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smutoperator · 1 month

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Morning Roses

Park Chaeyoung (Rosé) x Male Reader

Tags: breeding kink, CMNF, (lots of) cock stroking, creampie, (lots of) fingering, good smell, morning sex, passionate sex, pussy sniffing, quickie, (a little) rimjob, switching

Word Count: 3177

Los Angeles, United States

It's early in the morning, and you're already up to go to work. The busy traffic of Los Angeles is implacable. However, as you were preparing to take your regular morning commute, you got a text message from a longtime lover you hadn't seen in a while.

"I'm in LA today; come see me." Rosé texted you. It had been a while since she had sent you a message. It used to be a given that she would come to your place every time she went to LA, but with her taking new steps into her solo career, you two were unable to see each other the last couple times she went to the city of angels.

You immediately canceled any of your plans, ready to see Rosé again after a long time. The selfie she had sent you drove you insane—her long blond hair, short skirt, long legs, and skinny body looking better than ever. She was truly aging like fine wine, becoming a hotter and hotter woman as time passed by.

You arrived at the house Rosé had sent the location to you; she greeted you with the same outfit she was wearing on that selfie. On a hot summer morning, Rosé got herself on the couch barefoot, close to the fan, as she stared at you reading this morning news, running her hands on her hair.

Rosé approaches you. "What are you waiting for?" she asks. "Why didn't you call me the last few times you were in LA?" You decide to play it tough with her. "Sorry, I was busy," she said. "And you don't think I'm busy today?" you punch back.

Rosé takes matters into her own hands, snatching your phone away as she sits on your lap, reclining her slim body onto yours. She doesn't say any words, just letting you slowly build up your uncontrollable desire for her as the flowery smell of hers invades your nostrils.

You two look at each other, pondering who's going to make the first move. You sniff Rosé's neck while she runs her hands into yours. She turns around, but you decide to play it tough, avoiding her seductive eye contact.

But Rosé has more than one way to seduce you. It's been five years since you first met, all the way back to her first performance at Coachella. She knows you can't resist her allure. She moves your hands into her body, placing them right at her erogenous zones. "I missed your touch so much, baby," she says.

"But there is something I missed much more," Rosé says shortly after, loudly unzipping your pants and reaching under them. You kiss her neck and blow a gust of wind into her ears, trying to react, but she's already far ahead, giving you a bright smile as she takes your belt completely off.

Rosé quickly brings you to your knees as she starts stroking your big cock. "Did you miss my touch?" she asks, bragging. "Ohhhh shit," is all you can say, your shaft pressed between Rosé's clothes, yours and her hand, her carefully masturbating your erection and growing bigger and bigger at each move.

You can no longer resist and pull Rosé's top to the side, showing her perky little milky tits and touching them. "Fuck," you whisper, reaching under her skirt and taking her panties off at the same time you pull her skirt down.

Rosé kisses you, taking her hands off your cock and letting you search for her tight entrance. You let out a couple moans as your dick slowly slides inside her slit. Now it's Rosé's turn to moan, holding your hand as her pussy slowly engulfs your cock.

You dive your head into Rosé's tits as her tight walls crush your cock. In contrast to her usually bustling life in LA, Rosé is in no hurry, moving her hips at a very slow motion and warming up your cock with her sexy moves. She places her hands in her pussy and rubs her clit, following it with some caressing in your shaft. You now move into kissing her armpits and wondering how she can smell so good without any perfume, just au naturel.

Rosé increases the pace of her riding, taking your cock deeper in her pussy while she kisses you and you caress her clit. She then pauses a bit, letting you enjoy her clit as your fingers and your cock now simultaneously penetrate her pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck, your hands massage it so well," Rosé says as they stimulate her throbbing insides, and she kisses you once again. Her moans get louder, your cock digs deeper and deeper in her cunt, your hands do the same in her clit, she moves her hips, trying to answer your increasingly hotter stimulation.

Rosé's long legs shake and close as you massage her clit at full force now. "FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHH," she screams, your touch bringing her to her knees, the stimulation being so much for her that Rosé is unable to keep your cock inside her pussycat. But you don't care and just keep your hands working on her clit, proving that you can make her cum without even using your cock to do so.

You're now ready to turn the slim Aussie into your fucktoy. Your shaft is barely visible, just peeking out of your pants and then quickly disappearing in Rosé's pink pussy. She tries to resume her ride but is already too weak to continue, letting you kiss her perky tits instead. Rosé plays with her nipples as you suck them and goes back to massage her pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhh, I can't take it; your hands are so good, fuckkkk me," she moans.

"OH FUCKKKKK," Rosé screams, as you don't even need to thrust upwards to dominate her perfect pussy, just letting your hands do all the work as they hit the Aussie slut's throbbing folds. Rosé once again can't handle your touch, squirting as your cock slides out of her cunt for a second time.

Seeing that you're easily winning the battle, Rosé changes her strategy, turning around and getting your cock back in her pussy as her panties still hang on by her thigh. She starts slow and romantically kisses you as she picks up the pace to ride your cock, pressing her nails against your suit. Her fast rides quickly turn the tide, as you're now the one hanging on for your dear life each time Rosé manages to get your shaft all the way down in her pink pussy and her hips clash against your balls.

"OH MY GOD BABY, OH MY GOD, YESSSS, KEEP DOING THAT!" you scream as Rosé's pussy bounces up and down your cock. "God damn it, you are such a good slut riding on my cock," you tell her.

"You like it, baby?" Rosé asks with a smile on her face. She really loves to be on top of the world—well, on top of a big cock, which is basically the same for her—loving to see you struggling with her tight walls after you made the throb a couple minutes ago with that massage. "Damn it, your pussy is so tight," you say to Rosé. "And your cock is so amazing stretching it out," she replies, as you cling into her tits and suck them like a baby to save yourself from cumming.

Rosé takes what is still left of her top off, getting herself fully naked. The contrast of Rosé's goddess body with no clothes on and yours fully clothed as the morning sunlight invades the room is a sight to behold. She climbs off your body and pulls your pants down, getting on her knees to taste her juicy pussy out of your cock.

But before doing so, she teases you a bit, playing with your balls and eating your asshole while sniffing your thobbing shaft. "It smells like morning roses; it looks like I really left my mark on it," she says as she moves up to savor your balls and strokes your shaft, looking at you with naughty eyes as she performs a kissing blowjob, paying lots of attention to the tip and putting her sexy lips all over it.

"Fuck, fuck," it's all you can whisper as Rosé handles your shaft. You push her body close to yours to enjoy it as you two share more kisses; her never stop stroking that big cock, going even faster as you move into her neck and grip her ass, trying to survive her magical hands working all over that cock.

Rosé now holds your cocks with both hands, emerging as the clear winner as she arches her back and dominates you from top to bottom. Her naked butt looks absolutely perfect. You try to counter, using the same fingers that brought her pussy into submission to now dig inside her asshole. Bur Rosé quickly nullifies your attack, diving face-down straight to your cock while putting her ass up for you to look at and drool over.

"Like this, like this," you say as Rosé performs the boss-chair blowjob on you. But truth be told, she's the real boss, sucking the life out of your cock, getting especially sloppy with the tip as she spits all over it. "Yes, oh yes," you say as Rosé massages your prostate, sticking her long index finger up your butthole. She looks at you with dirty eyes, loving how your big cock is all hers to enjoy.

But you are determined to flip things around, putting Rosé in the chair as you dive to suck her tits and reaching your hands into her pink pussy. The chair rocks from side to side as you pin Rosé to it and dominate her, descending down her body and kissing it at every possible erogenous zone: her neck, her tits, her navel, her legs, and last, but not least, her amazing tight pussy.

You rest your head at Rosé's pussy, eating and sniffing it as she closes her eyes and naugtly moans. Good god, her pussy must have the best smell on earth. You never get tired of it. Even though you have known for a long time how good it tastes, each time she manages to surprise you with that amazing rose scent that quickly invades your nostrils and refuses to leave.

Rosé clenches her legs as you sniff her delicious clit. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, please eat that pussy like that," she moans, contorting her body all over the chair, trying to resist the magical work of your tongue. You give her a little rest as Rosé gets out of breath, taking your suit off. But not for long. As soon as she gives you that sexy stare that drives you crazy, you two go back to trading kisses and working your tongues all over your mouths.

But now you want to work a different part of your body on Rosé's, getting your cock back in her pussy as you lay Rosé's light body on top of the chair, admiring her perfect bikini mark as the sunlight makes her beautiful body glow.

"Lay down," you tell Rosé, slowly pushing her body down as you touch her breasts, her moans getting sexier than ever. "Please, baby, take it deep in my pussy," Rosé begs as you start thursting once again slowly, building up the heat inside her fuckhole. The summer heat forces you to take your clothes off as you pound her hard and finger her nipples. "AHHHHHHH," Rosé screams as you choke her, your cock now bulging under her skinny belly. You stop a bit to kiss her before coming full force to pound her tight pussy.

Rosé's body gets completely pinned down to the chair as you fuck her in a mating press position. "That's so good, that's so good, you're sending me to heaven," she moans as she fingers her clit, doubling the stimulation as you hit her pussy all the way down to her cervix.

"FUCK DAMN IT!" Rosé screams as your cock stretches her tight pussy even further. You look at her eye to eye, whispering dirty words in her ear. "I'm going to put a baby in this hot Aussie womb," you tell her. "Make you look like a kangaroo when I breed that pussy," you continue.

Rosé's skin turns red as she really gets down to the idea of getting impregnated. "Please, baby, get me pregnant; I want it so much," she says as you rest your cock close to her womb.

But you're not going to do that yet, wanting to enjoy Rosé's slutty body a little more. "First, I'm going to fuck the shit out of this beautiful pussy," you tell her, spitting on her face. "AHHHHHH, PLEASE, DESTROY THAT PUSSY," she begs as you grab her body and hit her cunt full speed, groping her tits with one hand and massaging her belly with the other, feeling your cock poke under it multiple times.

You flip Rosé around as soon as she squirts a little. "I didn't tell you to cum, slut. Now arch that back and put that ass up," you demand of Rosé, who lets out a moan. "Keep going, show me how much that big fucking cock loves to fuck my pussy," she punches back.

Rosé gets her knees on the floor as you grab her beautiful ass from behind. She looks more submissive than ever. You pull her hair and increase the pace, pounding her pussy fast, hard, and deep and enjoying the massive recoil of her ass each time your balls hit her pale cheeks.

"You're so fucking perfect," you say to Rosé. "Tell me how much you love it then, baby," she replies. "Tell me how much you fucking love fucking me," she continues. "Is that your pussy?" she asks. "It's your pussy, isn't it, baby?" she keeps asking as you keep panting, getting closer and closer to cum at each thrust inside Rosé's tight fuckhole.

"HMMMMMMMM, AHHHHHHHH," Rosé suddenly screams as you give a spank to her ass. You're going to make it red, make it red, even though she's not a member of the group who sings that song. But her ass is so great and round you can't resist; it's just the perfect spot for your big hands to hit nonstop.

Rosé clings to the chair, trying to resist the fast poundings you give her. "FUCKKKKK, OH MY GODDDDDDD," she screams as soon as you add your hands inside her asshole, your cock and your fingers competing to see who fucks each hole faster. You then grab her little waist to get a better grip of the ausie fucktoy's body. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," you groan as Rosé's walls get tighter and tighter the more you pound her pussy. "KEEP GOING, THAT'S SO GOOD, AHHHHHH, SHITTTTT," she screams again.

"Oh baby, thanks for giving me that pussy," you tell her. Rosé just fingers her pussy, getting her walls tighter and tighter and preparing to milk you dry. "How good does my pussy feel, baby? The best pussy you ever fucking had?" Rosé says. "Yes, you're so fucking hot and tight, my favorite pussy in the whole world," you answer back.

"If I'm your favorite pussy, then show me and fill it full of your cum," Rosé says as you give her butt another spank. These words make you go feal. You tease Rosé as you rub your shaft between her asscheeks. "That's hot, baby, getting that cock ready to cum as hard as possible," she says. "I loved rubbing it against your red, spanked, slutty Aussie ass," you reply.

You give Rosé's ass a little more claps before lifting her right leg and diving under her to eat both her holes. "I want that pussy to be super tight; grip my cock until my balls are completely drained," you say to her. "Ohhh, yes, baby, that tongue is getting it tigther than ever; eat my pussy good and I'll make that cock cum like it never did," Rosé says.

Rosé chimes in and massages your balls while standing in one leg. "I can feel the cum building up for me; it wants to breed my pussy so bad," she says. "Eat my pussy like that; get it tighter," she demands from you.

"Are you ready for it?" you ask Rosé, indirectly making a reference to one of her friends. "I'm always ready; give it to me," she says.

You search for Rosé's entrance to put your cock in her pussy for one final time. You two have fucked for a little under 30 minutes, but it's been so hot it feels like you've been going on for 3 hours. Her pussy is so tight you struggle to even hit the hole this time. "Oh my God, it's so tight," you say.

"Ahhhhh, shit," Rosé let out a big moan as you finally manage to get inside her. "I'm ready for it; how bad do you want to cum on this tight little pussy?" she asks. "Wanna fucking pump me until you cum inside it?" she keeps saying, building up the heat.

"Cum inside that tight little pink pussy," Rosé says in a sexy whispering voice. The more she talks, the more you get turned on. "Give me all that hot sticky load inside it, please; I love it; I want it; fill me up, please," she continues to whisper.

"Fuck fill up that pussy, fucking cum inside me right now; I want it so bad; get me pregnant now. Breed me," Rosé begs with more whispers, feeling your cock pulsating in her tight hole as you start groaning. It doesn't take long for you to pump that hot, sticky load deep into her womb. She can't believe how much cum you managed to put inside that pink pussy. "Oh my God, that was amazing," she said. "It's been a long time since someone came inside me this hard," she said.

"That was a great morning fuck session; guess I need to go now; I'm very late to work," you say. "That's too bad; I'll miss you, and especially miss your throbbing cock pumping that big load in my pussy; who knows when I'm going to get it again," Rosé says, kissing you as you put your clothes back on and drive yourself back into the insane LA traffic.

The next day is really boring. After a morning of Roses, the afternoon is just more and more stressful work, leaving you extremely tired once you arrive at home. You sleep as soon as you get home, only waking up the next day with your phone's alarm clock. You take your regular morning shower and prepare your breakfast until another message from Rosé comes out.

"Come see me again; I got three more pussies for you to breed," she texts you, with this picture attached to it.

Damn, Rosé is really amazing. You know the moment she leaves LA, you'll be counting the days for her return.

#rosé smut #blackpink smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 1 year

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playing house | single parent au: mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader

❛ pairing | mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader; single parents au

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | gabi's on a hunt to get a mami. miguel doesn't really need help with it. or, Miguel trades mechanic work for love.

❛ tags | explicit, mechanic!miguel, first grade teacher!reader, some mention of hurt, heavy themes of voyeurism (both ways), single parents, unhygienic sxconditions, Spanish not translated, very domestic fic, f!reader, protective miguel, very light mutual jealousy.

❛ request fulfilled | Miguel is a single dad, Reader is his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and he is both very obviously crushing on her and very reluctant to say it. Fortunately, his daughter isn't! "Did you know my papi likes you?" Cue flustered Miguel. + BROOOO mechanic!miguel is hot please tell

❛ sy's notes | flashback to that one time a car fell on my tio. 😅

The job was a simple part replacement. A fizzled-out chunk of metal that would cost any single mother more in labor and puff costs at any mechanic shop. But not with Miguel, who was known around the barrio for his begrudging care. He’d do any job Lyla brought to him for any madre around who needed him.

He wrung his hands out on his stained top and lifted his head out of the hood of an old but faithful car. After a click and a lock, he turned his eyes toward the dusty cover. Syncopated beats trill from a radio ring background static that he’s long since zoned out to focus on his work. He wiped his forehead and looked at the trampled grass underneath a cheap plastic pool.

“Gabriella, bring me the manguera,” he called out to his little girl, who looked at the hose in her little pool bobbing with poppy bright toys. The older she got, the worse her loneliness became. Not due to any ill-doing of Miguel who always tried his best to be present. For some reason, Miguel couldn’t bring himself to date in anything but short bursts.

“Papi, look across the street. New neighbors!” Gabriella cooed delightfully. She splashed out of the pool with the long emerald green hose in hand, bobbing over on her long skinny legs. “It’s a girl. A pretty girl! And she’s looking right at you!”

Like that was a new occurrence. Miguel turned his hand over his sun-bright daughter’s short, sodden braids that whipped just over her shoulder. She stood in place, bouncing delightfully over newcomers. There were many viejitos in the cul-de-sac, but not enough kids.

“¿Y qué, mi vida?” he asked her. His hand shipped free from her hair. “She’s probably taking in the barrio.”

“I think she is! You!”

He threw a glance over his shoulder only to find your prying eyes eating him up from across the street. You speak to a pair of movers-- but your eyes slipped away from theirs, where he stood with his little girl. The hose dumped water onto the street. Water that he’d usually be extra concerned about wasting. Today, he was more interested in a game.

His dirty white t-shirt is matted to his back, soaked in the sweat of the day. He gripped the bottom of his t-shirt on either side and tugged it over his head. It pulls on his well-corded arms, protesting its release from his body. Miguel slipped it over his shoulder and proceeded to release bits of sweat from his thick hair. An adorable gasp fell free from your lips, replaced by your hand over your lush lips, snapping back to attention.

“You’re right, Gabi.”

He took the sputtering hose from her and cracked a begrudging smile. Gabriella waved eagerly-- and to his surprise, you waved back. If it wasn’t the hot sun beating down your face, it was the embarrassment on your face. You settled the sunglasses on the cute crook of your nose. With that, Gabriella helps him wash the car until her most hated part, drying it with old towels and bits of Miguel’s ripped old shirts.

“Hola!”

“Coño,” Miguel cursed in surprise, turning around to face you. In your hand was a clear plastic bag stuffed full of the filled corn husks, warmth steamed its sides. Miguel glanced down at the bag in your comparatively soft hands, drawing his sweaty shirt over his cut muscles to wipe away the sweat that slicked his dusky skin.

“I brought you and your lindita tamales.”

“Tamales!” Gabriella cooed, her hands cradling a limonada. They made it together, like clockwork every Sunday. “I love tamales!”

“Don’t old neighbors bring new one’s food?” Miguel bit out, a bit annoyed. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate food, it would save him countless bright-ass early meals dragging himself out of bed to make Gabriella something with school right around the corner. He’s annoyed at that star-bright smile you have whipped across your face. It stirred excitement he thought he killed a long time ago. “Or are you just a show-off?”

“I teach first grade at the school across the street,” you ignored his snark and looked none the more bothered by it. There’s some magic in a woman that didn’t feed into his shit. You provided Miguel with a name that felt familiar to all the orientation packets he received just this week. “Ya tú sabes, umm, at Carillo’s.”

Of course.

“That’s where I go!” Gabriella beams. “I’m Gabriella O’Hara and I’m going to be in first grade, right papi? This is my papi. His name is Miguel.”

Damn it all. Miguel slaps his sweaty shirt on the top of the car. You kneel down, offering her up the tamales instead of Miguel. He blinks through his sudden irritation, realizing that he’s fucked now. Gabriella grabs the plastic bag, giggling delightfully over them.

“Then maybe you’ll be in my class, Miss O’Hara.”

When he checks her orientation paperwork-- there it is. He suddenly felt the pressure of the ordeal, of the pretty next-door neighbor who wore flowy dresses and apparently, loved muscles. His eye darted out to the window, the movers zipping off in a whir of color, leaving you just there, spinning around in the driveway of your new home, nearly too sun-bright.

Maybe it’s tied to being a father, but Miguel notices little things you do. Some are ineffectual. Others are dangerous. You leave your bedroom window wide open as you change. Miguel sat outside on Gabriella’s swing on his second cup of coffee for the day when he noticed it for the first time.

You come in from your shower and scurry about your room nearly naked. Then, cupping your breasts between your hands, you whirled around for a set of underwear. From this far, he can’t quite make out the color. It might be red. Not a poppy red, but a deep, soothing red he recognizes from his dead wife’s wardrobe.

He wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t just change in the bathroom, but in any case, it was… dangerous. Any freak walking by could see you changing. Mimi’s room had very well-used blinds and yours did not. He turns his attention back to the newspaper on his lap. Nueva York stalker confesses to stabbing murder in five-year-old cold case. He scrunched his nose at the news and drank a coffee that had long since gone cold.

Sometime later, your front door swung open. Mimi busted through, a little girl with long black twists and black eyes that held a similar excitement for the weekend. It was her papi time. Gabriella doesn’t have that luxury, two homes full of warmth. Just one, with a papi who loved her more than life itself. Miguel hopes it’s enough. He left his newspaper on the bench as you settled her in the car, making his jog across the street.

“You should buy blinds,” Miguel said the second you shut the door. You jumped, your hand on the locket on your chest.

“Ay dios, it’s just you. You shouldn’t walk up on a woman like that, Miguel,” you laughed. “Especially not a single mother.”

“You’re painfully oblivious. Buy some blinds for your room. It isn’t safe.”

Dry as his tone was, it was laced with concern. If there was no one in your life to tell you what he thought was obvious, he would. “You saw me? How much did you... see?”

He responds with a dull stare, his gaze falling to the red strap of your bra that set slightly off-kilter along your slight shoulders. You sucked in a breath to calm yourself, your heart beating at a rapid pace behind your modest shirt. You reached up to hide the strap. A frown marred his contrite features.

“You look beautiful in red,” he found himself muttering, pushing off of the back of the car without another word. He beat himself up for that-- stupid, stupid response. Because of course you know you look gorgeous. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

“Gracias, papi,” you called after him.

He hoped he was not flung into the creep category after that winning display.

You bought blinds for your window and a swing for Mimi’s new, sturdy tree. Its long arms offer some reprieve from the heat, casting a shadow on the small house. It wasn't long before you spent days on heaps of homework from the kids and a glitter-bright pen to grade spelling tests.

