but inside anxiety began to bubble.

“No” your voice was ragged, it sounded how you felt.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, flexing your legs and leaning your body against his.

“I’m sure.” He hummed, about as convinced as he would allow, mentally noting how he was going to feel along your legs for any cold spots that could illude to blood flow issues. The room fell silent again, your arms eventually freed from behind you before Mihawk shifted off the bed again, tossing the ropes over the small bench at the foot of the bed to be inspected, oiled and coiled. He ducked into the on suite for a second, returning as the sound of running water filled the room, in his hand was a tub of something along with a glass of water that was promptly handed to you. He grabbed a black silk robe, typing it around his waist, laying a matching one on the bed for you.

“Do you want it on now, or after?” He unscrewed the lid of the tub, the smell of coconut filling your nose as you shifted to sit up more, the plush pillows behind you making not falling asleep a difficult task.

“What’s that?” You moved your head, trying to get a peek at whatever was inside as he moved to perch on the edge of the bed beside you, moving the tub so you could look at the thick, milky white substance inside.

“Coconut oil,” he paused, waiting for you to make some sort of gesture to allow him to move forward, but you were confused. This had been your first bondage experience, your first BDSM experience really, so you were taking things as they came, learning as much as you could, both about the art and yourself. ”For the wax.” He allowed his eyes to slip down your body, drips of dried black wax peppered your skin in a way that even now, he found his body begin to ache for you.

You allowed yourself to look down at your body, between the wax and the imprints of the ropes you thought you looked like a mess, but in Mihawk’s eyes, you had never looked so beautiful. Your hair was tousled, cheeks pink, your body wax splattered and a mix of hickies and light bruises peppered your skin. “Gods,” Your ran shaky fingers through your hair, trying to push your hair back in a way that didn’t look completely awful “I must look horrible.” He noticed the way you pulled your legs up against your body, your arms wrapping around your shins in an attempt to cover yourself before he could put your thoughts at ease.

“Quite the opposite my little rabbit,” with a gentle hand he pressed against your thighs, not hard enough to push but enough to guide your legs away from your body “you look absolutely stunning.” You could feel his seed begin to ooz out of you, the feeling making you grimace as he gathered a small amount of coconut oil on his finger, rubbing it between his palms before running them over your body carefully. “If this hurts, or is too much, just tell me.” Slowly he works his hands over to your breasts, the wax falling from your skin and onto the bed. He did his best to not linger on your nipples, knowing they were likely over sensitive from hours of teasing, your almost silent whimper confirming that. His hands avoided your most intimate parts, despite the amount of wax that had dripped from your pubis down along your outer lips, he wanted to give that area as much time untouched as he could, opting instead to rub down your thighs. He added a bit more pressure along your inner thighs, knowing your muscles would be sore from being in such a difficult position for so long, a low moan slipping from your relaxed lips.

When all the wax was gone and you were left smelling like a tropical breeze you laid back into his pillows, your eyes fluttering shut for only a second before you felt his hand on your cheek. “I’ve run you a bath, but if you want to get some sleep it can wait until the morning.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to resist you.

”No,” You shook your head, your eyes opening and meeting his. “A bath sounds really nice.” Before you could say anything else, he slipped one arm under your knees, the other behind your back, picking you up like you weighed less then Yoru and carrying you into his bathroom.

The main light was off overhead, the only light coming from the partially covered lights above the sink, the room smelled faintly of roses and the water has a few bubbles resting on top. He knelt down, helping you stand with a hand on your hip and the other taking your hand so you could step into the tub, the warm water feeling absolutely divine against your tormented limbs. You tipped your head back, your neck following the curve of the edge of the clawfoot tub, your eyes opening to see him about to close the door.

“Dracule” His first name slipped so easily from your lips, and clearly the sound of his rarely used given name stopping him in his tracks. “Why are you leaving?” He stepped back, opening the door with relaxed expression on his face.

”You need to relax.”

“And you don’t?” You pulled a dripping hand from the water, holding it outstretched towards him. “Please” He exhaled through his nose, one hand pulling at the tie of his robe before hanging it up on the back of the door. His naked form was nothing short of exquisite, as though it was chiseled from a block of the finest marble across the seas. You couldn’t help but notice a single hickey on his neck, something that had gotten you a swift slap to your most cunt, almost as though he didn’t wear the mark with pride. You leaned forward, pulling your legs against your chest to give him ample room to sit behind you, his arms quickly encircling your waist and tugging you back against him. The feeling of your back against his firm chest, his heart beating steadily against you was enough to lull you to sleep. His even breathes mimicking your own, his hands resting on your belly and his lips occasionally pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Get some sleep my love, I’ll be right here.” His words were quiet enough that you almost thought it was your imagination, but when you felt his thumb stroke idol lines on your stomach you knew he wasn’t going anywhere until you were awake.