It's nice to have a little bit of company as he works on cars and yard work, even if you watch him like a voyeur, blushing if he notices, gasping if he plays into this new little game. At some point, he voided his shirts altogether. It’s not long before Gabriella has a game of her own to play.

“Psst, Lyla. Vente, Lyla.”

Gabriella sits boredly in the shop after school. Sometimes in his office, other times in the shop during breaks. One of his technicians, Lyla, sat on an upside-down bucket by Miguel’s side as he worked on a car. This time, it was a stupid simple fix. The idiot ripped off their bumper parking too far on a curb. Lyla sat in gold coveralls, undoubtedly grinning behind that black mask slapped across her face. He didn’t need to look away from the clips he was applying to know they were both up to shit.

“Yeah?”

“Papi has a crush on my teacher. I think she could be my new mami. If--”

“Miguel has a crush?” His other tech, Peter chirped up with a hunk of sandwich in his fingertips. How was he always slacking off and eating? Miguel didn't know, but he was. “I can't believe it. He hasn’t had a crush since Tem--”

“I don’t have a crush,” Miguel responded. “Less scheming, more homework, kid. She told me you’re behind on schoolwork.”

She does so well on spelling tests, Miguel, you told him at parent-teacher conferences. But she never turns in homework.

Gabriella was not behind because she was stupid. She was behind because she was a stubborn little child who, Miguel knew, was trying to set him up. Lyla abandoned the bucket to walk over near Gabriella’s unicorn table, pulling out a microsized table and looking down at the stupid simple homework. Single-digit numbers were a painful waste of time to a kid who loved math.

“She’s single?”

“Yup,” Gabi chirped, scratching away at her coloring page with a fat purple crayon. “Mimi told me.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend. I double-checked. And get this, she said she would come help me with homework.”

“Lyla.” Miguel shoved the opposite end of the bumper in place, securing it carefully. Lyla was bent down by Gabriella. So Papi has more time to see her! Gabriella whispered. He may not know what you’re saying, but he knows it’s bad by the way she looks at him. As though she were a cat might with a glass it was about to shatter on the floor. “You can go home now.”

His daughter doesn’t need any more of her devilish attributes.

“You fucked it alright, mujer. What did you hit?”

Miguel twisted a bit of the sidewall between his fingers to gauge the depth of the hole. Never mind that the back passenger wheel whistled away until it ran flat. It wasn’t the first time someone brought him a car that was fucked. It was the first time you had.

You never asked him for anything, not at the price of your pride. You simply… made it work. Just like Miguel made childcare work by leaving his shop to pick Gabriella up and leaving her bored as fuck every weekday until he could close up shop.

Today, Mimi and Gabriella were inside, playing with dolls after a warm dinner of arroz blanco and fatty pork chops. He wasn’t much a fan of your sickly sweet platano, but he tried it tonight after Gabriella hounded him. Don’t be rude, papi! He’s gotten used to coming home on Wednesday to dinner. It’s something that he realizes he’s missed: having someone to come home to.

“A pothole,” you murmured shyly. His forehead rippled into wrinkles, holding the chunk of broken-off rubber between his fingertips. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his dark eyes, minding the nervous twiddling of your fingers.

“A pothole,” he repeated after you. No matter how many times he considered it, it did not fit. His body was ripe with aggravated energy. He’s too tired for this. The shit he’d seen in his shop and you expected him to believe that you hit-- a pothole? “Qué mierda.”

Miguel set his hands on his hip, rolled on his heel, and stepped back to inspect his future work. His body thrummed, a tightness pulling with the sight of your shy smile. The truth tittered on your luscious little lips.

“I may or may not have hit those rocks by Doña Díaz’s casita.” One look around the street revealed the chunky, pointy rocks you referenced. Miguel flicked the bit of rubber onto the top of the car and looked at you. You were guilty as the day was long. “They weren’t that far off the curb before! I know that it’s bad. Do you think you could-- fix it?”

“You’re going to have to replace those two,” Miguel gestured. “What, did you not see the massive rocks on the side of the road? What were you doing? Eres una mama, you have to pay attention, por dios. You could have been hurt.”

Your eyes darted to the wheels. The nervousness was strong, nearly all-consuming, bidding you to shut up. Though it was a good question, the shame that flecked your eyes was enough to cause Miguel to move on. He knew you were likely inattentive, your mind hovering somewhere else than the quiet cul-de-sac.

“I… had a bad date, Miguel. I was upset and dizzy and… Don’t tell anyone, please.”

The pain of being a woman. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his large hand warm on your slight shoulder. A pulse of warmth rushed through his hand as you leaned in, your cheek plastered to his stained top. He smelled of oil and sweat, but somehow, you find it comforting. Your hands come over his back, tugging on the dark coveralls.

“It’s alright,” Miguel sighed. He'd tell you not to pick shit men-- but sometimes, as he knew, that didn't matter at all. “I’ll have it fixed.”

“I don’t have that much money, Miguel,” you began. “I have to take care of the kids, my house, Mimi. I…”

“No te preocupes. You can do something else for me.”

You drew in a small, choked breath. The type that settled in your chest and did not leave. Not until Miguel’s arms wound over your waist to soothe you through the pain and pressed a kiss that lasted entirely too long to the top of your head. It’s the first time he wants another.

“She is dating,” Peter said. “You know what that means? It means you’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one!”

"I'm not concerned about it."

The one, Miguel shook his head as he paced past the car he was propping up. He never heard anything more ludicrous. There was no such thing as the one. There was only a range of possibilities to pick from. At any point, life can happen. Then your one is gone-- and you’re left with only the memories and a body to bury. Still, as he clambered underneath the car, he found that he quite didn’t like the thought of you out with anyone else... especially not men who may or may not spike your drink.

“You should ask her to a date. Like, more than playing house with sticky kids and lasagna.”

“She’s never made me lasagna.”

Peter sloppily suckled on his fingers, the juice running down his thin wrists. “Then what was lunch?”

“Pastelón,” he answers bitterly. “It’s… plantain lasagna.”

“Okay, I thought you didn’t like--”

“I don't-- I eat it because she spends time on it.”

Peter sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He’s about to say something terribly unuseful, something like how Miguel has it bad. Miguel knows he does, half-formed images of what a family could be every day he went to pick Gabriella up, homework done, and happily fed. A feat in itself.

In place of that, though, were the car’s melded, mechanical squeals. He has but a moment and a half-formed plan that goes up in smoke the next second that it falls on his arm. He hears Peter’s half-formed, panicked shout to Lyla and recalls the flurry of steps and medical attention sometime later.

Admittedly, he did tell you to be careful.

When he wakes up, so does everyone else. Lyla chastizes him with her hands balled up on her hips, Peter sobs almost twice as much as Gabriella does until the two are dead asleep against his bed. Miguel’s eyes have rolled way too far.

“Is he finally asleep?” you peep into his heavy hospital door with a ginger knock of your knuckles. Miguel throws a look at Peter’s squishy face, half slumped over.

“Hermosa, I thought he’d never stop,” he grumbled.

“You scared him.”

Tch. Miguel watched you pick up Gabriella, settling her on the stiff pull-out bed. He foggily asked you what time it was, close to the end of visiting hours. He’d need to arrange something for Gabi with Lyla taking care of the shop. It itched at his throat.

“Gabi too. Should I…”

“Take her home for me,” he grumbled. “I’ll be back tomorrow. It’s just a broken arm.”

“You coughed up blood, Miggy. You could have died if Peter wasn’t there.”

Miggy. You finally used the nickname somewhere between Wednesday dinner dates and a car slumping on him. Miguel throws a growl to the side, using his non-fucked hand to pet the top of Peter’s head. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you were right.

“What happens if… something happens to you?”

“With Gabi?” he asks.

"Sí. With everything."

You nod, looking idly at his little daughter, still in her school clothes. You brought her as soon as school was over, soothed the panic in her voice, the thought of becoming an orphan just because the car had cracked his arm. She wouldn’t have remembered her mother’s death, it was far too long ago now.

“Lyla. Why the face? If you’re jealous, know that was the agreement with my wife before she was murdered.”

You hadn’t known you were making a face, but you were to the trained eye. Some small pout of your lip, tears welling at the corner of your eyes. Miguel shoves himself up on the bed, straining sore muscles. It was going to be a long night. A longer month or two until he was up and running again.

“I’m not making a face. It's just... You were reckless when you're usually so careful. I'm wondering why. I'm sorry.”

"It's fine," Miguel urged you to come closer. "Come here."

You slid into his chair, tentatively sneaking your hand on top of his. Miguel wanted to tell you more. There was not another friend nearly so close, one that would take care of everything and anything he needed. He's suddenly aware of his situation. It would be difficult to make a woman secure that he'd not tied down yet. You clearly care-- based on the insecurity in your eyes.

You’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one.

He doesn't want to miss his shot. He brought your hand to his lips, straining with a pained little grunt. You stood up to help him, allowing his lips to flutter over the back of your hand in a small kiss at his urging.

“Trust me. She’s not a threat,” he said. “You’ll take Gabi with you?”

“Of course, Miggy. Anything you need.”

Securing a relationship would just have to wait.

The first day back, Miguel sent Gabriella off with Lyla. Mimi is off with her papa, leaving you with nothing but time. He finally saw his projects through without Peter loitering over his shoulder, revitalizing cars with bad radiators and fizzled-out air compressors. As if Peter was the boss and he were the employee. The grease under his fingers feels more like Miguel than any squeaky clean shower you’ve helped him take. Yes, you’ve helped him take. He could have asked Lyla or Peter, but why over-extend their lives when you lived in his home for the past month to take care of Gabriella anyway?

He wonders what you thought, stripping him down to nothing, seeing his naked thighs, watching him clean sensitive bits that, as you lied, you were not looking at. He finds it cute, the way you tried to look away, but of course-- you always snuck a look. You’re nosy by nature. He’s never been ashamed of his body, though. For all the work you did, he thinks you deserve a look.

“Miggy,” you slipped through the side door, your heels clicking over a greased-up floor. He hopes you don’t fall, arms deep in the hood of a shiny dark blue convertible. It’s nearly perfect. “I got your message. You said we need to talk?”

“Don’t slip.”

Miguel whirled a wrench into its place, slammed the hood shut, and rubbed the grease on his hands together. Like it will come off his callouses. Miguel meets you half way, offering you his greased up hand. You look down at his hand, then up to Miguel again. He half thinks you won’t take it, but you do, allowing him to whirl you in a spin before lifting you on top od the hood of the car.

“Ay Miggy--” you cursed, looking down at the car. It shone bright, its smooth metal cold under your bare thighs. He pins you in place as you attempt to wiggle off, nearly jiggling your way onto his lap. “The owner will be mad--”

“It’s mine and I’m not.” He explains. “I know what I want.”

“You want…?”

“For the work on your car.” It’s cute how clueless you act, holding your breath as his fingers course past your bare thighs. You barely manage to choke the words out, your hands inching on his. He replaces himself between your thighs. You both know that you more than made up for the few hundred dollars in repairs with the work you’d done for him in a month. Holding your breath, you nod.

“Tell me.”

“I want a night with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, leaning your trembling fingers up to the bits of dark brown hair that accentuated the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes. You met his eyes, trained on your own, challenging you to respond. Words formed in a mishmash of nonsense on your tongue. You take the chance to press your lips on his, your hand suddenly cradling the side of his face for some stability. You were hardly comfortable on his car, but Miguel didn’t seem to care, biding your lower lip to open and let him in. You relinquish, savoring the distant taste of roasted coffee on his tongue, his fingers teasing along your thighs.

“That’s not an answer,” Miguel pulled back from your lips for an instant. He graces your neck with soft kisses, leaving the occasional bite and tug just in case-- he doesn’t need another man thinking he has so much as a chance. Your big man pins you down onto the car like you were weightless, any willingness to inch away tempered by his mass.

“Depends,” you answered. “I want this to be an every night kind of thing.”

“Consider it a trade.” He chuckled against your neck, the heat from his lips traveled across the valley of your breasts. You complied with his desire and let him slip your breasts free from your romper. His mouth closed his mouth over your nipple. His greasy hands melded your breasts between his desperate hands, tongue prodding your nipple fat. Your legs met his hungry performance by pulling him forward, his scratchy belt against your clothed cunt.

“Careful,” he teased. His hand fell to his bulge, unbuttoning his stained pants. You watched him pull himself free, pulling panties and romper alike to the side of your lips. Your lips parted, much like that very first day you met him, sundered by the sight of his cock. This time, fully hard. He doesn’t enter your cunt-- no, he’s patient, slotting himself between your folds for a teasing grind. His dick twitched in response, eager to finally fuck you. “You’ll fall off.”

“It’s your fault. You could have asked over dinner.” He greets your complaint with a nod, flicking your other breast. He envelops the other nipple between his mouth, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. You take a long breath, hips leaning up against his firm length.

“Like that would be anything new. We always have dinner,” Miguel murmured in protest. “A far better use of our time is soaking your pretty cunt with my cum on this car before dinner.”

He felt your cunt clench at nothing. His hips, thrusting against your mound, nudged over your wet little folds, knocked against your greedy clit. Before you could respond, Miguel popped off your nipple again, “You like that thought? Going to dinner leaking?”

“Miggy, por dios,” you complained. “Stop dry humping and give it to me.”

He huffed darkly, snatching one of your thighs and leaning back. He spreads your lips, inspecting his work. You were wet, but not just wet, soaking his car. Miguel brought his other palm to wipe your wetness away, jerking himself with the fluid. He tests your reaction by nudging the head of his cock against your unprepared hole.

“Miguel,” you bit out, this time a warning.

“Ya te oigo,” Miguel loomed over you, pinning your shoulder back to his glistening car. You don’t debate him on that, allowing him to say whatever he wants if it would just get him inside. Miguel relinquishes control, pushing inside of your tightness. He bit back a groan, pushing past your body’s resistance, throbbing against your core. Your hands fisted his dirty shirt, cunt split wide on his cock, and glad for it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands securing themselves on your hips. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls nearly free, slamming forth just a moment later. Breath punched out of your throat, his cock rocking your cunt nice and full. You loved this-- looking beautiful and full just for him. He knew it too, “Hermosa.”

Miguel held his arm tight around your thigh, holding you flush against his rutting hips. His balls slapped your ass, pulling tight. You were distantly aware of his thumb at your clit, leaning your hips into his thrusts the best you could. You could only squirm to keep yourself upright on his car despite feeling your body sliding into his. His thumb worked in insistent, tight circles, forcing the pleasure to burrow in your low belly, tightening over him. It’s no marker of your performance, you think, hoping he’d give you another chance to be anything but a toy on his cock.

“No, no puedo--” you whined, your hands dipping under his shirt to scratch at his finely cut muscles, knowing you were about to gush.

“Do it,” Miguel grunts in response, his thumb more insistent. You’re not entirely proud of the way you came, creaming his cock desperately. He held strong, smothering his own groans if only for the pleasure of hearing your passionate cries. You come to moments after, Miguel’s thrusts now intent on his own pleasure.

“Come on, papi,” you worshipped. “Cum in me.”

“Fuck,” Miguel complied, his dirty nails causing sharp indentions on your thigh and hip. His sticky cum fills you in a few deep thrusts, each more forceful than the last, and he’s spent. If he was dirty before, he was filthy now. Miguel catches your lips in a lingering kiss, going soft in your body. He knew the second he pulled out your cum was soaking his now-dented car.

His eyes peeled open to find your gaze on him, tracing fresh superficial scratches on his belly. Of course, you are-- you’re a hungry addict. Miguel pulled himself free and looked for a cloth that wasn’t grease soaked to clean your cunt with. You piece yourself together and slide off his car.

“Let’s go.”

“¿Qué?” he zips himself back into his pants.

“You promised me dinner.”

He sighs-- just as long as it wasn’t lasagna.

There’s something attractive about your love of children.

He thinks it’s likely because he’s never had that himself. His mother was a beast of a woman. Never affectionate. At least, not with him. After his wife’s subsequent death, life proceeded in a vacuum. The years passed: first one. Then six. Then he was here, holding a bundle of jewel-bright roses against an uncharacteristically clean button-up, walking down the dull blue carpet of the beige hallway to the pod that usually held the kids. For all the days you tolerated him smeared and slathered, you deserved a good display.

They were usually alight with noise, rambling on about their latest toy or prattling on about a mommy that Gabriella just did not have. The more she grew, the more important it became to have that for her-- maybe it was more for himself. Today, that hall was dead of life.

“Gabi, I hear your papi,” you called from somewhere inside. He hears her subsequent pitter-patter of feet across the carpet, popping out with Mimi from the door before he can open it. Miguel cocked his head, a sigh working on his lips. They whirled the door shut. Gabi bolted to your would-be desk and slapped her tanned palms on the tabletop.

“Maestra, maestra!”

Ah, damn it all. Miguel’s hand hovers around the knob, chewing on the next thought. He couldn’t really blame the kid for what she was about to say, because he knew exactly what she was about to do.

“¿Mande?”

“I have something to tell you, it’s really important. Papi likes you, did you know my papi really, really likes you?”

There’s a pause. Then a slight, amused giggle from Mimi. It’s short-lived as he pulls open the door, loathing this dumb thing called Teacher’s Week that leaves him with a bundle of flowers and instant regret.

“Sí, Gabriella. I know he does. I like him too. He’s so cute.”

If he weren’t so dark, he’d worry about the flush in his face with the embarrassment of being outed by his little girl. He stares at your hands on Gabriella’s, then at the small sea of desks and colorful name tags to break some of the tension, hardening his face to shield it from the embarrassment. Was he really so obvious?

“Hola Miggy.”

You scoot out of your chair.

“Hola,” he sighs, remembering he was holding flowers. He slides them into your hands, hooking his hands on his slender hips. “This is… Gabi wanted to give you flowers.”

“I never said that,” she chirped, bouncing his way. “You said--”

“Gabriella.” Miguel hisses, his tone sharp at her interjection. She goes dead silent by Mimi's side, staring up at him with watery eyes. He jerks his head in the direction of the quartet of desks she sits at. “Go get your things.”

“I think Papi is embarrassed,” you whisper, crouching down to rub her little back, soothing down her milky white top. “I’ll talk to him and make it better, okay? Go with Mimi.”

“Okay.”

Mimi bounded off behind Gabi, stuffing her bag with her colorful work and chunky crayons. Miguel exhaled air, staring at her powdery blue backpack for something other than the complete and utter embarrassment that yet someone else had called him out. If it wasn't Peter, it was his daughter.

Had he been this obvious the whole time?

“Don’t be too hard on her tonight,” He peered down at you, small in the grand scheme of his height and musculature. You pecked a small kiss on his lips, stroking his week-old stubble, just enough to cool Miguel’s teetering nerves. “It’ll be better when she finds out.”

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Text

THE WRATH OF FIRE

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 8

The rumors surrounding Rhaenyra’s children only got worse when her third child had been born.

Ysilla was now a girl of fifteen. She was very different from the skinny little child that had left Runestone so long ago. People would describe her as elegant, intelligent, and beautiful. She had grown to be graceful, as much as her dragon was. And as Dārysyr, her fierce was known by now. Her dragon had grown large and powerful; his muscles were well-formed, and his wings were strong. Ysilla went flying on Dragonback once a week. She would have liked to do it more, but she had her studies and her duties.

Just a couple of years before, Ysilla had the chance to speak with the Alchemists of King’s Landing, and she had been left very fascinated.

“Vysenia was said to be familiar with dark magic,” she said one day, sitting beneath the Hearth Tree as she observed Aemond practicing combat movements with a stick.

“You want to be Vysenia born again?” He asked, fighting against air.

“Do you think I’d made a fool of myself?” She asked with a little smile as she looked at the boy.

“No,” he answered, turning to her, “I think you are as willed as her. But with the grace of Rhaenys.”

Graceful. Yes. Ysilla had grown up to be very grateful. She knew how to bow, to speak, and to dance. The court was well impressed by her. And from Runestone, her aunt Jeyne was hoping for a good arranging for Ysilla. Not only because she had become very well respected by the people in King’s Landing but also because Queen Alicent seemed to have high expectations from Ysilla. She called her her ward.

“She probably wishes for you to be wed to one of her sons,” that rumor had reached her aunt Jeyne as well. And she seemed pleased by it in her letters. A Royce on the throne.

Ysilla, on the contrary, had no thirst for power. The thought of ambitions and schemes only reminded her of her father and what he had done to be always a step closer to the Iron Throne. But she was not her father.

The lack of personal ambition, though, did not make her blind to politics and schemes. It was because she knew how harmful they could be that she was always vigilant and observant of what happened in court. Fully aware that knowledge and duty were what was required to keep alliances and peace. She had grown up side by side with the Queen, raised by the same people that raised the princes. She knew that the health of the King was faltered, as did the respect some people had for the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her children started to grow up to become more similar to the Captain of the Guards than her own husband. Everybody knew, and yet the King did nothing. This had also happened ten years before when her father had killed her mother.

“Are you not coming to the pits?” Aegon asked that morning when they were breaking their fast.

“You heard that right,” she answered, smiling at him before taking a sip of her milk.

“You cannot ditch me like this,” he said, leaning towards her with playful eyes, “I’ve promised you today would have been fun.”

Aegon had grown up, but his search for fun and enjoyment had remained the same. “Helaena wished to dance today. You know how I love her and how I enjoy dancing.”

He cocked his head to a side, “More than riding Dārysyr?” Then his hands moved to touch a strain of her hair, “Did I say how I like your hair today?” Ysilla took his hand to push it away. Aegon had always had a fascination with her hair, and since he had started to grow and notice women, he had begun to voice his compliments on her hair and appearance more often than not.

“I love nothing more than Dārysyr,” she answered, looking at the boy. "And we already flew with him and Sunfyre last week.”

Not so long before, Aegon managed to bend Sunfyre, becoming his dragonrider. Sunfyre was known to be the most beautiful dragon alive, and he really was. He had golden scales and pink shades, and even his flames were golden.

“I wasn’t meant to go fly together,” he said, a mischief light in his eyes.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, making him laugh.

“What face?”

“The one that always brings you trouble,” she answered with a glare. He was planning something. She knew him too well to be mistaken. She didn’t have time to ask because the wooden door opened to let Aemond enter the chamber.

“Good morrow, Aemond,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Ysilla, brother,” he answered shortly. It was how Aemond was, very different from his older brother. He was composed and dutiful. Less impulsive than Aegon was. “Mother is looking for you, Ysilla.” He said, sitting down.

“That’s why you’re not coming. Because of Mother,” Aegon said, making Ysilla turn to him.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, standing up. Her eyes went from one brother to the other. "I’ll see you both when you return from the pit,” then she looked at Aegon.

“Behave.” He blown her a kiss.

“Like always, my sweet.”

“Stop that,” Aemond said, focusing his attention on the plate in front of him. Ysilla ignored Aegon, making her way towards the door. She wondered why the Queen wanted to see her. Ysilla knew she would have been busy with Rhaenyra after the princess’s labor ended and the third of her children would be born. Rhaenyra had been screaming for hours, and Ysilla stopped to observe the corridor that led to her chambers on her way to the Queen. By the screams, she seemed to be suffering very much. That made her anxious. She knew that it was a woman’s duty to give children to her husband. She just hoped the gods had mercy for them and an easy way to bring life to the world.

“Princess,” Ser Cole was guarding the door, bowing his head as she walked closer.

“Good morrow, Ser,” she answered politely. “I hope your day has been good so far.”

The man smiled, “It is, Princess.” His smile would have made her blush just a few years before. But the more she grew up, the less embarrassing it became to share words with men, even handsome men such as Ser Criston.

When Ysilla entered the chamber, the Queen was standing next to the window, and a serving girl was fixing the back of her dress.

“My Queen,” she greeted, bowing. “Have you asked for me?”

“Good morrow, my dear,” Alicent Hightower smiled kindly at her, “Indeed. Helaena is a little... agitated today."

Helaena had stayed the same in those years. She was still the sweetest girl that Ysilla had ever met. Sweet and gentle. But her queer behavior sometimes agitated even herself. Ysilla had seen Helaena in those moments, and she knew that the princess didn't like to be alone when she was feeling like that.

"We'll find something else to do then," Ysilla answered. They could have taken a walk or talked about bugs. Helaena liked bugs. Ysilla would have found something to ease Helaena's mind.

The Queen smiled at her, putting a hand on her arm. "What a blessing you are." Ysilla returned the gesture, bowing her head in gratitude and respect.

At that moment, the door behind them opened to reveal Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ysilla widened her eyes to see her cousin.

"Rhaenyra," the Queen gasped, "You should be resting after your labors."

"I have no doubt that you would prefer that, Your Grace," Rhaenyra answered, trying to keep her trembling voice steady. The pain that she had experienced was well visible on her face, and it was not surprising.

Ysilla had heard Rhaenyra screaming only a few moments before. She knew what happened during labor, and the septa had explained that to her. How could her cousin possibly walk? Or even walking up the stairs?

"You must sit," the Queen said, turning to one of her serving girls, "Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” The girl bowed and turned to attend Rhaenyra.

“There’s no need,” Rhaenyra said. By the Queen insisted.

Ysilla followed Alicent as they walked towards the couple. Rhaenyra had finally accepted sitting down with Laenor's help, but seeing her in pain and holding her newborn baby, Ysilla felt like moving so that she could help her cousin sit. As the girl touched her arm, the Princess turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on her lips, probably still trying to hide her pain. It was well-known how stubborn Rhaenyra was.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s no need,” Ysilla answered, then exchanging a look with the Queen.

Alicent was observing the baby like she had done with Lucerys just a few years before. Ysilla knew what she was thinking: even this child had nothing of Ser Laenor in him.

As Ysilla went back to stand next to the Queen, King Viserys entered the chamber with a huge smile on his face. “What happy news this morning,” he exclaimed.

The years had not been gentle to the King. His body was weaker and more fragile. His skin had gotten paler and his hair thinner. The condition of his left hand had gotten worse. He first lost just three fingers, but it kept getting worse until the Maester decided that it was better to cut off the entire arm. Even so, Ysilla’s uncle tried to maintain a positive attitude, always smiling at everyone.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” said Ser Leanor, taking the child in his arms to present him to the King. Ysilla observed Rhaenyra’s husband’s face as he looked at the baby. He smiled happily and proudly. Could he really be so blind? He had never seemed such a man to Ysilla. It was true, though, that he was not very present as a father.

He is more present than mine, anyway. She thought as she observed the unbothered son of Corlys Velaryon pass the child to the King. But even in his expression, Ysilla could not see surprise or disappointment. She could not understand why both men acted so blindly about the behavior of the future Queen? Why did her actions have no repercussions? Everybody knew, everybody whispered. And yet the King did nothing.

He must truly love her, if he is protecting her like that. Ysilla thought, observing the happiness on Viserys’ face.

“A fine Prince,” he said, his eyes looking at every one of them. Ysilla smiled, lowering her eyes. “Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.”

Surely, Ysilla thought. If the rumors were true and his father was Ser Harwin Strong, he surely could have become a terrific fighter as an adult. Breakbone was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Does the babe have a name yet?” The Queen asked with curiosity.

Rhaenyra took a breath, “We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Ser Leanor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

Ysilla looked between them, hoping that her face did not give away the kind of thought she had in mind. Had they spoken of it or not? Did Rhaenyra agree with such a name?

“An unusual name for a Velaryon.” The Queen was speaking the truth. Velaryon came from Valyria as much as the Targaryens. Their names came from Old Valyria to keep the traditions. But it wasn’t only their costume: in the Seven Kingdoms, all the Noble Houses had names and family names. Ysilla’s name was a Royce name. Her mother, Lady Rhea, had done it on purpose. Ysilla’s father could be a Targaryen, but she had Royce’s blood in her veins as well.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose,” Ysilla would have frowned at the King’s words, but she had to keep her composure, so she decided to look at Rhaenyra and smile at her. The Princess did the same, but there was no truth behind that gesture. They were both aware of what was happening.

The King chuckled, still focused on Joffrey, and soon after, Laenor did the same before clearing his throat.

“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest,” Ser Laenor said, ready to help his wife get on her feet.

“Of course,” the King answered. The Queen was soon at his side, taking Joffrey in her hands. Ysilla moved aside when she saw the King walking closer to his daughter, but she didn’t walk very far, curious about what they would have talked about.

“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said with tenderness. Such a tone forced Ysilla to lower her eyes, fully aware that her father would never have such sweetness for her. If she’ll ever see him again. She knew that he was an Essos with his lady wife and their two twin daughters. She wondered how he was fathering them. If he was cold and cruel like he had been to her so long ago. Ten years had passed, and yet she remembered the way he had looked at her as he said that he felt nothing for his firstborn daughter.

“I do hope the labor was easy,” the King said as Ysilla walked towards the Queen, who was giving the baby back to Ser Leanor.

“Do keep trying, Ser Laenor. Sooner or later, you may get one that looks like you.” She had said it so politely, but her intentions were quite clear—she was voicing the thoughts of the entire court. The man looked startled, and when he noticed Ysilla standing there, she didn’t say anything. She only smiled, with no true intention behind it.

Rhaenyra then walked towards her husband before they both left the chamber. Ysilla bowed gracefully as they disappeared behind the heavy wooden door.

“What a happy day,” the King exclaimed full of happiness.

The Queen lowered her eyes from next to him. “Indeed, my love,” she answered.

The whole situation was against everything that politics and duty required. Ysilla could understand why her uncle was protecting his daughter, but her King was making a fool of himself. And whispers could only get louder and louder, not only against Rhaenyra but against the King as well. He was not only Rhaenyra’s father; he was the Protector of the Realm, of the peace of the Realm. How would the realm answer once the King had left that world? What was ahead of them? That uncertainty was heavy in her heart. Politics could be ruthless, and it could reclaim anyone’s life.

“You wanted to dance, I’m sorry,” Helaena was saying as they walked in the corridors of the Red Keep.

“Nonsense, Helaena,” she answered honestly. The events of that morning had left little room for light emotions in her heart. “I don’t feel like dancing today.”

“Running from the back is important,” her cousin said. Ysilla turned to observe her. It didn’t matter how many years they had known each other; Helaena’s strange sentences left Ysilla confused all the time. She knew better than to ask. Helaena didn’t know how to explain the meaning of her words, and the more people asked her to, the more she got agitated. That was one of those days. One where Ysilla stood quiet, listening to all the strange things her cousin felt to say. She loved Helaena, but on those days, the hours went on slowly.

I wish I was at the Dragonpit, she thought. Ysilla wished nothing more than to be with Dārysyr, especially during days that felt so heavy in her heart.

They were back in Helaena’s chamber when the Queen arrived. Ysilla was set next to her cousin, who was very interested in counting the rings of a centipede. They have been there long. And Ysilla decided to take one of the many books that she had in her chamber to keep herself occupied until Helaena was satisfied with her counting. When the Queen entered, Ysilla was ready to stand up and bow, but the woman gestured for her to sit still and keep with her reading.

“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each, ” Helaena whispered, looking closer at the centipede, “It makes two-hundred-twenty-four.”

“Yes, it is,” the Queen said in a soft tone, even if her expression could not hide her worry. It was difficult to communicate with Helaena when she acted like that. They had to be patient.

“It has eyes,” the girl spoke, looking closely at the creature in her hand.

“Does he?” Ysilla asked, keeping reading her book.

Helaena muttered in agreement, “Though, I don’t believe it can see.” Ysilla looked at her with a confused frown.

“And why is that so, do you think?” Asked the Queen.

“It is beyond our understanding.”

Beyond mine, for sure, Ysilla thought at her cousin’s words. Those were too much of abstract concepts for her mind. She liked history better.

“I suppose you’re right,” the Queen answered. Some things just are.” As she finished speaking, though, the door opened to reveal Aemond. Ysilla put aside her book. Her eyes widened, seeing how dirty his face and clothes were.

“Aemond,” the woman gasped, walking to her son, “What have you done?”

“He did it again.” Ysilla stood up after Helaena’s words. He must have entered the Dragonpit. That place was dangerous for someone without a dragon, and Aemond was the only one of them without one. Dragons bend only to one person, and when they did, they will only listen to their rider. They could become very dangerous for anyone else. But Aemond had always been very fascinated by dragons. The pain in his eyes was always visible when they went to the Dragonpit.

Ysilla could understand him. She had been fascinated, too, before Dārysyr’s egg hatched. Being a Targaryen without a dragon hurt a lot.

“After how many times you’ve been warned,” the Queen reproved him, “Must I have you confined to your chambers?”

“They made me do it!” Aemond argued angrily. Who made him do it? Ysilla moved forward, feeling for her cousin. He truly seemed so upset. What had happened? But the Queen didn’t seem to share Ysilla’s same thoughts.

“As if you needed encouragement,” the woman said, worryingly observing her son to be sure he was not harmed. "Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.” When she spoke like that, the Queen truly reminded Ysilla of her mother's skepticism about dragons.

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond exclaimed. Ysilla’s eyes widened.

“A what?” The Queen asked in confusion.

“They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig!” Aemond answered, trembling with anger.

I’ve promised you today would have been fun. Aegon had said to her that morning. He was behind it. Ysilla could not believe it. He knew how Aemond suffered since he was the only one without a dragon. Even Rhaenyra’s sons had one each, but not Aemond, a son of a King. How could he be so stupid to do that to his own brother?

“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent said trying to calm her son, “I know it.”

Aemond deserved a dragon. It was saddening to know that his egg hadn’t hatched. He had asked Ysilla many times how she did it as they grew up, but she truly wasn't sure how or why. Dārysyr was just born one day. It had been a very normal day. But Aemond’s didn’t, and it was not fair. Why did the Gods play such games?

Aemond lowered his gaze, “They all laughed.”

And why did the Gods make Aegon to be such an idiot?

_____________________________________________________________

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wholoveseggs · 6 months

Note

Part 1 was fab, thanks so much darling, so why not a part 2? Alright so months later Y/N (me) is on her spring break vacation and she somehow manages to convince Elijah and Klaus to take her on a yacht. Rebekah had bragged to Kol and his brothers also hinted at what happened previously with Y/N so then he says he wanted to join too. Kol and Y/N have fun skinny dipping in the ocean and when it lands on the island, it’s quite literally a fuckfest. So it’s 3 brothers x Y/N although I want to make this one a reader insert if that’s okay. {kinks: cock choking/gagging, tit fucking, overstimulation fucking, lots of degradation, little praise, ass play, squirting, double penetration, and messy/sloppy sex (idk if that’s a kink tbh)}.

Magnificent

Did I spend a long time on google trying to find an image of them together? yes

Did I give up? also yes... So instead... here are three pictures of them in the sun...

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Just a quick little ménage à quatre with Klaus, Elijah and Kol... on spring break...

♡♡ Thanks for the request darling Aurora... this was such an insane challenge and I loved every minute of it. I personally wouldn't survive this, but it was fun to write! ♡♡

8.8k words - Warnings: this is by far the wildest thing I've ever written, smut smut and more smut, my Elijah bias coming in hot... dom!Mikaelsons, blowjobs, oral sex, rim job (f!receiving), gagging, overstimulation, choking, squirting, anal, dp, beach sex, yacht sex.... it really is a fuckfest. So much cum, a ton of dirty talk, sir kink, daddy kink, lots of degradation and praise... probably missing something, but you get the gist.. it's extremely horny... so strap in and enjoy...

You stretched out on the sofa at the Mikaelson compound, phone in hand, browsing through social media. You let out a heavy sigh as you scrolled through your friend's photos on vacation, posted only a few hours ago. You were happy for them, really. You just wished you had fun things to do too. It was spring break and you had no plans, Rebekah was supposed to be here, the two of you planned to spend the week together. But she ditched you to go to Mystic Falls to go see some guy named Matt who didn't even seem very interesting.

Elijah walked in, lifting your legs so he could sit on the sofa. He set your legs down on his lap, and you continued to browse your phone, noticing another picture of a girl in a bikini, holding a margarita, in front of the ocean.

You let out a huff, closing the app, and dropping the phone on to your chest.

"What is the matter?" Elijah asked, placing a hand on your shin, caressing you gently.

"Everyone is having fun on their spring breaks, except me. I don't have any plans," you complained, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why don't we go on the yacht for a few days?" Elijah suggested, a smile forming on his lips.

"You have a yacht?" You asked, sitting up on the sofa, resting your back against the armrest.

"Of course we do darling," said Klaus, who just entered the room, standing behind the sofa, putting his hands on the backrest and looking down at you.

You gave him a wide smile and then glanced at Elijah, their proximity reminding you of a certain memory. Your cheeks flushed as you remembered the way they had both fucked you senseless. You bit your lower lip, as your eyes traveled from Elijah's eyes, down to his lips.

After your ménage with Rebekah and the boys you had come back for more from Elijah. The two of you had a series of secret rendezvous, whenever the rest of the family were away. Elijah had a way of making you feel so good, and when things got really heated he made you call him something special. Something only the two of you shared.

"Sunshine, endless sands, alcohol, good music, the sea... What more do you need?" Klaus said, smirking when he caught the look on your face, breaking you out of your dirty thoughts.

"That all sounds wonderful... What else is going to happen there?" You asked, as Elijah ran a finger up your shin, his hand traveling up to your bare thigh.

"Whatever you desire," Elijah said, giving you a knowing smirk.

"Can we bring Kol?" You asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

They both looked surprised and a little annoyed, it amused you to see their expressions.

"Why?" Klaus asked, his lips pursed, and brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Why not?" You shrugged. "We are just going to have fun. And besides... He's always being left out," you said, trying to be as neutral as possible, looking at both men as you said this, trying to read their reactions.

Elijah just looked at you, trying to hide the jealousy, but his face was giving everything away. Ever since you hooked up with them, you realized how much power you held over them. They would literally do anything you asked. Of course you would never take advantage of that power... At least not very much... You just wanted to be able to have a little bit of fun and spice things up with the three men, and it wasn't going to work without Kol.

"Kol can be... Insatiable," Elijah warned, giving you a knowing look.

"Kol behaves like a horny teenager, love. Don't you want this to be a classy affair?" Klaus added, his gaze moving over your body.

"Please?" You asked, looking at them with wide, innocent eyes, a teasing smile on your lips.

"Very well, if you wish for Kol to come, he can come. Just try to keep him under control," Elijah said, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

Klaus groaned and bowed his head in defeat, running his fingers through his hair.

You beamed, hopping on Elijah's lap, straddling his hips. "So when can we leave?" you asked, your eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Elijah grabbed your ass with both hands, kneading your cheeks, "we can go tonight."

You cupped his face, "oh I can't wait! It's going to be so much fun," you exclaimed, pressing a quick peck to Elijah's lips and then jumping off his lap and heading to pack, getting ready for your little adventure with your three favorite guys.

The yacht was extravagant to say the least, meticulously decorated and very well kept. You were in your private quarters, unpacking your various bikinis, deciding on what to wear to go sunbathe. You felt two hands grab you from behind and turned your head, seeing Kol smirking at you.

"I don't know how you did it but thank you," he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it.

You leaned against him, humming, closing your eyes. He squeezed your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, taking a look at the bikinis that you had sprawled on the bed.

"Oh, this one's nice," he said, grabbing one of the pieces of cloth, "but I'd like it better on my floor," he chuckled.

You chuckled too, "why am I not surprised?" you said, grabbing it from him.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and let you go. He laid down on the bed, stretching like a lazy cat. You decided on one of your new bikinis and headed to the bathroom to change into it.

Kol sat up and watched you walk away, "why aren't you changing in here? There's plenty of space," he said, scooting back on the bed, making room for you.

"What gave you the impression I would do that?" you teased.

Kol gave you an offended look, placing a hand on his heart. You shook your head and closed the door, getting changed quickly, and returning to your room. You sat on the bed next to him and pulled out your tanning lotion from your suitcase, taking the time to lather your arms and legs in it. Kol's eyes followed your movements, watching your fingers trail along your skin. You glanced at him and smiled when you saw him lick his lips as you put more lotion on your hand and applied it on your chest.

He reached over and took the lotion from your hands and gestured for you to get on his lap. You turned and sat sideways, your legs dangling off the bed. He massaged your shoulders, then moved to your arms and your back. You let your head fall back against his shoulder as his hands traveled along your body.

"I heard this rumor," he whispered, his breath warm on your ear, "about you having a bit of fun with my siblings," he said, as he slipped his hand under the hem of your bikini bottom and squeezed your butt cheek, "and me being left out," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You turned to face him, "who told you that?"

He gave you a smug smile, "let's just say, someone has been doing a little bit of gossiping about what happens in the compound."

Your eyes widened when you realized what he meant, "Rebekah!" You gasped. "Well... Now she's the one who's being left out," you giggled.

Kol hummed in approval, his lips forming into a lopsided smile, his eyes wandering your face and neck, lingering on your chest. His gaze traveled to your cleavage, as you pressed your boobs together.

"So what you are saying is that it's true? Rebekah, Klaus and Elijah. How was that?" He asked, looking at your eyes again.

You blushed and averted your gaze, "good," you whispered, feeling his cock twitch underneath you. You laughed softly and swatted his arm, "why does that excite you so much?" You teased.

"Don't judge me, darling. You are just so damn beautiful, I thought you were all innocent and shy. I'm dying to hear you describe what they did to you... Tell me about it."

You smiled mischievously, moving to straddle his hips, "well... Rebekah and I touched each other while the guys were watching us..."

"God, that's so hot," he breathed out, running his hands up and down your thighs.

"Then they all took turns fucking me," you whispered, kissing along his jaw.

Kol's grip on your thigh tightened, "fuck, I would've loved to see that."

"I've been thinking about it ever since," you confessed, your eyes dark with lust, "and I'm not sure I had enough," you whispered, nipping at his earlobe, tugging at it.

"Do you think Klaus and Elijah would want to share you with me, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice deep and husky.

You bit your lower lip, grinding your ass on his cock, making him moan. "It's not up to them," you said, kissing him softly, "I decide who gets to fuck me," you murmured against his lips, grabbing his hands and moving them on your breasts, making him squeeze them, "and right now, I'd like it to be you," you purred.

You looked into his eyes, his hunger for you was palpable. You kissed down his chest, scooting back until your knees touched the floor. You pulled his swim trunks down. His erect cock sprung free. You stroked him slowly, watching the precum spilling out of his tip.

You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, placing your lips on the head of his cock, licking his slit. His fingers threaded through your hair as you took him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head, taking him in inch by inch, until you reached his base.

"That's it, darling, just like that," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

You hummed around him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking him hard, moaning at the taste of him. He rolled his hips, thrusting up into your mouth. You knew he was close, so you withdrew, smiling at him as he gave you a confused look.

"What are you doing darling?"

You stuck your tongue out, sliding the wide part of your tongue up and down his shaft. "I don't want you to cum just yet, I want you to fuck my mouth," you said, licking the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his.

"Oh, fuck, you are a dirty little thing, aren't you, darling?" He whispered, as he cupped your jaw with his hand.

"Mhm," you moaned, taking his tip in your mouth, sucking it gently, and looking at him, waiting for him to make a move.

He smirked, holding your hair, and pushing your head down untill your nose was pressed against his groin. You hummed, looking up at him, and relaxing your throat, letting him use your mouth. He began thrusting into your mouth, and you reached for his balls, squeezing them gently.

"Good girl. If only you could see yourself right now. Your lips stretched around my cock-"

"It's quite a sight," said the deep voice of Elijah, he was leaning in the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Klaus was standing behind him, amusement flashing in his eyes.

You pulled off of Kol and looked at them, blushing furiously. "Hi," you said in a small, raspy voice, wiping off the spit from your chin.

"Hello sweetheart," Klaus said, walking over to the bed. He brought his hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks.

"Aww look at your flushed little face," said Kol, pinching your cheek with his thumb and forefinger, smirking at you. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?" He teased, chuckling.

All three of them were towering over you and you had to crane your neck up to look at them. You were so wet from the sight, the three of them in only their swim trunks, exposing their toned chests, muscles bulging. You just wanted to jump in bed and have them take turns with you.

You shuffled a bit on your knees so you were between all three of them. They were looking down at you expectantly, Elijah ran his fingers through your hair, caressing your cheek with his thumb. All three pairs of eyes were glued to you, hooded and half closed. Your gaze was traveling from one perfect body to another. You could see their erections growing underneath the tight fabric of their swim trunks.

Kol stood up, his hard cock dangling next to your head. You circled it with your hand, gently stroking him, and looking up at him with pleading eyes. You didn't care which one of them it would be, as long as they were all going to fuck you.

You opened your mouth, waiting for one of them to fill it with his cock, Kol, who was the closest, was the first one to do it. You took his cock in your mouth again, bobbing your head, and looking up at him.

You reached out with your other hand and pulled Elijah closer by the waistband of his shorts, touching his hard on through the fabric. His breathing got heavier and he smiled, helping you free him from his confinement, hissing when you wrapped your hand around him.

You looked up at Klaus, a lustful look on your face. He gave you an amused smirk, shaking his head in disbelief, taking his time to observe you, clearly enjoying the way you begged him for his cock without even using words.

You batted your lashes at him, and he obliged, taking himself in hand, giving it a few strokes and stepping closer to you.

You pulled off of Kol, with a loud 'pop' and turned your head slightly to lick and nip Klaus's cock, all while pumping your hands up and down their lengths. They were groaning, pulling you closer, pressing against your face, leaking for you.

"Get it nice and wet for me love," Klaus said, the smirk still playing on his lips, "show me how thankful you are for this little vacation," he taunted you, "be a good girl for us."

You hummed, eagerly taking him in your mouth, sucking him hard. You took Elijah and Kol in your hands, and stroked them simultaneously, the sounds of their moans made your pussy throb.

"I don't think good girls do this, Nik," Kol said, tilting his head and grinning down at you.

Klaus moved his hips, slowly pushing himself deeper into your mouth. He released a breathy moan, watching you swallow his cock, flattening your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You swirled your tongue around him. He tangled his hand in your hair, his eyes closed, mouth parted in a low grunt.

"What a good little whore, taking all of me in," he praised, rolling his hips, thrusting shallowly in your mouth.

You moaned at his dirty words, making Kol chuckle, "I think she likes when you call her that, brother."

Klaus smirked, pulling his length out and gave you cheek a little slap with his cock, "Mhm... She does, doesn't she? "

He entered your mouth again, shoving his cock down your throat, holding your face in place. You gagged, letting out a muffled whimper as he pressed your face into his groin. Klaus's mouth fell open, and he let out a moan that was so low and guttural that it made you almost cum. He rocked his hips, fucking your mouth so deeply, watching tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

You tried to keep the pace with your hands on Elijah and Kol's cocks, but you were unable to concentrate. Your legs were trembling, wetness pooling between your legs.

Klaus held your face between his strong hands, still buried deep in your throat, using you like a doll, "good slut," he said in a strained, breathy voice, thrusting into you a few more times and releasing your face.

You almost fell forward, catching your breath, gasping for air. A trail of spit dribbled down your chin. You blinked a couple of times, looking up at the three men, their hungry, lustful eyes boring into yours.

"Finish me off and then do Kol," Klaus ordered, grabbing you by the hair.

You kept your eyes on him as you gave him a couple of long and slow licks. You brought your hand up to his pulsing shaft, rubbing your thumb against the leaking tip of his cock. He threw his head back, grunting, his hips bucking. You took the tip of him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down, sucking him quickly and moving your hand in quick motions.

"Yeah... Yeah, just like that, sweetheart," he groaned, slapping your hand away, and thrusting into your mouth a few more times, before pulling out and releasing his load on your face.

Kol and Elijah looked down at you, pride flaring in their eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Clean the mess up," Klaus grunted, smearing his cock across your lips.

You lapped up the cum from his cock, humming in pleasure. He watched you intently as you swallowed and then smiled.

Elijah and Kol were pumping themselves, groaning, waiting for their turn. The view of them, hard and aching for you, their muscles flexing and their mouths parted, was so fucking hot. You felt so powerful, having all three of them so worked up and turned on.

“What a filthy little pet," Elijah said, still stroking his length leisurely.

Klaus moved away, sitting on the bed to watch the show. You pivoted on your knees to face Kol. He had a predatory smile on his face, "shall I do you in the same fashion my other brother did, or would you prefer something different?" He asked, his eyes darting to your cleavage for a split second.

His hands went to your throat, lifting your face up to meet his gaze, his other hand coming up to your face, caressing your cheekbone. He dipped his head and kissed your breasts, hooking his fingers inside the fabric and yanking it down. He sucked one of your tits in his mouth, nibbling, and biting until you winced.

"God, you are gorgeous," he said, pinching a nipple roughly, swiping his tongue around the other, moaning around it.

You were so aroused, being at the mercy of the three of them. Each of them dominating you in their own manner. You were so excited that you were trembling in anticipation.

You gasped as Kol grabbed a fist full of your hair, guiding you crouch in front of him so your breasts were in line with his hard length, "open," he said, his tone harsher than before. You opened up and he started to shallowly fuck your mouth.

"Press your tits around it," he ordered, slowing his thrusts down. You pressed your tits around his cock, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting his precum. His head rolled back and he let out a deep groan, slowly fucking the valley of your breasts.

"Fuck that feels amazing," he moaned, making sure his length was sliding between your breasts as he moved his hips, creating friction and using your spit to further lubricate his cock.

You moved your hands, leaning back a little. You took your nipples between your index and forefinger, twirling them in different directions, you were so turned on that could could probably cum just from playing with your boobs.

"Enjoying yourself are you?" Kol sneered, "I didn't say you could do that," he said, stopping his hips altogether and grabbing you by your throat again.

You whined around him as your head was pulled back, his shaft slipping from your mouth.

"Use your hands to move your tits," he said, slowly circling his hips, fucking your mouth again. Your eyes drifted to Elijah, who was leisurely working his hand up and down his rock hard cock, watching the scene playing out.

"You look so pretty like that," Elijah said with his velvet voice, his signature smirk playing on his lips.

Kol's thumb was running back and forth over your throat, "does my cock please you?" He asked, with a naughty glint in his eye.

You were too focused on all the sensations to answer and he didn't take well to that. He squeezed your throat and pulled you away, bringing your face close to his, "I asked you a question, answer," he ordered through gritted teeth.

"Y-yes it does, Kol" you managed to breathe out, your cheeks blushing.

His smirk widened, and he loosened his grip on you. He ran the pad of his thumb over your lips, looking between your eyes and your lips. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

"Sir," he corrected you.

You felt heat spreading through your entire body, "yes sir," you whispered, looking up at him.

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes flashed with excitement, "Good girl," he praised, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip and sliding it inside your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it and you moaned softly. Kol grabbed your wrist and directed your hand to his cock, moving it up and down.

"Put this mouth to use now," he breathed out, tucking his hand back in your hair, tilting your head back a bit, making you look up at him.

You maintained eye contact as you teased him, kissing up and down his shaft, "take all of me," he grunted, resting his hand on your cheek as you circled the tip of his cock with your tongue.

Your eyes widened at the demanding tone of his voice, and did as you were told, closing your mouth around him, opening it wider, taking in more and more of him.

He tapped your cheek lightly, "what a slut," he teased, rolling his hips, pushing himself deeper down your throat. You gagged, your hands gripping his thighs, squeezing them, trying to steady yourself. He kept thrusting, his balls slapping your chin. You were drooling around him, the sound of your gags filled the room.

"Oh, yeah just like that, baby," he said, holding you in place.

You gagged some more and tried to breathe through your nose, tilting your head back, letting him use your throat as his own personal fucktoy. The corners of your mouth were aching and you were drooling, small moans escaping you.

He didn't pull out once, as he was chasing his release. Your jaw was aching but you were enjoying this dominance over you. He let out a low groan and pulled out completely, tugging roughly at his hard length until he came all over your chest and your face, his warm cum spilling over your breasts.

Kol tucked himself in his shorts and flopped down in the nearby armchair, draping an arm over his face with his usual dramatic flair, "damn..." He tilted his head and gave you a long look, his eyes trailing up and down your form. Kneeling on the ground, trembling and disheveled in your bikini, completely fucked out and sticky with cum all over your chest and your face.

"Oh, sweetheart, you are an incredible sight to see," he laughed, sinking into the chair with a relaxed demeanor. "Don't you think Elijah?" He smirked at the older Mikaelson brother who was still standing in front of you, his bottom lip between his teeth.

Elijah was giving you the most intense, penetrating stare, eyes boring into yours, a hint of a smile quirking his lips up. You pivoted on your knees to face him, stroking him up and down as you looked up at him through your lashes, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Oh, I could get used to this view," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You caught his digit with your lips and hummed softly, swirling your tongue around the pad of his thumb.

"Do you like having our cocks in your mouth?" He whispered, dark eyes looking deep into yours.

You nodded, whimpering in response as his finger slipped past your lips, plunging into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning around it, and lowering your hand to play with his balls. You caressed them gently, cupping them, giving them a soft squeeze.

"What a perfect whore you are," he said, freeing his finger from your mouth and pressing the dripping tip of his cock against your lips. You parted your lips and let him push his length into your mouth. You took him deep, all the way down your throat, making him curse and release a satisfied moan.

He placed his hands on your cheeks, guiding you as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking him harder. He was the biggest out of the three brothers and took a while to get used to his length and the width of his cock.

He pressed your head down further, stilling it and holding you in place until you gagged, your hands coming up to grip his thighs in an attempt to ground yourself.

"That's it, take it all in," he cooed, running his hand through your hair.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes and you tried to swallow around him as you choked.

"I can do whatever I want to your pretty little mouth and I will have you worshiping me just the way I like," he said as he slowly pulled his length out. You were gasping for air, blinking away the tears that had formed in your eyes and desperately trying to catch your breath.

He raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for a response, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You opened your mouth, he didn't give you a chance to answer him before he was pushing himself back inside. He thrusted deeply, snapping his hips and forcing the entirety of his length down your throat. His hips snapped sharply, fucking your throat hard and fast. You continued to choke on him and you squeezed his thigh, struggling to breathe.

"Good girl, I want to see those tears stream down your cheeks" he moaned, picking up the pace and continuing to fuck your mouth, the feeling you gagging turning him on even more.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, the look on his face made you moan, his lips parted, his eyes watching you with lust. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him cum.

He slowed his hips and you took the opportunity to press you head all the way down, deep throating him then pulling off and repeating this. You gagged with every pass, maintaining eye contact with him.

"God, I love seeing you like this," he breathed, his hips jerking. He grabbed your hair and pressed you against his groin, holding you there, your nose buried in the coarse, dark hair around the base of his cock.

"Mmmmm" you moaned, choking, the vibrations of your moan caused Elijah to release a deep, guttural sound and his hips to buck involuntarily. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tighten and he held your head in place as he emptied himself into your throat. You swallowed eagerly, milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You kept sucking him, cleaning his length and pulling more from him untill he softened.

You looked up at him, waiting for his next order. He was standing above you, breathing heavily, his face flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded.

He stroked your cheek, his fingers brushing your bottom lip, his expression unreadable, "such a perfect little cock whore aren't you?" He said in a low voice.

You smiled and nodded, humming, looking around at the three of them. All of them were breathing hard, their skin covered in a sheen of sweat. They looked absolutely breathtaking, lounging around and completely spent, the satisfied smiles on their faces making your heart swell with pride.

You were a mess as well, kneeling on the ground in front of them, trembling, panting, sweating. Your bikini top was ripped and all you were wearing was the skimpy bottom, your skin was sticky with their cum. The taste of all three of them lingering on your lips.

Kol stood and suddenly scooped you up, carrying you bridal style to the deck of the yacht, you shrieked and giggled as he ran.

The sunlight blinded you momentarily, and you blinked, tucking your head in his neck to shield your eyes from the blazing sun and take a deep breath.

"Ahh look, a beautiful beach right up ahead!" He said, laughing, his breath tickling your skin. "I want to fuck you on the sand, doll," he said in a rushed whisper, making you wriggle in his arms.

"Kol!!!" You protested, trying to break free, but he held you tight as he ran towards the side of the boat, stopping in the nick of time, "what are you doing? Oh, my god! You're crazy!" You were laughing, and cursing as you struggled against his grip, your hands cradling the back of his head.

"I am darling," he said, then jumped off the edge of the yacht with you in his arms, into the water below.

You screamed before you hit the water, bubbles rising up around you. Once you emerged, Kol pulled you back into his arms, peppering your face with kisses.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, arms circled around his neck, giggling, "you scared me."

"Sorry, it was too tempting. I couldn't help myself," he said between kisses and giving you an unapologetic smile.

You splashed water at him and he responded by diving underwater, pulling at the fabric of your bikini bottoms and yanking it off you. He swam to the surface and waved the fabric in his hand, "this is mine now."

"What?! Kol!" You said, swimming towards him and grabbing his shoulders, "give it back!" You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He kissed your nose, his eyes darting over to the beach, "I'll let you have it back after I've had you on beach," he said, smirking.

"No!" You shrieked and giggled, trying to wrestle him and snatch the material from his hand.

"Give them back Kol," Elijah's voice rang out from above, him and Klaus were leaning over the side of the yacht, looking down at the two of you.

Kol ignored them and threw the bottoms as far as he could, you immediately lost sight of them in the ocean waves.

"KOL!" You squealed, hitting his chest.

He let out a sharp, short laugh, "you don't need them, sweetheart, we are the only ones out here, just relax, enjoy yourself," he was massaging your ass in his large hands, tugging your cheeks apart, spreading you open, squeezing your flesh.

"Besides, I love the idea of you walking around naked," he added, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

He carried you to the shore, pressing you down into the wet sand. He pinned your hands over your head, kissing and nuzzling your neck, "be a good little whore, won't you? Stay still for me."

You hummed, nodding and squirming underneath him, he had you pinned under his weight and he was grinding his hard cock against your clit, making you gasp and arch your back.

He sunk his fangs into your neck, eliciting a yelp from you, "be still," he repeated, licking the spot that he just bit, soothing the tender flesh. He eased his cock into you, filling you slowly, inch by inch.

His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart and rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of you. The sand was rough and hot against your skin and your back was moving up and down the sandy ground with each thrust. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, but you didn't care at the moment.

Your heels dug into the back of his legs, egging him on, angling your hips up for him. You were focused on his fangs grazing your neck, his grunts and heavy breathing, his cock nudging against your g-spot with every stroke.

He had you gasping and squirming underneath him, he smirked at you through hooded eyes, picking up the pace, hearing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours over the crashing waves.

"Cum all over my cock, darling," he breathed in your ear, as his pace quickened, his strokes became sloppy and uncoordinated as he neared his own climax.

You squeezed around him and let go, arching up to kiss him and moaning into his mouth as you shook, waves of pleasure flowing through you. He was relentless, pounding you fast and hard, stilling his hips and releasing deep inside you, letting out a primal grunt.

You were both sweating and completely out of breath as you stayed connected. You slid your hands up his arms and into his hair, smiling up at him.

"Enjoy yourself?" He asked, his damp hair falling into his face, droplets clinging to his forehead.

"Always," you whispered, pulling him closer, and pecking his lips.

He was about to say something else when Klaus' voice boomed, interrupting him.

"Ship is leaving, you two! Stop fucking and get back on board!"

Kol chuckled and looked over his shoulder at his brother, "we're not done yet, Nik! We're staying on this island and finding that missing bikini bottom," he shouted back.

You laughed and pushed on Kol's chest, "come on, you idiot, let's get back to the boat."

"Fine," he said, with an exaggerated sigh.

You swam your way back to the boat and climbed up the nearby ladder. Elijah was standing at the top of it, waiting for you, you stumbled as you clambered up the last few rungs of the ladder and would have face planted, if his strong hands hadn't caught you.

"Hello there," he flashed you a grin, "having fun I see," he surveyed the multiple love bites across your neck and shoulder with a hint of amusement.

"Hi," you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, admiring the hair curled there. He was your favorite of the three, the way he would look at you made your heart race, his deep voice made your knees weak.

The private hook-ups the two of you have had were always the most intense. You weren't sure what it was, but there was a fire between the two of you, one that burned hotter than the others.

"Where is Kol?" Elijah asked, looking over your shoulder.

"Still looking for my bikini," you said, giggling, "he won't find it, it's too far gone."

"Well, in the meantime," he said, before leaning in and kissing you slowly and passionately, gliding his hands up your bare back. You smiled against his lips, looping your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss.

He guided you backwards to the built in couches that lined the side of the boat, pushing you down onto the seat. You let out a soft gasp from the impact, looking up at him and biting your lip. He was towering above you, the sun illuminating his muscular form, making his skin glow.

He smiled and kneeled before you, his hands running up and down your thighs. He continued to spread them, leaning forward to kiss your stomach, making you giggle. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled you towards him, kissing his way down, trailing his lips over your inner thighs, sucking and nipping at the skin.

He ran his nose over your mound and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit, "so lovely," he breathed, his warm breath caressing your already sensitive pussy. He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your clit, flicking the tip.

He hummed as he tasted you, pressing his mouth to your pussy lips and sucking on them, drawing a long moan from you. He flicked and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue, before closing his lips around it and sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the nub.

"Eli," you whined, letting out a long moan, running your hands through his thick hair. He hummed, the vibrations sending tingles through your whole body.

He moved his tongue to your entrance, slipping it in, licking up the slickness. He fucked you with his tongue, his thumb coming up to massage your clit.

You were a moaning, writhing mess under his mouth, so lost in bliss you didn't notice Klaus sitting down next to you until he spoke.

"Hello, love," he smirked, taking a sip from his glass.

"Hey," you moaned, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek, running a finger over his bottom lip.

He grabbed your hand and kissed your fingers, before placing the cool, crystal glass to your lips.

You sipped the cool, bubbly liquid, looking up at him, eyes sparkling, "thanks."

He set the glass down, and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips and dipping inside. You gasped into Klaus' mouth as Elijah's tongue dipped between you cheeks, licking up and down, teasing your entrance, before circling his tongue around the tight ring.

You whimpered as he licked you and Klaus chuckled, kissing his way down your neck.

Kol finally appeared, standing over the two of them, watching as they ravished you, "look what I found," he said, dangling a bikini bottom from his fingers.

"I don't think she needs it," Klaus said, his breath tickling your neck.

"True," Kol said, tossing the scrap of material away and sitting on the couch next to you, reaching out to pluck a bottle of champagne out of an ice bucket, before taking a long drink and pouring some down your chest and torso.

Elijah licked the bubbles off your chest, giving special attention to your breasts, before making his way up and claiming your mouth again. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands were gripping your thighs, keeping them spread open.

"Such a perfect slut for us," he breathed. You moaned, gyrating your hips, craving their touch, your body flushed with desire. Elijah moved back down, kissing your stomach, making his way back between your legs.

Your fingers curled in Elijah's damp hair, massaging his scalp as he kept his mouth on you. The warmth in your belly was spreading and the tightness building. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, as he sent you over the edge, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking as your orgasm ripped through your body.

You gushed over his face, moaning and gasping at the stimulation, panting as you came down from your high. He sucked a little harder, making you kick your legs and try to push away.

"Too much, Eli!" you pleaded, unable to escape his vice-like grip.

He didn't stop and just gave you a smirk, making a show of it, and enjoying the look of pleasure and agony on your face.

He hummed softly, pressing two fingers into your ass, causing you to cry out and squeeze your thighs together, as he continued his attack on your clit, "Eli, I can't, please"

Kol bit your earlobe, and you felt the sharpness of his teeth, "you can and you will, you'll give our brother exactly what he wants, won't you?"

You nodded, moaning in response, letting Elijah stretch you open, working another finger inside, his tongue swirling, licking, sucking.

"Eli-" you cried, pulling on his hair as you felt him plunge his fingers deep and curl them inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut, tears stung the corners of your eyes, it was overwhelming, so intense.

"Eli, I'm cumming, please, I'm-" the rest of your sentence was cut off, your whole body tensed, a loud, long, drawn out moan escaped you.

You couldn't control the shaking, your mind went blank, your body was flooded with endorphins and you were a puddle in the arms of Kol and Klaus, who held you as you came.

Elijah finally moved his mouth away, his fingers still in your ass, he kissed you hard and you tasted yourself on his tongue.

Klaus grabbed the bottle of champagne and handed it to Elijah, who drank deeply, wiping his mouth on his forearm. He pushed your thighs back, and Kol and Klaus hooked their arms under your knees, holding you open.

Elijah removed his fingers and pushed his trunks down to his thighs, grabbing his cock, stroking himself slowly, smirking as you watched him.

You swallowed, looking between the three men, feeling like a trapped animal, you had nowhere to go, they had you surrounded.

"What a sight, sweetheart, such a slut," Elijah praised, brushing his thumb over your clit. You jolted and whined, "so sensitive, aren't we? Poor little whore, you've been fucked so many times, your body is just aching to be used."

"Eli," you whispered, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. He chuckled, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, making you moan. "That's not what you call me when we are alone," he whispered, his dark eyes boring into yours, his expression stern, the veins rippling under his eyes.

You licked your lips, taking in a breath, Kol and Klaus exchanged glances, they didn't know about your private hookups with Elijah.

"I'm sorry... daddy," you replied, looking up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and innocent as they could be in this position.

He grinned, pleased with your answer and Klaus and Kol snickered, making Elijah's smile widen, showing his white teeth, "much better," he cooed, his grip tightening, as he aligned his cock with your ass, pushing past the rim, sinking deep inside.

Your hands flew to his wrists, squeezing tightly, your eyes pleading with him to go slow, even though you knew he wouldn't, and he didn't. He thrust hard and fast, making your toes curl, Klaus and Kol holding you tight and keeping you from wiggling away.

They were both touching and groping, whispering dirty things in your ears, the combined attention had you soaring towards your next orgasm.

"You're such a little slut for us, aren't you? Our perfect, little, cock whore, aren't you darling?" Kol murmured, his hand cupping your breast, rolling and pinching the nipple. Klaus was playing with your other nipple, tugging and squeezing, and you were lost in their touch and words.

"Yes, I'm a little slut, please-" you gasped, arching up, the intensity of Elijah's thrusts sending shockwaves through you. Elijah's hand tightened on your throat, his cock plunging deep, making your eyes roll back and you let out a choked moan, the stretch was so good.

"Tell them," Elijah said, his voice was commanding, demanding, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Tell them how much of a filthy little slut you are," he said, his eyes staring directly into yours, his thrusts getting faster and sloppier.

You whined, squirming in their hold, the heat was building and your head was fuzzy. Kol gave you a light slap on the cheek, bringing you back, "tell us, sweetheart, don't keep us waiting."

"I'm a dirty little whore," you panted, looking up at Elijah, whose lips were curled into a devilish grin, "a cock-hungry little slut," he grunted, his hips snapping.

"You're ours, all ours, aren't you? You love this, being filled and stretched, being used by all three of us, don't you?" Kol's words had you clenching around Elijah's cock, your whole body was trembling, so close to your climax.

"Yes, yes, yes," you moaned, arching your back, feeling Klaus and Kol's hands exploring your body.

"Good girl," Elijah said, loosening his hold on your neck, "so obedient"

He withdrew his hips and snapped them forward, drawing a loud moan from you, which encouraged him, and he began fucking you, hard and fast, setting a brutal pace. He leaned down, capturing your mouth, kissing you tenderly, as if to apologize for the roughness of his thrusts.

"I want to see her ass stretched wide and gaping for us," Kol hummed, his hands roaming down your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh, as Elijah continued to pound into you.

Elijah was getting close, his hands were shaking, his face contorting with the effort to control himself, his mouth open in a silent moan. His hips stilled, he let out a guttural groan as he filled you, his cock twitching and pulsing, his cum dripping out of you.

He pulled out slowly, and Kol watched, entranced, watching how your ass gaped, and the cum leaking from you.

"Such a dirty, filthy, slut, sweetheart," Kol cooed, his fingers sliding down and rubbing your sensitive clit. You gasped and whimpered, the stimulation making you writhe and squirm, trying to escape his touch.

Klaus' hand covered your mouth, "shhhh, we're not done with you, darling, we want you to cum for us one more time." He looked at his brother and smirked, "do you think she can do it?"

You cried out, muffled by Klaus' hand, feeling him pinch your clit, before he pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs to straddle him. His lips found yours and you moaned into the kiss, he held you tightly, his hands on your waist, guiding you to his cock, "such a good girl, you're going to ride me, and you're not allowed to cum, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," you breathed.

"Good," he said, his voice was a low growl, his eyes flashing amber, he looked dangerous, and it made your blood rush and heart race. "Now make yourself useful," he smirked, smacking you hard on the ass.

You sank onto him, moaning as he stretched you, grinding against him, loving the feel of his cock rubbing inside you. He smacked your ass again, "come on, darling, move, I'm not getting any younger," he growled.

You lifted yourself and slid back down, rolling your hips and clenching around him. Elijah sat down on the couch and took your hand, placing it on his already hard cock, encouraging you to stroke him. He leaned forward and kissed you, his hand caressing your cheek, "so perfect, little one, keep riding my brother, I know you can do it."

Kol came up behind you, running his hands over your hips and down your legs, before sliding them up your stomach and cupping your breasts, rolling and squeezing them. He kissed your shoulder, and nibbled on the skin, his cock pressing into your ass, grinding against you.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you were panting and moaning, the tightness building in your core. Klaus grabbed your throat, squeezing, "look at me," he demanded. You forced your eyes open, gazing at him through your lashes, feeling light headed and dizzy, the pleasure building, the tightness almost painful.

"Don't cum, not yet," he ordered, and you whimpered, squeezing his cock, the feeling of being full was driving you crazy. You were close, so close, and he wasn't letting you finish.

"I'm sorry," you whined, stilling your hips, trying to pull away from his hand, "I can't, sir, I'm gonna cum."

Klaus pulled you forward by the neck, holding you tight against his chest, his hands on your ass, squeezing and massaging, spreading your cheeks wide.

"Don't you dare move," Klaus growled in your ear, "and stay quiet, you don't want everyone to hear what a filthy whore you are, do you?"

You shook your head, biting your lip, burying your face in his neck, your breathing heavy. You felt Kol press his cock against your asshole and he slid in slowly. You cried out, the sound muffled by Klaus' shoulder.

Kol's hands gripped your waist and he started moving, fucking you in earnest. Klaus held your hips still, his fingers digging into your flesh. You were trapped between them, their cocks filling you. Kol's thrusts were hard and fast, each time he hit bottom, the air was pushed from your lungs, and you could only hold on and take it.

They were relentless, their bodies moving in unison, and when they picked up the pace, and you were on the brink, you had no choice but to let go.

You tried to stifle your moans, to hide the fact that you were coming apart between the two men, and they weren't having it.

Kol's hand found its way into your hair and he tugged, pulling your head back, "we said no, and yet, here you are, cumming without permission," he hissed, slamming his hips into yours, his cock pulsing.

"Such a naughty slut," Klaus added, reaching between your legs, rubbing your clit, and making you gasp, "such a bad girl," he said, his voice low, "and we know exactly what to do with bad girls, don't we Elijah?"

Elijah stood and stepped up onto the couch, and placed his cock on your cheek, "open your mouth, darling, you need to be taught a lesson," he demanded.

You obeyed, and his cock slipped into your mouth, he didn't let you have control, he held your head, pulling you flush into his groin, "take it, all the way," he urged, and you gagged, trying to relax your throat, your nose pressed into the hair at the base of his cock.

"Good girl, such a good slut," he praised, thrusting his hips, fucking your face, and you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of being used and filled by the three men.

Kol smacked your ass hard, over and over, until the skin was hot and sore, he slapped it again and again, as he fucked you, his movements becoming more erratic, his cock pulsed and twitched, and you felt his cum fill you.

His orgasm was intense, his breathing heavy, and when he was finished, he withdrew from you, laying back on the deck with his limbs spread, a goofy smile on his face.

You were still full, your jaw ached, Elijah's cock was deep down your throat and you gagged around it, but he didn't relent, his hips bucking, fucking your face. Your vision was blurry, the tears in your eyes obscuring everything, you could only feel, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind numb, your body floating.

Elijah withdrew as Klaus tensed, he pulled you off his lap, forcing you to your knees, his cock in his hand, stroking himself. He groaned loudly as he came, ropes of white spurting out and landing on your face and chest. Elijah was right behind him, and he pulled your hair, his cock throbbing, his cum coating your tongue and lips, his groans reverberating through you.

He released his grip, his hand running through your hair, his thumb running over your cheek, collecting their cum, and pushing it into your mouth, and you sucked it clean.

"That's our good girl," Klaus murmured, his finger caressing your jaw, as he admired his handiwork.

The boat drifted along, the waves crashing against the hull, and the sun was setting, painting the sky and ocean in a warm orange glow.

You laid on the floor, covered in cum, sweat, and champagne, surrounded by the three naked brothers, your body sore and aching.

You smiled and let out a contented sigh, you were sated and happy, and there was nothing that could ruin this perfect day.

"So, who's hungry?" Kol asked, his head propped on his hand, a mischievous grin on his face.

The other brothers chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and laughing at the insatiable man.

"Well, we should probably shower, get cleaned up, then we can figure out food," you suggested, looking around the mess that was once a pristine yacht. There were towels and champagne bottles strewn everywhere, the smell of sex and alcohol filling the air.

"What a wonderful idea," Elijah replied, helping you to your feet, you fell over a bit, still wobbly from the rough treatment, and he caught you. He pulled you close and scooped you up, carrying you towards the jacuzzi. The three men climbed in, and Kol turned on the jets, the water bubbling, and the steam rose up.

The four of you were relaxed, the warm water soothing your aching muscles, Elijah pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

Kol and Klaus sat next to you, the two brothers leaning on the edge, their arms crossed over the side, their eyes closed. You looked around the tub, admiring the view of the ocean, the golden sunset reflecting on the water.

You thought about the events of the day, and the memories made, and it was clear, this was the most magnificent, decadent, and debaucherous spring break you would ever have.

And the best part was, it wasn't even over yet, this was only the first day.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to Elijah.

This was going to be the best week ever.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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henneseyhoe · 18 days

Text

What A Woman Wants; Taste

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, Chiron an eater in this but when is he not, pussy slapping, slut shaming (kinda), fingering, dirty talk, drug use(just a luh weed) no actual PinV, !!Unedited!!.

SUMMARY: The beginning of various stories about the reader, her diary and her many favorites.

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Whore, slut, fast, hot, easy. What really is the definition of promiscuity? Maybe just a woman who sleeps around. Or someone who’s had many boyfriends and flings. Would she be a whore if she slept with a married man? What if she didn’t know? Would she still be a whore?

The word was as complex as sexual relations in itself, but in her mind, everyone was a whore. Everyone had whorish ways. Some people liked to be smacked on the ass when they fucked, some liked to be spat on, tied up, scratched, degraded, praised, and then some. So what was the problem that she got what she liked but from different people? Nothing, she thought.

She had men from one end to the other side of the pond. Short, tall, muscular, skinny, masculine, feminine, you name it. She’s seen dicks nearly the size of her forearm all over the globe. She kept track of the ones she liked in a diary and tossed the ones that were no fun.

One of her favorites who also happens to be an old classmate from college ate pussy like a starved man and only got up when she told him to, and that’s exactly how she liked her men; doing what she told them to do.

A blunt in hand and tattooed legs spread from one end of the bed to the other, he drank from her fountain, quenching his thirst as she gushed around his fingers. His other free hand softly caressed her bare pussy, fingertips dancing along her mound before they pressed against her aching clit.

Pulling his tongue from alongside his thrusting fingers, he looks down and admires the wet and dirty scene in front of him, the second pair of your lips shining like he had just applied baby oil to her.

“Pretty ass pussy”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Mhm. Looking like this and you expect me to keep my mouth off of you?”

She hums out a moan, her pretty toes curling at that.

“I missed you all month, you might be in this position for a while”

He smirked and pulls out of her, watching as her hole winked and shrunk back to it’s small size that once accommodated his thick fingers. Pulling the hood of her clit back, the pink button pops up from underneath, greeting him with a few twitches as her pussy clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, baby…”

She watched him with just as much affection, but his eyes were too fixed on her heat to glare back at her. Blowing cold air onto the bundle of nerves, he pulls a long moan from her and he smiles in return before taking four of his fingers a licking across the tips of them, his other hand still occupied with the hood of her clit as he did so.

He pumped fake a few times, lifting that hand to her pussy and making her flinch before his hand finally came down and spanked her sensitive clit, the woman nearly dropping the spliff in her hand as her chest rises, a shock of both pain and pleasure running through her core.

“Fuck!” She breathes, smoke exiting her mouth. She was quick to sit the drug down in an ashtray laid on the bed next to her, the man on his knees in front of her still laying smacks to her pussy until her legs were shaking and she was squirting all over herself. Swirls in her stomach and stars in her eyes, she almost thanked god that her ass was halfway off of the bed so her sheets didn’t get wet but she soon realized she celebrated too early, the large palm of his hand beginning to rub her entire pussy instead and replace the teasing strikes, all of the juices that were once just falling on the hardwood floor spraying on anything within ten inches of her. That included on herself too.

She couldn’t speak and tell him to let up off of her if she wanted to, her stomach felt like it caved in as she had yet to let go of her breath to continue receiving oxygen.

He opened his mouth and welcomed all that she gave onto his tongue, a smile also playing on his face. He loved it when it was messy, wet to the point where it could be considered soaked even. His goatee covered in pussy juice showed and proved that to be true, droplets of her dripping from his chin.

Even after she was finished he still went in and licked her up from her clit to the puckering rim of her asshole, fixated upon the idea to make her cum again if she’d let him.

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💌~ startin this thang off with some good ole pussy eatin, iktr!😼💀 hope yall enjoyed tho, i think imma really enjoy this lil series just cause it’s a bunch of random shorts and not an actual storyline 😭 like everything and everyone is connected still but it doesn’t matter until brought up lmao.

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luveline · 8 months

Note

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!”

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.”

“I will never walk again.”

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again.

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks.

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.”

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides.

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.”

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.”

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving.

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?”

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.”

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?”

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.”

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.”

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly.

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says.

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands.

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.”

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often.

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now.

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.”

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.”

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue.

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be.

“How was your morning?” he asks.

“Being a princess is awful.”

“Yes, but it suits you.”

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?”

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession.

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.”

“No, I was. Ask Robin.”

“He was,” Robin says.

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises.

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.”

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head.

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says.

Steve pretends he can’t hear her.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

Hi! Could I request a plus size!reader with James? Maybe where she gets upset because she can’t wear his clothes and she can’t do cute little girlfriend things like him picking her up and stuff like that?

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: size insecurity

modern au ig because new girl

James Potter x plus size!reader ♡ 956 words

“I’m kind of thinking of jumping back to season four,” you call towards the bedroom. “Jess is about to leave for jury duty, and I don’t like those episodes as much.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got them all memorized anyway,” James says back. “Why don’t we just watch Friends instead?”

Your mouth twists even though he can’t see it, but luckily, the feeling behind the expression carries in your voice anyway. “Because it’s not as good.”

“Okay.” James rolls his eyes lightly as he emerges from your bedroom, now clad in pajamas to match you. “We can do New Girl again, but I need my pillow, please.”

You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance as you uncurl your legs from underneath you and prop your feet on the coffee table. James hurries over, sprawling out on the couch and settling his head on the cushion of your thighs. He’s due for a haircut. His thick curls spread out around him like the sun’s rays. He smiles up at you, dopey, and you tamp down a grin as you start the episode.

Not ten minutes in, there’s a flashback about when one character was in college. Bigger, dorkier, romantically inept. It’s played for a laugh. You glance down at James. He’s wormed a hand under your leg and is kneading the fat there like putty. It’s an absentminded gesture, nothing critical about it, but you wonder if he’s correlating you with the actor on screen, bumbling and the butt of the joke in his fatsuit.

You comb a hand through James’ hair, and he looks up, catches you watching him. He’s never been one to mind being observed. He shoots you a smile, catching your hand with his other and pressing it to his lips.

You smile back. “Do you ever wish you had a skinny girlfriend?” you ask him.

If he’s surprised by the abruptness of the question, he doesn’t show it. “Nope,” he answers. “Never. What would I do for a pillow?”

You consciously keep your smile in place, fixing your eyes back on the screen. The one character is telling the story of how embarrassing it was to lose his virginity. Like sex was borderline impossible, just because he was chubby.

You feel James’ head shift on your legs, and look down to find he’s turned towards you. “We manage just fine,” he whispers conspiratorially.

You exhale amusedly through your nose. “Yeah? I don’t near crush you every time?”

“It’s really cute that you think you could, lovie.”

You roll your eyes, letting them land on the TV. “Sometimes I wish I could do more…quintessential girlfriend stuff.” You can feel James’ eyes on you, but he keeps quiet. “Like when girls steal their boyfriend’s hoodies and stuff.”

You look down, and James’ eyebrows have lowered slightly. “You could borrow my hoodies if you wanted to,” he says. “Angel, you know I think you’re the perfect size, don’t you? Do I not tell you that enough?”

You give him a little smile, shoulders coming up bashfully. (He does. He makes little comments all day long—how pretty you look, how he loves your thighs, how soft and warm you are when you’re cuddling, how lovely and squishable your ass is in his hands.) “It’s not you,” you say, “it’s just hard not to think about those girls who, like, drown in their boyfriends’ clothes, you know? And your stuff fits almost tight on me.”

James looks at you considerately, nodding. You and he aren’t vastly different sizes, with James’ bulky frame and wide shoulders. You just…he treats you like you’re precious, but sometimes you wish you looked precious standing next to him, too. You wish he could pick you up with one arm or make jokes about you being tiny like a chihuahua or whatever else it is the boyfriends of petite girls do.

“I realize this is rather selfish,” James says, “but I actually quite enjoy that I’m able to borrow your clothes from time to time.” He glances pointedly down at his shirt, which you now realize has been pilfered from your wardrobe. “And if it’s baggy clothes you’re looking for, I could always get a couple loose-fitting hoodies, wear them around and get ‘em all smelled up, and then pass them on to you.” You must look about as lovesick as you feel, because his smile returns, brown eyes sweetly knowing. “Does that sound like something you’d like?”

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip to keep from beaming too embarrassingly. “Yes, please. Thanks, Jamie.”

“Course.” He gives your thigh a hearty squeeze, turning his head to press a wet smooch to your skin. “You know, those other girls are missing out on things, too,” he says. “I doubt their boyfriends spend so much time lounging on them, and I know how much you love it when I make your legs fall asleep.”

You snicker. “You’re right, I do love that.”

James’ smile spreads wider at your response. “I know you do, lovie. All for you, of course. Also, I know it’s not a hoodie, but I have that one red jumper that’s pretty big on me. You know the one?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You sit up straighter. “I totally forgot about that. Could I use it?”

“What’s mine is yours.”

“Thanks.” You scoot out from under him, and James sits up, upset.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going? I was comfy!”

“To change,” you call back from halfway down the hall.

“Never change, angel!” You roll your eyes at the stupid joke, grinning to yourself. “I love you just the way you are!”

571 notes · View notes

bluewxrld07 · 8 months

Text

Hurt My Feelings (Ethan Edwards)

Warning(s): mutual pining, angst, cheating, making out, groping/touching

Ethan Edwards x femalebff!reader (there's also a little bit of Luke Hughes x reader oops ;) )

Summary: Based off of Tate McRae's song Hurt My Feelings :)

She wears your number, but I've got what you like

She's got you right now, but I'm still on your mind

The rink was cold. It always was. No matter how many times she's sat in one, whether it was for a tournament or for just one game, she still was cold no matter what.

She was wearing her UMich gear; supporting a hockey sweatshirt in the the familiar navy blue with yellow lettering underneath her jacket, a pair of grey jogger sweats with their team logo, a UMich hat, and a pair of UMich mittens made by the famous Edwards mother herself. A gift from her two birthdays ago after learning y/n would be attending the same college with Ethan.

Y/n found her seat in the third row opposite from the benches, wrapping her blanket around her legs as she sat. Once she was situated, she looked around the arena, watching as people piled into their seats. Some making their way down to the glass to watch the boys warmups up close.

That's when her eyes stopped and did a double take, following back to the familiar head of platinum blonde hair standing right behind the glass, standing directly across the rink from where y/n was sitting. She wore the oh so familiar home jersey with the number 73 on her back, with leather skinny jeans.

Her makeup looking a tad too overdone, a large sign sitting front of her and her friends with a thirst quote written out on it in big letters. The chomping of the girl's gum also being very noticeable. Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes as she watched Ethan's girlfriend rave with her friends, probably bragging and talking about the boy himself.

Ethan was not someone who enjoyed signs with messages such as the one written on his girlfriend's board. Course the signs were fine when it was younger kids coming to watch, but he always said it looked desperate.

When y/n and him would lay outside talking about life, he always stated that he would want his future girlfriend to be the one sitting in the stands with his family. Not the one behind the glass with a cliche sign. Sure he didn't mind it when it came to fans, but when it was his girlfriend, it was a different story.

He wanted to be able to come out for warmups, search for her and smile when he did. Be able to look up at her every so often in between drills, waving, making gestures, mouthing something out to her, anything like that.

Y/n was lost in her thoughts when Ethan's mom's voice rung out happily. "Ugh I'm so glad you made it before me! I thought I was gonna be too late and we wouldn't get our usual spots." she jokes, a large smile on her face as she sat next to the college girl pulling her in for a bear hug.

She supported a homemade sweatshirt customized with her son's number and name on the sides of the sleeves, mittens with 73 on both of them as well as a UMich tie blanket.

"You know me, I like to be early thanks to always having parents fashionably late to everything," y/n chuckles as they pulled away from one another.

Ethan's mom gave her a look, knowing exactly what she meant. "Oh sweetheart trust me I know. Why do you think I always tell your parents an earlier time nowadays? So then they're actually on time to things."

"Yeah no kidding. I'm always the one stressing."

As the pair talked, the seats and the edges around the glass began to fill with students and fans. Before they knew it the music started to blare out, cheers increasing as the teams came out for warmups.

Y/n clapped alongside the elder woman, the pair still conversing as they watched the boys skate around the ice.

Y/n's eyes fell to the familiar head of brown hair poking out of the helmet he wore, watching as he shot into the net a few times. Not6 long after did her eyes find his girlfriend once again, seeing the girl bouncing up and down like a toddler and banging on the glass eyeing Ethan as he skated around.

She watched as her and her friends banged on the glass and shook the sign made, trying to get him to notice it.

"She's absolutely embarrassing." y/n hears next to her, looking over to Ethan's mom, whom has a disgusted look on her face while staring at the platinum head of hair across the rink.

"Not a fan of her?" she asks, watching the woman shake her head immediately.

"I tried giving her a chance. I truly did. But she is just not anywhere near his type. Or even respectful for that matter," she admits while shaking her head, finding her song back on the ice. "She got drunk at dinner with us the first time we met her. The second time we met her she got into an argument with my husband." Shay says.

Y/n stays silent and just chuckles lightly, focusing back to the boys on the ice.

Ethan peers up at the stands, scanning them before his eyes find her own. He smiles largely with a goofy smile and nods his head up as if saying 'what up'. Y/n feels her face heat up, butterflies in her stomach.

She nods back at him with a humored smile playing on her lips. His gaze falling to his mom next to her blowing her a kiss. She smiles warmly at her son and sends a million kisses back and cheers for him, watching his focus go back to drills.

Y/n wanted to take that and rub it in his girlfriends face, whom was still desperately trying to get his attention. Yet she was better than that, so she just stayed content in her seat as she watched the boys.

After a while, it was nearing the end of their warmups as her and the older woman had small talk about how school has been. They kept their eyes on the team in front of them, soon seeing Ethan skate up towards the glass on their side of the rink, eyeing y/n whom looked at him with a questioning expression.

He points towards the tunnel where they came from as if saying to meet him over there, her nodding immediately as she unwrapped herself from her cocoon.

She tells the woman next to her she will be right back, the woman shooing her off with a knowing smile.

Y/n makes her way down the steps towards the tunnel, feeling a certain blonde's eyes on her, making her try to hide a humored grin on her face. Ethan skates over slowly and greets some of the younger kids waiting by the entrance for the players.

She leans over the railing with a small smile on her face, watching as he makes his way towards her removing his helmet to look at her clearly.

He reaches his hand up as she re moves her mitten and reaches her own hand down, doing their little handshake together.

"You cold over there Rudolph?" he jokes, earning and eyeball from her.

"Yeah yeah, haven't heard that one before." she scoffs and he laughs at her expression.

"You want to meet the guys and I for dinner afterwards? We might hit up Bell's Diner," he says, and she immediately feels her insides warm.

He's asking her to join him. Not the blonde who was insanely upset on the other side of the rink. Her.

"Yeah I might be up for it." she shrugs, earning a smack to her hand that still hung with his.

I should've known better, you should've known better than me

"Ow, okay, ow, Ethan! Stop that hurts!" Y/n cries out with a laugh, the boy now sitting on her as she was laying on the couch, video game controller in his hands.

"No you stay here." he laughs.

She squeaks out and tries poking at his sides to get him off of her, watching as he twitches from her hands. "Ethan I have class in like fifteen minutes! I swear if you don't get off of me, I'm-"

"What? You're in no place to call the shots, you can't move," he jokes out looking down at her in amusement. Her arms fall other sides, looking up at him with a scowl, then crosses her arms over he chest.

Ethan laughs down at her before unpausing his game, y/n's mouth dropping offendedly. She begins to huff and puff dramatically, her head turning away from him as her sighs get louder each time her ignores her.

Once she sees that her dramatic sighs are not doing the trick, she conjures up a devilish grin.

It's a few moments of silence, but then before Ethan knows it, the girl underneath him begins screaming. He immediately jumps up in surprise from the loud yell she conjures up, the girl now scrambling off the couch and up the stairs to get her bag for class.

She hears his footsteps coming up the staircase as well as the calls of her name with some empty joking threats such as ones like 'I'm gonna throw you into the pool' or her favorite, 'I will force you to play in my spot the next home game'.

She's zipping up her jacket and throwing her backpack over her shoulder by the time her reaches her, an amused smile on both their lips.

"Ethan, no." she giggles, watching him stalk closer to her. She puts her arms out to keep him away. Her breathing getting heavy in between laughs as he gets closer.

She finds herself backing into a wall, completely screwed now as he now stands directly in front of her. His hands find her waist while his eyes are piercing down into her own, a devilish smile on his lips.

The closeness between them made her insides churn with excitement and nervousness, unsure of what was next to come.

"I wanted to spend time with you," he drags out, she rolls her eyes. "I don't see you much anymore."

"I was here yesterday."

"Okay but still, You get so busy with classes this time of year, and I have Hockey. So I don't see you a ton." he says, leaning his forehead on her own, giving her waist a squeeze.

She swallows lightly, her breathing becoming heavy as her heart. pounds in her chest. "I miss you." he mutters, his eyes finding hers.

Her eyes look into his, their faces so close now. Her heart was yelling at her to close the distance, but her mind kept screaming back and chanting girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend.

She watched him close his eyes, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Y/n closed her eyes tight, taking a deep breath before place a hand on his chest and lightly pushing him back. "I've gotta go Eddy." she sighs, and walks away from him.

Ethan stayed in his spot, her scent still there, captivating as ever. Once he hears the front door close, his head drops back as he lets out a groan and rubs his hand on his face.

"Fuck"

I'm tryna tell myself I'm gonna stay away from you

I should've known better, you've got a way that's gonna weigh-weigh on me

It was New Years Eve, and of course the Hockey team was throwing a big party. They threw one every year. Y/n always helped plan them, per Rutger and his girlfriends pleas.

This year made it harder for her to say yes. She's been avoiding Ethan as much as she can, ignoring his texts and calls. Trying to distance herself from the need she had for him inside. She thought she was doing what was best for the both of them. Their want and need for one another was climbing. So she put a stop to it. At least is trying to.

The Hockey house was definitely bumping, the time being eleven o'clock. So close to ball drop. Y/n accepted that she would either end up kissing some random guy at midnight, or better yet, nobody at all.

Each year, she wished for Ethan to be that one she kissed. To feel his lips on her own. Yet it always ended up being nobody.

Of course Ethan knew she never had a new years kiss, so he would place his lips on her cheek after midnight and claim that that could count as her new years kiss.

She doubted she would get that now. After she had been avoiding him like the plague, stating she was so busy with classes and homework. Or that she was too sick to answer the phone sometimes.

She knew Ethan would see right through her each time though. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he knew her well enough to know her tell when lying.

So now here she stood while So High by Doja Cat played, next to Rutger in a game of beer pong against a couple of the Football boys, in a dress that she felt was too short. But was complimenting her figure so good per Rutger's girlfriend.

She was tipsy, but not drunk. She really didn't feel like throwing up tonight, better yet not having to deal with being hungover the next morning. It was enough of a buzz that she was able to feel at ease, and let loose for the night.

Rutger pulled her in for a hug as they cheered, her sinking the Football guys' last cup watching as they chugged it down.

Y/n a sip of her own drink, Rutger saying he was going to take a break and dance with his girlfriend, Y/n nodding and shooing him away to go be with her.

The girl made her way through the crowd after she finished making another drink, the crowd dancing as if in slow motion with the colored lights flashing around.

As she took a sip of her drink, she stopped in her tracks seeing the familiar boy she had been avoiding.

He was dancing up against his girlfriend, the girl basically grinding all over him as he kissed her neck. One hand gripping the underside of her breast while the other stayed glued lowly on her hip.

Y/n rolled her eyes, feeling the bile in her throat as she looked around the room to find someone. She thought it would be better to try getting over Ethan, by getting under someone else.

The crowd cheered as Rude Boy by Rihanna began to blare through the speakers, her lips turning up into a smirk. Y/n downed the rest of her drink and set her cup down on a nearby table, her eyes finding a familiar pair of blonde, curly hair.

"Hughes," she calls over the music, his head snapping over and down to her with a smile. "What's goin on little y/n/n?" he says back.

He was leaning against a doorway while talking another buddy of his, she held her hands out for him. "Come dance with me Luke," she challenges, his eyes scanning her figure as he bit his lip. Luke hands his cup to his buddy, immediately sliding his hands into her own, watching her lips move and sing along to the lyrics of the song.

They found a spot in the crowd, her eyes still locked on his. Sure Luke was attractive, everything about him was. Which is why she didn't mind how it felt dancing up close with him.

His hands slid away from hers, the girl turning around so her back was up against his chest while his hands found home on her hips.

Her hands slid up over her stomach, to her waist, over her own breasts before finally reaching behind her and sliding them into Luke's hair. The pair swayed together to the music as she sang along to the lyrics, Luke's head falling to the crook between her neck and collarbone.

Luke was tall, only a had a couple inches on Ethan, but still pretty tall nonetheless. His head fell over her collarbone fully, his lips finding a spot right on the bone that made her sigh deeply and grip his hair tightly.

Her eyes began to search in the crowd for the familiar brunette, stopping when she found him with his girlfriend still in their same position.

His eyes, though, staring into her own. Y/n knew she had him in a trance now. Her lips still singing along to the lyrics.

But that's when something else snapped in her. Her eyes leaving Ethan's and looking back down to the boy who was breathing heavily into her neck.

"Lu," she breathes, the boy humming and squeezing her hips as an answer. "I need you to help me out." she admits and he nods, his eyes finding hers for a second. He watches her eye dart towards the brunette and his own girl, Luke's eyes slowly fading over to Ethan and the blonde.

Luke's chin sat softly on her shoulder as they still danced against one another. The boys stared back at one another, Ethan's eyes looking into his best friend's with warning, as if daring Luke to test him.

Luke was always one to help stir the pot if it needed to be. Especially when he knew how both y/n and Ethan felt about each other, but danced around it for many reasons.

So of course when Ethan gave him those eyes, Luke's mind was more than happy to push his best bud past his limits.

Y/n's stayed on Luke's side profile while he stared at Ethan with a smirk blooming onto his face. As they swayed, the bridge to the song came in and Luke's hands began to move. One hand slithered its way to y/n's throat and gripped lightly, causing her to sigh at his touch.

The other hand slithered up too, but stopping on her left breast, squeezing and toying with it over her dress. The feeling of Luke's hands in the right spots made y/n's head rolled back onto his shoulder as she let out a sigh mixed with a breathless moan.

She knew Luke was still staring back at Ethan, who still held eye contact with him as well, Ethan's nostrils flaring.

Luke's eyes broke their stare a moment later, finding home on the soft spot in the crook of her neck he found earlier. Ethan watched y/n's chest heaving up and down as his best friend touched her and kissed her like that.

"Shit, Lu," she sighs into Luke's ear. She could feel him poke her backside as they ground against one another. "Who knew you knew what you were doing." she chuckles breathlessly, earning a hum from the curly headed boy.

"Gotta do what I gotta do to pull his head out of his ass, huh?" he says back to her, his head lifting up to stare back at her.

His hand left her throat, and began to slide down her waist, her hips, to her thighs, his hand moving towards her inner thigh and sliding back up slowly.

Her breathing was starting to become messy as he got closer to where she was dying to be touched. Whether it was Luke or Ethan, in which she hoped Ethan would be the one to do it, but wasn't complaining when Luke knew how to push her own buttons.

Before Luke could finally reach where she desperately needed it, she was snagged from his arms and thrown over a shoulder.

She looked back up to see Luke standing there, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he saluted to her. She smirked at him in amusement, knowing exactly whose shoulder she was over.

Y/n was taken up the staircase and into the familiar brunette's room, the door shutting and locking behind them.

Ethan set y/n down on her feet once they were in his room, the girl’s eyebrows scrunched up in a frown. That frown changed when she saw his facial expression.

She couldn’t pinpoint all the emotions running through his mind, but the ones she could see were anger, sadness, annoyance.

Lust.

His anger was what she could see the most running through his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “Did you need something?” She retorts, testing the waters that were already running high. Ethan scoffs down at her, his arms being thrown up in anger at her. “You’re fucking with me right?” He snaps, making her shake her head at his tone.

“I’m not doing this,” she chuckles bitterly, trying to walk past him but he grabs her arm. “Of course you won’t. You haven’t wanted to in weeks! I don’t hear shit from you, and the next thing I know I'm watching both of my best friends all up on one another? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Y/n lets her tongue run over her teeth, not daring to make eye contact with him. She might’ve been buzzed, but she was not drunk. She was sober enough to be aware of her surroundings, but so aware of them that she was holding back her actions. Because liquid courage was surely a thing right now, and she could not hold back much longer.

“Hello? You gonna answer me y/n/n?” He says in a short tone, making her snap out of her trance.

She could hear Rutger’s voice downstairs saying fifteen seconds till midnight, y/n really wanting to get out of there before she couldn’t control herself anymore.

All these feelings have been building up, her avoiding him not helping her case. Actually made it worse, because of the way her body and mind craved his presence and touch.

“I can’t right now, Ethan.” She musters out, not making eye contact as she says it. Ethan frowns at her, confusion setting in. “Do what?” He asks. She shakes her head at him, the boy watching as she swallows hard, her chest heaving.

“Ethan,” she says, her tone was one he had only a few times. It was a warning tone. She still wasn’t looking at him in the eyes. The sound of everyone downstairs counting down till midnight and the music blaring being heard. “You should really get down there,” she says and motions to the door. “Your girl will be wondering where you are at midnight.”

Ethan storms up to her, annoyed that she won’t even acknowledge him or look at him.

“Look at me,” he says, his tone stern as he grabs her jaw softly but enough to force her to look at him. Her eyes catch his, he sees that she’s got a certain emotion running through them.

“What’s going on, y/n?” He mutters to her softly this time. "Why won't you talk to me? What did I do?" he pushes, watching as the gears turn in her mind.

He watches her lip quiver, soon biting it to hide the way it shook. It shouldn't have made him feel a way, but it did. He wanted to be the one biting that lip. Let alone taking away the pain he could see in her eyes.

Y/n rolls her eyes as the crowd yells out ‘one’ followed by a ‘happy new year’. She looks back at him, still staying silent. He says her name one last time sternly.

“Y/n.”

“Goddammit Eddy.” she snaps before her hand wraps around his neck, pulling him in for his lips to finally slam onto her own.

He didn’t take any time to process what was going on, just instantly kissing her back with just as much passion as she did. His hand going to both sides of her head, their lips moving in sync.

The way his lips felt on hers was nothing like she's ever imagined. They felt like they belonged on her own. What caught her off guard the most, was the fact that he didn't even hesitate to kiss her back.

That's when she realized he felt the same way she did. The attraction was there.

His tongue grazed hers, making his hand slide down and grip her backside. When her mouth opened in a gasp, he slid his tongue inside to let it massage hers.

Her soft moans were like music to his ears, his hands roaming anywhere and everywhere. He wanted to hear them over and over again. It was him making her make those noises. Not Luke. His lips left her own and trailed down her neck, stopping on the same spot that Luke's had once been on. Y/n didn't think it could feel any better, but Ethan made it feel insatiable.

Her hands ran through his hair as his hands roamed wherever they could reach, her gasps and breathless moans going into his broad shoulder. But as he kissed along her entire chest, her conscience came creeping in.

"Ethan," she sighs, the boy's hands raising the hem of her dress slightly, gripping her thighs trying to get her as close as he could in that moment. All that was on his mind was her. She tried his name once again, the brunette still not answering her as he searched for her lips to shush her.

"Ethan hold on," she says in between their kisses. He whimpers in her mouth, making her feel so incredibly weak. She wanted to cave so bad. Wanted to give him all of her. Let him have his way with her, and her with him.

But she couldn't. She couldn't do that.

"Your girlfriend, Eddy." she mutters as she pulls away, putting her hand on his chest. They're both breathless, Ethan going in one last time, teeth going down to drag out her bottom lip which earned a moan from her mouth.

He takes a moment with her, chests heaving against one another.

"You stay here," he whispers, his hands coming up to squeeze her waist.

She just hums with a slight nod. "I'll be back." he says, placing one last kiss on her lips, leaving her in the middle of his room in a disheveled state.

He didn't return that night.

She's where you're waking up, she's got you making up such pretty boy excuses

Oh but I know one thing, she can't stop it happening in my mind

It had been two weeks since the New Years incident. Two weeks since y/n and Ethan had shared that moment in his room. Two weeks since he left you there, only to not return.

He had been the one avoiding her now. But in this case, not under his own choices.

Every time y/n showed up to the Hockey house, she was there. Every time y/n went to a home game, she was sitting in your spot, going to see him at the tunnel instead of y/n.

When she'd text him to meet, he'd say the same things.

E :)

I can't today, I'm trying to focus. I've got a lot going on rn.

E :)

I wish I could, but I've got some stuff going on with the boys.

E :)

I would say yes, but the gf and I have plans tonight!

She knew it wasn't him making the choices, or sending those texts. He always dropped whatever he was doing to see y/n, to be with her.

The boys would've invited her to come with for one, and for two she had planned on seeing some of the guys that night. So y/n knew it was a lie from him.

The classes y/n had with Ethan and the boys was what made it more obvious. He always made up an excuse as to why his girlfriend needed him to sit with her. Or she would already be sitting in y/n's spot, so she'd find somewhere in the back to sit.

Y/n's heart began to ache. She knew deep down that it wouldn't have just happened so easily between them two, and that she couldn't stop him from making that choice. It just hurt because she should've composed herself better that night, then maybe they would've turned out being back to normal at this point.

Y/n sat in the library with Rutger's girlfriend, the pair doing homework in one of the study hall rooms. Y/n had been zoned out, her eyes locked on Ethan and his girlfriend, whom sat outside in the main study hall area talking all happily with one another.

It should be her he is sat with. Them two laughing at some stupid joke Ethan tried making about classes or the assignment at hand. It should've been her getting the quick kisses stolen in between work.

"You really need to get better at hiding your emotions, y/n/n," Rutger's girlfriend says.

Y/n snapping out of her trance and looking up at the girl whom had the whiteboard marker in one hand, the other on her hip with an unfazed look on her face.

"What emotion? I'm fine." Y/n says, her tone squeaky and uneven.

"Yeah and I'm a hockey wag," the blonde girl jokes, making y/n shrug.

"Technically speaking, you are. Unofficially," she pushes, nearly dodging the marker thrown her way.

"Not the point!" the girl laughs, y/n smiling at her comment.

She comes and sits next to y/n, sighing as she sees what her friend was witnessing. Then turns back to look at her a few moments later.

"What happened on New Years?" she asked, watching her friend pale and look at her lap.

"You cannot say a word," y/n says. "I won't-"

"Not even to Rutger."

"Damn that bad huh?"

Y/n nods. "We kind of sort of," she trails off. "madeoutinhisroomandIhadtobetheonetostopitfromgoingfurther"

The blonde looked at her like she had two heads. "I cannot decipher your fast speaking tone, so slow it down for me thank you."

Y/n sighs. "We made out in his room, and I was the one who had to try and stop it. Because if I didn't, we would've kept going." she admits, watching her friends eyes light up.

"I was wondering why he looked so dazed and why his lips were swollen when he came back." she says in a knowing manner.

"Seriously, you cannot say a word! He didn't even come back to me that night, so it means nothing." y/n says as she closes her books, packing up her stuff.

"Girl, he didn't come back because his girlfriend knew something was up."

"I kind of figured with how she's been about me lately."

"Yeah trust me, everyone has noticed." y/n threw the whiteboard marker back at her friend who laughed.

"Don't stress about it seriously. She is just jealous of what you guys have," she explains as they begin to leave the room. "I'm not one to be for cheating, trust me. But with how she treats all of us behind the scenes, I'd say your secret would be safe with me."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding Ethan once again. "Yeah well," He must've felt someone staring because his eyes look up from the platinum blonde girl next to him, smile dropping when he finds the familiar girl's stare.

"He can count his day because he's breaking my heart doing it." The two girls then walk away, Y/n's eyes leaving Ethan's.

His eyes following her still as she left the hall.

She's got you right now, but I'm still on your mind

#ethan edwards x reader #angst #Ethan Edwards angst #Luke hughes #Ethan Edwards imagines #y/n #hockey boys #college au

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biblomaniac · 2 months

Text

Supercorp headcanon:

Kara is ready to combust.

Everyday this week has been complete torment, but in a delicious way.

On Sunday, Lena wore an A-line floral dress to a brunch The Foundation hosted to promote its new Girls in STEM program.

On Monday, Lena showed up to CatCo for lunch with Kara in black slacks and a waistcoat, with a deep purple silk blouse underneath. Kara had to restrain herself from running her hand up and down the back of Lena’s blouse during their customary hug of greeting.

On Tuesday, the forest green dress Lena wore hugged her curves so well Kara couldn’t help but stare everytime she caught a glance of it across the room.

On Wednesday, a Hellgrammite started a fire in the business district that required the Superfriends help. J’onn, Lena, and Brainy stayed at the Tower as support for Supergirl, Dreamer, Sentinel, and Guardian. Four hours after the initial emergency alert, Supergirl flew into the tower through the balcony. She couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and maybe order some Chinese for dinner. But first, she had to write a debrief of her final saves from the day.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?”

“Lena, hi! I’m almost—“ Kara starts to answer, but abruptly stops when she looks to the side and is eye level with Lena’s chest. “—done.”

The blue low-cut blouse Lena is sporting has left a considerable amount of cleavage exposed. Kara’s heart thunders, her face flushes, and her hand’s clench tightly to keep from reaching out to Lena. Unfortunately, the table under her grip isn’t prepared for the brunt of Kara’s Kryptonian strength, leaving two holes of twisted metal.

“…Oops.”

On Thursday, when Kara got to Lena’s penthouse, she found Lena snuggled on the couch in her National City University sweatshirt. The shirt was at least two sizes too large on Lena, giving it an oversized look. Kara’s eyes zeroed in on long, pale legs when Lena stood to greet the blonde with a hug.

After their hug, Lena moved into the Kitchen to gather snacks for their movie night. Without her heels, Lena had to tip toe to reach the Oreos on the second shelf.

“Darling, I can’t reach,” Lena huffed. When Kara turned to help, all the blood rushed to her head when she saw the former CEO’s nearly nonexistent short’s patterned with Supergirls crest.

Kara crossed the room on wobbly legs, reaching over the brunettes head to grab the Oreos, crackers, tea, and anything else from the top shelf Lena may need. If she takes a moment to glance down at her crest running along Lena’s ass and hips, well, she’ll just keep that little secret to herself.

On Friday, Lena wore black leggings and a soft white sweater to game night. Lena looked so soft and docile with her hair down, minimal makeup, and fuzzy socks. Kara couldn’t help but tuck her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her sweet scent during their hug.

“Are you okay, darling,” Lena quietly asked as she moved one hand to cradle Kara’s head closer, while the other clutched onto strong broad shoulders.

“Fine, I’m fine. I just missed you.” Kara admitted.

“We saw each other last night, Kara.” Lena chuckled, moving to release Kara. The blonde wasn’t ready to let go, but did so anyway. Dropping her arms from Lena’s waist, Kara grabbed her hand and leading Lena to their favorite spot for game night.

On Saturday, it all finally comes to a head. The whole gang is out at Al’s Bar, enjoying the first night they’ve all been able to meet in what feels like years.

Lena looks stunning, dressed down in tight black ripped skinny jeans, a red crop top, brown leather jacket and black pumps. Their table had been crowded, and Lena made the executive decision to sit in Kara’s lap to “save space” for M’gann, who would be joining their group after her shift.

The drinks had been flowing steady all night, leaving everyone at least a bit tipsy. Kara had even indulged herself with an Aldebaran Rum and Coke. She sips slowly, remembering how it felt to be drunk the last time she had this drink. Lena’s proximity plus the alcohol is a heady combination.

By the time Kara is halfway through her drink, her left arm has snaked across Lena’s stomach, open palm holding the brunette close to her chest, while her right hand alternates between Lena’s thigh and her cup. Kara is hardly paying attention to the conversation, focused mainly on how close Lena is, how her hair smells like vanilla and honey, or how her heartbeat sounds strong and steady.

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

Ugh, Andrea. It’s not that Kara dislikes her former boss, per se. The blonde just prefers that Kara and Lena time is not interrupted.

All week, Andrea has been popping up wherever Lena is. She stuck to Lena’s side during the entire Sunday brunch; called Lena for a meeting in the middle of Monday’s lunch date; was present for every single round Lena walked after Tuesday’s press conference; popped into the tower after Acrata helped with the fire on Wednesday; Thursdays movie night was interrupted when Andrea texted Lena about a “fashion emergency,” regarding a dinner she was going to; Andrea came halfway through game night on Friday, stealing Lena as her game partner and leaving Kara to third-wheel Alex and Kelly for the rest of the night.

Kara watches as Lena and Andrea move through the crowd of bodies to find a spot to dance in.

“You should just ask her out,” Alex leans over the the table to whisper-shout, her fourth beer clutched in her hand.

“Who?” Kara asks, trying hard to seem nonchalant.

“Lena, you dolt. We can all see clear as day how you two feel about each other. Put your big girls pants on and talk to her!”

“I don’t—I can’t, Alex. What if she rejects me? Our friendship just recovered, I can’t risk it asking for something I don’t deserve,” she laments, circling the rim of her glass with her finger.

“What about what Lena deserves? She cares about you, Kara. It’s been years of you two dancing around this thing.” Alex says.

“We aren’t dancing around anything, Al. She won’t want me, she doesn’t—“ the rest of her words die in her mouth as she catches a glance of Lena and Andrea on the dance floor. Lena’s back is pressed to Andrea’s front as the move to the beat of the music. When the song changes, Lena turns in Andrea’s grasp, standing chest to chest.

The glass in Kara’s grip shatters, spraying glass across the table. Thankfully, Kara’s cup was nearly empty.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll clean this up,” Kara said, using multiple napkins to collect the shards of glass.

Alex laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “Kara, stop being a wimp and talk to her before Andrea asks her out again.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right. I can do this, I got this.” Kara nods her head determinedly, chugs what remains of Alex’s beer and stands to make her way to Lena. As she navigates her way toward her hearts desire, she see’s Andrea’s hand lowering from its position on Lena’s back to rest on her ass. All conscious thought leaves Kara’s head as she quickens her pace just short of SuperSpeed to reach Lena.

“Lee—“

***************************************************

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

“Drea, what are you doing?” Lena’s asks as she follows Andrea out to the floor.

“I’m helping you, Lena. If we get Kara jealous, she’ll stop acting like such a Girl Scout and finally make a move,” Andrea says, waving off Lena’s concern.

Lena stops walking and starts swaying at Andrea’s insistence, matching her moves seamlessly. It feels just like boarding school, with Andrea leading Lena by the hips. “I don’t know, Drea. You’ve been interfering all week and she hasn’t said so much as a peep. I don’t think she has feelings for me.”

“Joder, las dos son tan despistadas. She will! She has been jealous all week! We just have to step up our game,” Andrea exclaims in exasperation, turning Lena so that the brunettes back rests against her chest.

“Look at her, she’s glaring right at us! When the song changes, I’ll grab your ass and this will all be over,” Andrea laughs.

“Andrea! This is ridiculous. What does Sam think about this whole situation; shouldn’t you be worried about what she’ll say?”

“What’s between Samantha and I is none of your concern, Corazón. But if you must know, she told me, and I quote, “I hope it works so Kara can grow a pair—“

“Hey!”

“—I’m sure she won’t be bothered by what means I use to help you both along.”

“You know what? Fine, whatever. When it doesn’t work I don’t ever want to talk about this to either of you ever again.” Lena mutters, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to call a quits to their plan.

“I reserve the right to tease you both when it does,” Andrea replies, turning Lena around at the song change and moving one hand to grasp Lena at the ass.

“Kara’s coming; I told you this would work! Play cool,” Andrea says.

As Kara closes the final distance, she reaches a hand out to Lena, touching her on the shoulder, intent to end whatever this is between her and Andrea.

“Lee, mind if I cut in,” Kara asks sharply. Lena gives Andrea a glance, dismissing her wordlessly as she accepts Kara’s hand.

“I’m gonna step outside to take a call. Lena, call me later if you want to…talk,” Andrea imparts with a sly smile before moving to exit the bar. Kara glares daggers at Andrea’s retreating form.

“Hi, darling. How are you?” Lena asks, watching Kara’s face transform from a scowl to a happy grin.

“Better now that you’re with me,” Kara says pulling Lena closer by the waist. That Aldebaran rum may have given her a bit of confidence, but she won’t do anything Lena doesn’t want. “Is this okay?”

“Of course, darling. Are you okay; you looked a bit frazzled when you came over.” Lena wraps her arms over broad shoulders, admiring Kara’s beauty as they slowly grow closer to one another.

“Yes, yes. I was just a bit nervous, I guess.” Kara ducks her head at the admission, blushing.

Nervous? Odd. Kara may not be as outwardly imposing as Supergirl, but she is hardly nervous since her reveal to the world as being Supergirl. The synergy of Kara Zor-El encompasses both Kara Dancers and Supergirl, but without the necessity to hide behind one mask or the other.

Lena can’t hide the surprise in her voice, “What do you have to be nervous about?”

“I just—I want to be Andrea—“

“You want to be Andrea?!”

It seems the rum has also compromised her ability to articulate clearly.

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I want to be in her place with you. I’ve been…jealous. She’s interrupted our time together everyday and just now she was…” Kara bites her lip, turning her head to look away.

Lena bends to the side, trying but failing to catch Kara’s gaze.

“She was what, Kara. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Kara is jealous. It almost seems too good to be true. Maybe Andrea’s plan will work after all.

Kara lifts her head, piercing blue eyes gazing into Lena’s own. “She was touching you! Holding you! I don’t want her to do that, Lena. I want, I want to do that.” Kara states with conviction, voice hardening determinately.

Kara thinks she’s overstepped when Lenas arms loosen from around her neck. She prepares to apologize, heart breaking at the thought of Lena turning her down. That is, until Lena reaches for her hands, dragging them from their purchase on her hips to rest just above her ass.

“You want to hold me like this?” Lena whispers, head tilted and pupils dilating. “You can Kara, you can touch me however you want.”

The blonde moves her hands down tentatively, looking for any signs of unease. “When she doesn’t find any, she palms at Lena’s ass, pulling her forward and holding tight. “This okay?”

“Perfect, darling; keep going.” Lena noses at Kara’s neck, interested to see how far this will go.

Kara starts to dance, leading Lena along to the thumping beat. She feels a new kind of thrill, so unlike the one she gets from being Supergirl. There is a hot, pulsating feeling running through her veins.

The superhero tilts her head down to lay a kiss on Lena’s temple. “This okay,” she asks, internally begging for Lena to want more.

“Keep going.”

Kara starts to lay soft kisses down the side of Lena’s face, hands still kneading her supple behind. When she reaches the brunettes jaw, she noses her way along the skin back up to her ear. She lays one more kiss on the shell of her ear before she whispers, “More?”

“More.” Lena says, nearly panting under Kara’s ministration.

The blonde drops her face to the crook of the shorter woman’s neck, placing a kiss on each pulse point before laying a third on the beauty mark at the center of Lena’s throat.

Lena reaches up, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of Kara’s neck, while the other holds firmly to a bulging bicep. “Keep going, darling,” Lena rasps.

Tentatively, Kara laves her tongue against the mark. At the sound of Lena’s quiet moan, Kara sucks at the mark. When she pulls away, there is a blossoming patch of red over the skin.

Kara touches her forehead lightly to Lena’s, gazing into verdant eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Kara implores, cerulean eyes glassy and wanting.

“Please,” Lena supplicates, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Without further ado, the blonde presses her mouth firmly to the red painted lips in front of her. It isn’t long before the brunettes tongue runs across her lips seeking entrance into her mouth.

*********************************************

“Did it work?”

“Of course it did, Tesoro.” Andrea answers into the phone.

“Fucking finally. I’ll call Lena in the morning and get all the dirty details. Now that that’s taken care of, when are you gonna come see me?” Sam implores.

“I thought you were coming here next weekend?”

“ I am, but Ruby’s at summer camp for the rest of the week. I thought you could come spend some time here in Metropolis before we fly to National City.”

“Well, what’s in it for me,” Andrea flirts, already looking for red eye flights out east.

“You, me, an empty apartment, and all the time in the world to do whatever we please.”

“Promise me we can do that thing I like and I’ll be there in the morning.” Andrea knows she’s pushing her luck, but there’s nothing sweeter than a little pain with pleasure.

“Oh, baby, we can do whatever you want—” Samantha starts, voice sickly sweet, “—if you get here before dawn,” she finishes, voice low and demanding.

“Done.”

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara zorel #supergirl #kara danvers #kara x lena #first kiss #headcanon #pining #jealousy #andrea rojas #samantha arias #rojarias

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smutoperator · 6 months

Text

Bunny Wants Carrot

Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Tags: aegyo, (a little) armpit fucking, breeding kink, costume, couch sex, crazy riding, creampie, daddy kink, deepthroating, easter, high heels, lube, multiple orgasms, object insertion, slippery, sloppy blowjob, squirting, thong

Word count: 5023

Your Easter hasn't really been very enjoyable. Away from home for business in Korea, without your family to celebrate, it just seemed like you were going to have the worst holiday possible. You woke up tired and just wanted to go home as soon as possible, leaving the apartment the company you work for rented for you in Seoul to get some fresh air and leaving the door wide open in the process because you just didn't care anymore about it.

As you returned to it, you found a beautiful, tall, and young girl inside it, placing some little Easter eggs along the furniture and jumping up and down on high heels wearing a skimpy rabbit costume that fully displayed her perfect long legs and her skinny body.

"Who are you?" you asked, baffled by the scene you had just watched, seeing that tall girl bending over and wiggling her bunny "tail" and taking some eggs from her basket to place all over your apartment. Her thong was so small, you could see the lips of her pink pussy popping out of it already.

"I'm Jang Wonyoung, but for today, you can call me Cherry," she replied in perfect English to you, making you wonder how she even knew you spoke the language. "I'm just a young Easter bunny searching for something on this special day," she continued.

"Get out of my..." You couldn't even finish the sentence. "Shhhh," Wonyoung said. "I'm not getting out; you've got something I want," she continued, pushing you forward until she shoved your body into the couch. For such a skinny girl, she was really strong.

"What do you want?" you asked, still confused as Wonyoung got on her knees and ran her hands on your already exposed torso, giving you a kiss shortly after, before moving down and repeating the move on your crotch area. "You know there is that myth that bunnies like carrots," she said. "Well, that's actually true for me. But I like a different kind of carrot," Wonyoung continued. "One that can get hard even on cold days like today, like the one you've got between your legs, daddy," she kept going, pulling your underwear down and unveling your throbbing morning wood.

Wonyoung got wowed by the size of your cock, her eyes getting bright in a snap once she saw it, her face making devilish and naughty expressions already. "Nice carrot you got up there, Daddy. Don't you want to feed it to a needy, hungry bunny like me?" she asked. You were still asleep and confused by what was going on, but on a shitty day like today, you wouldn't say no to a free blowjob by a stranger.

Wonyoung pulled your undies down a bit and grabbed your shaft, giving you a sexy stare. As she just put the tip in her mouth, you already knew you would be in for a long ride, as her little, sloppy spits and warm mouth already had your tip throbbing.

"Damn, that's so good. For how long have you been doing this?" you asked out of curiosity. "Not much, daddy; I'm only 19, but I'm a very quick learner," she said, bragging about her cock-sucking skills. And indeed, you could attest that Wonyoung was a blowjob prodigy at such a young age, as she was already sucking the soul out of your cock with just a few licks.

Wonyoung started running her tongue over your shaft, paying special attention to the tip. You groaned and held your breath, as, despite being a total stranger, she seemed to already know which spots of your dick were the most sensitive. She followed it with a sloppy tip-sucking, putting not even a third of your cock in her mouth and slowly teasing you, increasing the pace as she turned the top third of your shaft wet, later adding her hands to jerk it off. It was truly the loudest blowjob a girl had ever given you, as Wonyoung got noisy every time her throat touched any part of your cock.

Wonyoung fully takes your underwear off, giving you a big smile as she gets on all fours and throats your cock harder, this time going halfway in and increasing the speed of her jerkoffs. You can't resist anymore and start to push up, trying to fuck her doll-esque face. Little do you know, this is the favorite move of everyone who gets to have their cocks inside her mouth, so she's already extremely prepared for it and barely flinches, just tucking her hair a little and closing her eyes as she loves that tip hitting the palate of her mouth.

As a matter of fact, after a while, Wonyoung bobs her head down your cock faster than you can up her mouth. As you make her gag, she gets even crazier, attacking your cock at full speed as her pussy is already dripping wet and she jiggles her little bunny tail. "Ohhhhh. Shitttt," you give an enlongated groan even though she has barely taken your cock deep into her throat yet, moving instead to lick your shaft sideways.

"Oh fuck, I can't take it," you say as soon as Wonyoung gives you the first deepthroat. A little precum flows out of your cock, and you wonder how you just didn't blow your whole load at that point already. You start counting to 10, but once the count reaches zero, you have to reset and do it all over again, as Wonyoung stays with your sword stuck deep in her throat for a good 20 seconds before she finally gags. "Holy shit, it's a magic bunny," you say, praising her insane cock-sucking powers.

You pray to God to rescue you on the day he resurrected, but he won't answer your prayers. You'll be going straight to hell for daring to get your cock sucked by a bunny that came out of nowhere to drain your balls. And the more you pray, the harder Wonyoung moves, craving that long, hard carrot up her mouth as she gets increasingly louder.

"Oh shit," you say as Wonyoung starts kissing and licking your shaft frenetically and gives you a begging stare before going back to attack your tip while twisting your cock with both hands. Your left leg starts to tremble as Wonyoung savors that carrot nonstop. "Hmmm, hmmmm, hmmm," she moans between all that insane sucking of hers.

Wonyoung bounces her ass up and down, perhaps teasing you about something as she now finally takes your cock full length in her mouth. Her pussy lips are already throbbing, as they are right between the strings of her white bunny thong. You dunk Wonyoung's head on your cock, wanting her to deepthroat it forever even as your groans get more frequent and louder. She's truly a master of deepthroating; no matter the size of a cock, it all disappears under her perfect mouth.

"Can I see those titties?" you ask Wonyoung as soon as she finishes the blowjob. "Of course, daddy," she says, pushing the straps of her bunny lingerie to the side and showing her perky little tits. You really enjoy how soft they are and how you can cover them fully on your hands as you grab them by the bottom and lower your head to suck them off, starting with Wonyoung's right boob.

"Whoooa!" Wonyoung moans as you put your mouth on her tits, reaching under her panties to start masturbating herself. That incites your curiosity as you pull her thong to the side to finally see what her perfect pull looks like, with her dangling lips already ready to take your cock inside it. Wonyoung lets out an Aegyo-esque moan as you do it before asking. "How bad do you want to get inside this little pussy, Daddy?" "Very bad," you say as you softly place your hands on it and make Wonyoung feel like she has ascended to the heavens with just that little touch.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ohhhh," Wonyoung moans as you two get the perfect chemistry and world fully in sync, your right hand touching her pussy while her right hand still masturbates your cock. She starts moving up and down with her body and closes her eyes, dreaming of sitting on your dick as soon as possible. But first, she has to survive your fingers working all over her wet cunt, turning the floor her high heels step on very slippery and dangerous.

Wonyoung moans get more childish as you increase the pace of fingering her clit, with her responding in the same manner with your cock. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moans as her pussy keeps squirting all over your hands and her little boobs get bouncier. "Daddy makes this baby bunny cum so good," she says, turning her head and looking back at you as she gives you a kiss.

"Wait, daddy, what are you doing? It's already very slippery down here," Wonyoung says as you pick up a bottle of lube from her egg case and pour most of it on her tits and armpits, then move down and pour the rest of it in her belly and pussy. "Oh, I like that daddy," she said as you started rubbing her tits and getting them shinier before going back down to her pussy and making her squirt further on the floor, which led her to start to bounce out of excitement.

You place your cock between her bra straps and start fucking her clean armpits while also touching her tits as she slaps your cock in them. "Daddy likes those pits and titties?" she asks. "Yes, I do, but I like that pink pussy better; I want you to sit it down that cock, please," you told her.

"Yes, daddy, as you wish, baby bunny will sit in that carrot and ride it as you please," Wonyoung replied, shaking her "tail" as her cunt was already dripping before even going down that cock. "Give me that pussy," you commanded her. "Daddy is really impatient; let baby Bunny work on that cock a little bit more," Wonyoung replied as she still twisted your shaft and prepared it for penetration.

Wonyoung advanced a couple steps and sat on your cock at once, spreading her long legs. "OHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDD," she moaned as your full length impaled her pink pussy, but quickly settled down and started violently bouncing on it. "Fuck, daddy, that big cock is so perfect for my tiny little pussy," she said, moaning louder at each bounce, with no caution whatsoever to wake up your neighbors on this sacred holiday.

You were really impressed at the speed at which Wonyoung rode your cock, and she was doing it in full motion, going all the way up before smashing it all the way back down. "Those young girls are already full-fledged sluts by the time they turn 18, aren't they?" you thought to yourself, and yes, that was definitely the case with Wonyoung, as she kept giving you aegyo-esque moans each time she finished a bouncing move on that big dick.

"I'm a baddie for Daddy, ah, ah, ah, ah, ummmmmm," Wonyoung said between more moans as she kept smashing your cock nonstop; her appetite just seemed endless. One carrot was just not enough for that hungry bunny, but she would take it regardless.

Wonyoung started rotating on your cock, adding even more pressure as her vaginal walls smashed your shaft from all angles. You quickly found yourself regretting your words. If Wonyoung's blowjob was already tough to handle, her riding was 10 times harder to resist, as her pussy was extremely tight and wet, and she knew how to use it even better.

Wonyoung just twisted your cock like a little toy, gyrating on it while bouncing mid-air. At that point, you had already outlasted most men when they got inside her, as 95% of them were done after just a minute. Once she stopped, she sat on your cock so hard that it felt like you were being smashed by the sun's gravity.

It was amazing the way her tight pussy was stretched out exactly to the size of your girth, no air going on it, the only thing filling it up being your cock and her juices. Wonyoung rode you so hard that she went too high in the air, which led to your cock popping out. To make up for that mistake, she descended down it as soon as possible and engulfed your sword balls deep back in her cunt, holding them inside her in that position for a good minute before resuming her crazy ride.

The string on Wonyoung's thong hit your shaft right by the side, increasing the friction on your cock. Wonyoung laughs as she tilts her body sideways and keeps bouncing, ripping your cock apart like it's nothing. She goes so fast that that her bunny ears fall off her head, forcing her to put it back on, giving you the opportunity you needed to push her close and pump up her pussy. Too bad you get too thristy and your cock ends up sliding out of her hole, allowing Wonyoung to recover and just get back to her usual insane riding, clapping her cheeks even harder each time she descends down that dick.

"YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. YEAH," Wonyoung says in perfect sync every time her pussy reaches the bottom of your shaft, doing this for a couple minutes before you make her stop. "Shhh, you're getting too loud," you tell her. "Sorry, daddy, your cock is too good; I want it all," she replies as you push up her pussy and she places her hands in her ass.

"Fuck, you're such a loud, bouncy bunny," you tell her as Wonyoung now rides you with her high heels stomping the floor, causing an earthquake in the neighbor's apartment below yours. Wonyoung tries to mitigate the noise while still riding by putting her long legs up and placing her heels on your couch, but that ends up being too much for them, as her heels end up breaking after such an intense ride, forcing her to remove them, as much as she always wants the heels to stay on during sex.

You push Wonyoung's thong even further to the side as she takes her broken high heels off, pointing your fully erected cock right at her cunt entrance for her to sit again. Wonyoung does so, but this time in reverse, fully spreading her legs and moving sideways as soon as she reaches the bottom of your shaft. Your hands reach up top and grab her perky tits from behind. "Fuck, those tits are so soft and that pussy so tight," you tell her. "Glad you like it, daddy," she replies as she goes back to smashing your cock, closing her eyes as she gets impaled even harder than during the first time.

Wonyoung keeps trying to find ways to give her bounce and extra spice, tilting her body in any way possible to let your cock reach new places inside her walls, leading to a lot of pleasure for herself. "Fuck," you groan as she starts doing such things, finally reaching her G-spot as she tilts your cock slightly towards the left side of her pussy and rotates on it to let it hit in different ways. Wonyoung then puts both hands on her little bouncy tits and adds lube all over her body, making it extremely slippery.

"AHHHH. AHHHHH. FUCK ME, DADDY," she says as she gets close to cum and loses control of her tits, then moves to her right side and sits on your cock completely sideways, which leads to her finally unlocking her orgasm as her bunny ears fall off once again.

"Wiggle that tail for me," you tell her as she cums all over your cock, taking advantage of her weakness as she just finished cumming to pound Wonyoung hard, making her already sensitve pussy ache even further. "DADDY, DON'T STOP, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, AHHHHH!" she screams as her eyes roll and lots of squirt come out of her pussy.

Without even pulling out, you push Wonyoung closer to the couch, putting her in a spooning position, pumping and fingering her pussy at the same time while her right leg stays fully up in the air. You pull out a couple times to tease her throbbing clit with your shaft before going back in harder each time. "OH FUCK, KEEP GOING, DADDY," she screams, even as if she's this close to falling out of the couch.

But Wonyoung is no pushover and starts riding your cock even in a submissive position, like spooning, moving her body sideways up and down it, then teasing your cock with her well-polished nails once it slips out of her cunt, giving it a little massage with her hands, and pressing it against her entrance.

"Just like that, daddy," Wonyoung tells you in an out-of-breath way as you resume fucking her, massaging your balls as you go in and out of her pussy. "Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh," she softly moans as her thumb presses your sack hard. "Right there, right there, right there; don't stop, Daddy," she keeps guiding you. "FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM." Hearing those words leads you to go feral on her cunt, increasing the pace by a lot as you make Wonyoung orgasm for the third time in less than five minutes.

"I'M CUMMING. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Wonyoung screams as her body collapses on top of yours; her legs trembling can barely secure her from falling to the floor. You tell her not to be so loud, but it's useless. When she cums, she lets it all out, screaming and laughing as her legs now shake even harder.

You get up as Wonyoung gets on her knees to taste her cherry-flavored pussy out of your cock, grabbing it hard at the bottom and starting from the tip like usual, before licking the whole extension and taking it deep in her throat. "Fuck yes, this is so amazing," you tell her.

"Turn around, please," you tell Wonyoung. "Yes, daddy," she says, still wanting to taste more of that cock. She jiggles her ass and puts her bunny tail back in place while still keeping her pussy lips fully visible. You grab Wonyoung by her little tail and pour lube all over her butt, which makes her moan in anticipation, especially as the cold liquid drips down her legs. You spread it all over her cute butt as her holes wink, waiting for more.

"Shake that ass you slutty bunny," you tell her. Wonyoung obviously obliges; nothing she loves more than a little shake. "Shit, that pussy is so pretty," you tell her as she shows it to you while shaking and you massage her ass. "If it's so pretty, how about you put that big cock back in it, Daddy?" she asks.

"Get up on the couch," you softly tell her. Wonyoung follows. "Fuck, you've got some great legs," you praise her as she gets on all fours and turns her butt in your direction. You then tease your cock all over her entrance, pulling her tiny thong to the side and making her moan as your tip touches her needy folds, showing how much she wants it. But you keep teasing her, rubbing your shaft all over her pussy and anus, before sticking it back inside her warm cunt.

"Yeah, baby, please, daddy, give it to me," she says as you enter back inside her, and Wonyoung gives you a cute aegyo that drives you crazy. You fuck her pussy slowly, going a little deeper at each thrust before pushing your cock all the way out. You repeat it for a couple minutes, getting Wonyoung even warmer for your big cock, but as soon as you fully remove her thong, you go all-in at her pussy, showing no mercy for this teen fuckdoll.

Wonyoung starts swinging her hips in your direction as you pound her. "Oh my gosh, daddy, you're fucking this baby bunny so hard," she says. "You want it harder?" you rhetorically ask her as you hammer her wet pussy. "Yes, daddy, please, yeash, ah, ah, ah," she says as she swings all the way into your crotch before you grab her tiny waist and put her in the right place. "Then take it," you tell her as you take control of her and smash her pussy.

The clapping sound of your balls against her cunt makes Wonyoung even needier. She loves that big carrot stretching her out to the fullest, biting her own hand not to cum again as you repeatedly hit her cervix and make her eyes roll. Her facial expressions get increasingly crazy as she sticks her tongue out and licks the eggs on the basket she was once carrying, throwing them out to distract herself from the hard pounding she was taking deep in her pussy and maniacally laughing as she once again pushes her hips down to take more of that cock.

At this point, you just stopped and appreciated Wonyoung's wilingness to get that big cock as deep in her pussy as she could, letting her take control and attack your carrot as she pleased, like the hungry bunny she was. "This baddie needs daddy's cock, ahhhhhh, yeahhhh," she said in her aegyo voice, moving up and down your shaft, giving you a lot of pleasure as her walls hit it from the side.

Once Wonyoung stopped, you went even more feral. The longer you fucked her, the more you needed that tight young pussy. It had been a long time since you had fucked such a great pussy like Wonyoung's. In fact, it was probably the best cunt you had ever fucked. "Keep going, daddy; I'm a needy bunny; I want that carrot buried deep inside me," she told you, driving you even more insane and leading you to lift her leg, which made her instantly moan in pleasure. "Oh yeah, just like that, Daddy," she said.

You added extra pleasure to Wonyoung as you started fingering her pussy shortly after putting her legs up in the air. This was a moment when she was glad she was skinny because her whole weight was now on her knees. She had to hold herself while your cock and hands stimulated her to the fullest. "Oh my gosh, fuck," she squealed as you kept pumping her tight pussy and increased the speed of your fingering, forcing her to hug her own right leg just not to lose balance.

"Give that cock back to me, give that cock back to me, please, daddy, I need it," she said as you teased her, pulling it out and then going in and out of her pussy with long, deep thrusts. But even in such an acrobatic position, she could still push her body closer to yours and ride your cock sideways like the good young whore she was.

"AHHHHHHH!" Wonyoung screamed as you destroyed her tight fuckhole, rolling her eyes as you showed her no mercy. The more she kept showing you how much of a cock-crazed slut she was, the harder you fucked her. "RIGHT THERE. RIGHT THERE. RIGHT THERE, DADDY," she kept yelling as you made her little tits bounce and her lose her breath until she couldn't hold herself by just one knee anymore.

Wonyoung got herself in a fetal position as you started eating her wet pussy next, placing a pair of Easter eggs in her legs. You picked one as well and started massaging her vagina with it after spitting all over her pussy. "Put it inside me, daddy," she ordered as you gave her some shallow thrusts with the little egg, using it like a sex toy, while she held another one in her mouth to muffle her moans. You slowly inserted the egg in her cunt, making her moan a lot as she brought the one in her mouth close to yours.

You kept fucking Wonyoung with that little egg before fully pushing it deep into her pussy. Wonyoung followed suit and inserted the one she had in her hands too, handing you another egg she had just kissed for you to use to rub her clit, before pushing the ones she had inside her pussy and using a different pair to massage her clit. "You want to give this bunny some babies for me to push like that, daddy?" she asked you, licking her chops and tasting her pussy from the eggs.

"Yes, I do," you said as you got back to teasing her with your throbbing cock. Wonyoung hugged her legs and stayed in a fetal position as you put your carrot back in her babyhole. "Fuck," she cursed as soon as you penetrated her. "Oh daddy, oh daddy, please breed this baby bunny, daddy," she told you, giving you naughty and needy stares and rolling her eyes as she was now just a bystander to your cock stuffing her tight cunt.

Wonyoung licked her chops and waited as you patiently worked to fill her up as much as you could. "Oh yes, oh yes, daddy," she moaned as her walls started to clench more than ever. "It's so fucking tight," you noticed. Wonyoung clinged to your arms, as all you could think of was to flood her pussy with your cum at any moment. You had to edge yourself a lot, as she soon turned herself into a moaning mess.

"That's right, daddy, keep going," she said in between some laughs. You had to pull out, as her reactions nearly made you cum right there. But you needed more of that tight pussy, going back in as soon as you recovered. Wonyoung kept laughing, moaning, and fingering her clit, as the longer you fucked her, the tighter her pussy was getting. She even brought back the egg she used to massage before and now rubbed it on your shaft, testing you even further.

Wonyoung's walls were clenching so hard that you had to make triple the initial effort just to get halfway inside her pussy. You had to pull out once again and rub your shaft against her tight hole, having to spit on it just to get your cock back inside her.

"Please, daddy, cum inside my pussy," her childlike voice demanded of you. Getting inside her cunt now felt like your cock was being sucked into a blackhole where demons were devouring it. "Why is this shit so tight?" you pondered as Wonyoung's pussy offered increased resistance to your thrusts. To make things worse, she kept teasing your throbbing cock with that egg, making it pulsate every time she ran it up and down your shaft.

You had to push extremely hard to get back deep inside Wonyoung's pussy, but you finally got there. Now, no air would go inside that hole, just cock and nothing else, as she incessively fingered her clit in pleasure. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she moaned. Every thrust now felt like hitting a hard wall, almost as if her pussy was made of steel, but you kept pushing nonetheless.

Wonyoung kept teasing you, removing the bunny ears from her costume and placing them just around the area where you were fucking her and teasing you with it. "Keep going, daddy; look at those gates," she said, pointing to the "portal" her bunny ears were forming around her pussy. "These are the gates of heaven; all you need to do is breed this needy baby bunny," she continued.

As Wonyoung said those words, you finally managed to break her pussy's resistance and hit it balls deep. Your lengthy cock was now fully bulging under her tall, skinny body as she placed her bunny ears back in her head and closed her eyes in preparation for her imminent orgasm, increasing her fingering.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, I'm going to cum again, daddy," she says, placing her thumb in her mouth and putting her legs over her head. As you pull out to give her the final pounding, Wonyoung gets even needier. "I want it back. I want it back. Please, Daddy," she says, screaming as you pound her hard.

"It feels so good; it feels so good; don't stop, daddy," Wonyoung keeps saying as she gets naughtier and naugthier. "OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM," she yells, fastly fingering her clit and starting to orgasm, her legs trembling, her wals closing, and her mouth opening. She starts screaming hard, waking up the entire building that Easter morning. That ends up being too much for you, as you fill her pussy to the brim with your seed shortly after, groaning as hard as she screamed.

"Holy shit, look at all that cum; daddy bred baby bunny so good," she says, looking at the cum leaking out of her pussy. Wonyoung uses her bunny tail to scoop it and taste it as you tease her, getting your still hard cock in and out of her pussy a couple times. "Daddy still wants more of that pussy?" she asked. "But you already came all over it," she laughed.

Wonyoung got up: "I have to go, but here's one last gift. Happy Easter, Daddy," she said, gaping her tiny asshole and releasing a trio of mini Easter eggs from it. "Thanks for breeding me, Daddy," she said, jumping like a bunny as she left your apartment. That whole thing didn't feel real; maybe you were just dreaming this whole time.

The next day followed, and you went out to work. A pretty, tall woman seemed to chase you; her beautiful face was plastered all over many ads around Seoul. She looked very similar to the girl that appeared out of nowhere in your apartment yesterday, prompting you to ask someone.

"Hey, what's the name of that girl in the ad?" you asked.

"She's Jang Wonyoung; she's quite a famous idol in Korea," the person replied.

You just couldn't believe it.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 1 year

Text

— smoke some, drink some, pop one

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: smut, drug use, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight roughness, unnecessary euphoria references

summary: you smoke dope. vada admits she has never eaten a girl out before. a practical demonstration ensues

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this was written under the influence of a travis scott song. expect anything. enjoy

You stare at the clock hanging above the blackboard anxiously, kicking your leg under the desk. The last few minutes of the last period always seem to stretch miles into infinity, and your patience is barely as flexible. The voice of the teacher has long since become background noise, the talk of equations and trigonometry and the finals week and how unprepared you were for it the last thing on your mind.

You pick your phone up for the millionth time to look at the messages still hanging and marked as unseen on your screen, eyes focusing on Vada’s name followed by an emoji of a puppy and a black heart.

‘got us enough to roll one’

‘just one tho’

‘don’t wanna end up like last time’

You chuckle quietly – the sweet memories of you and Vada skinny dipping in a pond at night and then showing up half-naked at Nick’s door are definitely the ones you treasure most, even though you can barely piece them together.

You look out the window, lost in thought. Your teacher asks you a question – and then you're saved by the sound of the bell ringing across the building.

As soon as you hear it you’re up and all but bolting out the door, muttering a quick ‘bye’ to the teacher to maintain your good girl image that, to be honest, has been hanging by a thread ever since the day you started dating Vada.

Not that you really care about their opinion. You just don’t want the principal to call your mother again.

You speed walk through the corridor, try to remember which floor was Vada’s class on, before you’re stopped by a pair of hands wrapping around your waist.

“Hey there pretty girl.”

You squeal in surprise, turning around in your girlfriend’s arms. She’s grinning at you annoyingly, the little shit, but the small dimple on her right cheek makes it impossible to be mad at her.

“Fuck, Vada,” you huff, pinching her shoulder half-heartedly, “I’ve got a weak heart, remember?

She shrugs, leans in to kiss your pout away.

“Sorry. I got out early. Wanted to wait for you since apparently someone's not interested in answering any of my texts anymore.”

You kiss her back, smiling apologetically, “I was too excited to see you, I guess.”

The brunette hums, lacing her fingers with yours, “Where to then?”

You think about inviting her over to your place – it’s closer to school, and your mom is working till late evening, but the rationality clicks quicker. Your mom also happens to work as the district attorney of the town – you’re pretty damn sure she knows what pot smells like, and would be able to smell it hours after you and Vada have fucked beyond the common sense of ventilating the house.

So you do the next best thing, one that won’t get either of you in trouble – you hotbox in your girlfriend’s car. You realize it might soon become the best thing, because it hits so much better.

Vada gets greedy with the joint a few times – you have to remind her it’s puff puff pass, not puff puff kiss your girlfriend so she lets her guard down then puff again.

In a few minutes you’re in her lap and making out with her like it’s your last day on Earth, the two of you giggling into each other’s mouths when you accidentally press the horn with your butt a few times, the honking sound mixing with your laughter.

You can barely make Vada’s face out by the time the last of the joint fizzles out and starts to burn your fingertips, the smoke filling the car up to the brim, but her eyes stand out amidst the choking whiteness, her pupils almost heart-shaped as she watches you with a dopey grin.

When you open the door the smoke drifts up the sky in big clouds, and breathing clear oxygen almost feels weird.

You’re still giggling slightly as Vada fumbles with her pockets to find her keys, your soft lips pressing to the side of her neck in sweet pecks making the process of finding them unnecessarily hard.

She shushes you when you finally step inside, listening for any sounds, before closing the door behind you. As soon as you realize you’re alone in the house, you press your lips against Vada’s impatiently.

“Don’t forget– your shoes,” Vada manages between the kisses, shivering as you slide your hands under her oversized shirt, “I’m serious, you horndog. Mom hates it when the floors are dirty.”

You groan into her lips, pulling away to untie your Jordans, shaking on your unstable legs slightly, and make your way up the stairs into her room. Vada opens the window to let the fresh spring air sweep through the room, hoping it’ll be enough to help the smell of weed wear off your clothes and hair.

“Wanna watch a show?” She asks, gesturing to her laptop as you sit on her bed, crossing your legs.

“Mhm. You’re thinking Euphoria, aren’t you?” You snort, watching as your girlfriend slides next to you, “Because I think we’re pretty much in one.”

“So, like,” Vada trails off, her hands coming to rest on your hips in what she thinks is a subtle movement, “Would that make me Rue, then?”

She plays with a string on your pants, feeling almost embarassed about the corny things she's saying.

“And you – Jules?”

You hum, tilting your head with a coy grin, try and mull her innuendo over in your baked out mind. The comparison does seem familiar – especially with Vada’s puppy love towards you.

“Well, I liked their duo in the first season but... weren’t they, like... extremely toxic later on?”

Vada finally pulls in you to sit on her lap, your thighs bracketing hers, and it’s such close proximity you can count all the pretty freckles scattered across her face. You’d probably get lost at fifty, way too high for mathematics of any kind, even if it’s this romantic.

“You’re right. Fuck Euphoria,” she whispers, her gaze sliding to your lips, and you don’t waste any more time to press your lips to hers.

Kissing Vada has always been something to look forward to – warm and pleasant, makes your stomach flip when she’d bite your bottom lip and lick at your teeth. Kissing Vada whilst being slightly high is an out of this world feeling. Her nose presses into your cheek, and your palms slide to the back of her neck, fingers twirling her silky brown tresses idly.

You pull away for air, and it gets stuck in your throat as the brunette presses a kiss behind your ear, trailing the butterfly smooches down to your pulse point. Her hands are kept busy under your shirt, fingertips tracing up your stomach to your ribs.

“How many times have you ever been eaten out?”

A sudden but... not at all unwelcome question. You lean back on your hands, humming when her plush lips rest against your collarbone, and purse your lips in thought.

“Mm... once or twice. I don’t really keep any notches on my belt, y’know?”

Her hands tighten around your hips, and you chuckle.

“Drinking vinegar, are you now? Don’t worry. You have an opportunity to top them all.”

Vada averts her gaze suddenly. You frown, lean in to cup her face gently.

“What’s wrong?”

The brunette rubs her thumbs over your clothed thighs, then looks back up at you, a small frown on her face.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never... fucked anyone?” You're sure that's a lie – she's fucked you before.

“I’ve never given a girl head.”

You hum, reaching to hold her slightly shaky hands, slowly inching them closer to the waistband of your sweatpants, “I can teach you,” you suggest, biting your lip, “Show you what I like. That cool?”

Vada looks almost mesmerized. She nods, her gaze fixed on your pants, and you giggle as she tugs them down your legs, prompting you to slide off her lap to let her do so, the cool outside breeze hitting your warm skin and rising goosebumps in its wake.

“I listened to a podcast the other day,” she begins, “About cunnilingus. The host said the best advice she’s ever gotten was to google wielding techniques.”

You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Huh?”

Vada reaches for her phone on the bedside table, quickly unlocking it and typing something in the search bar. She selects a random picture and shows you the screen.

There are indeed blueprints of what looks like wielding seams, going from bottom to the top. The arrows are forming different patterns – there are zig-zags, crescents, a circular seam and a ‘figure 8’ seam...

For all the ridiculousness, they do seem... practical.

You smile and grab the phone, turning it off and tossing it somewhere back on the bed.

Of course she would do that – research stuff. It’s so fucking endearing it prompts you to wrap your hands around her neck and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Why not stick to the usual alphabet thing, hm?” You offer, “I can tell which letter I’d love the most.”

You lean in to whisper into her ear huskily, “It’s ‘V’.”

Vada shudders, making you smile. Then her hands grasp at your hips, tugging you closer, and your breath hitches at her sudden assertiveness.

The brunette bends her knees so that she’s level with your center and parts your legs slowly. You curse under your breath – you’re pretty much drenched right through your panties, and if Vada was just slightly more sober, she’d probably tease you about it, too. You’re glad she isn’t.

She leans in closer instead, tongue lolling out and pressing against your clothed cunt, licking a stripe up the smeared wetness there. Her fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear, and you tilt your hips up a bit to help her take it off, the movement causing your heat to press further into her mouth, making you whine.

Your panties are off, and so is Vada’s tongue.

She stares long enough for you to feel a bit conscious about yourself, and you move to close your legs on instinct, but her hands keep them apart. She hooks your ankles over her shoulders, shoots you a warning look. Her dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. The shyness and uncertainty is gone like it wasn’t even there.

You’re not sure if it’s weed, or if you’re being tricked, but this version of Vada is... new. Extremely hot, too.

She lowers herself so that she’s inches away from your pussy, her warm breath fanning your swollen clit – you're so strung up that you’re starting to feel a second heartbeat in between your legs. Vada looks up at you again, making sure you’re watching her as she flattens her tongue along your slit, collecting all the warm slick that leaked out from the moment she had you on her lap. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you sigh, hips buckling to meet her.

Despite all your confidence, you feel yourself crumble at the first touch of your girlfriend’s mouth on you – you’ve always preferred this over any kind of penetration, and Vada’s eagerness to please you doesn’t help.

She withdraws for a moment, and you find yourself missing her immediately.

“Is this okay?” She asks, palms caressing your thighs to soothe you.

“Don’t make me beg.” You breathe with a chuckle.

She laps at your folds, groaning at the saccharine warmth of your arousal coating her tongue – then leans back again, and you’re almost whining before she reaches her thumb to rub at your swollen clit, her breathing heavy as she watches you gush around nothing.

“Baby.” You whine pathetically, your knees coming together to try and push her face into you.

Vada doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, her digit circling your sensitive spot, never taking her eyes away, “Hm?”

“Please,” you murmur, voice stifled by the hot arousal burning in your veins, “Want your mouth, baby. Want to cum on your tongue, please.”

The brunette digs her fingers into the soft flesh of your hips before wrapping her plump lips around your clit, gently sucking, and your thighs tighten around her head at the sudden overwhelmingly good feeling coursing through your body. You almost can’t believe how good it feels – how good Vada is, almost naturally talented at making your toes curl as she mouths at your dripping pussy, keeping a burning grip on your quivering legs. The immense amount of pleasure is so sudden you’re practically sobbing her name, your stomach tensing and hips bucking with each calculated flick of the girl’s tongue. The sheets under you are considerably darker than the rest, a pool of your cum along with the brunette’s spit dampening the area.

You’ve heard that drugs can expand your consciousness, but to such a degree that has you seeing stars as Vada eats you out like it’s her second nature...

Her tongue slips between your walls suddenly, causing you to arch your back into the air, hips rolling into her face. Her tongue continues to lap confidently, going in circles around your entrance. A shaky sigh leaves your lungs, and you have to clench your eyes shut.

“Vada, oh my god,” you breathe shakily, your voice tight and high, feeling you stomach coil, “I'm gonna cum– Fuck, fuck, Vada."

Her lips find your clit again, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your thighs clasping around her head so tight she swears her ears start to ring.

You shiver as the brunette drinks you up hungrily, your legs easing their hold on her, chest heaving with shuddering gasps.

“Oh, Vada. Fuck,” you mutter, resting your forearm over your eyes as you try to calm your speeding heart, “That was so... so good, baby. I think you lied to me. Either that, or you’re... a natural.” You chuckle breathlessly, raising a shaky hand to swipe some stray hairs from your forehead.

Your legs move to unhook themselves from the girl’s shoulders, taking pity on her most likely strained muscles, but Vada’s grip turns bruising on your legs. You’re pushed back further into the pillows suddenly, and before you can let out a single peep in alarm, she’s on you again.

Her hands reach to grasp under your knees, bending your legs up, your pussy spread open for her. She doesn’t relent — her hands hold your thighs as she all but buries her face in your heat, the movements of her tongue harsh. Fast. Merciless.

The sudden aggressiveness makes you let out a broken moan, your hands darting to tread through Vada’s hair, wanting her closer but away at the same time, the painful pleasure too much for your scrambled mush of a brain to handle.

“Oh my god, Vada!”

She leans away for a moment to trace two separate stripes from your entrance up to your clit with the tip of her tongue, and you whine, your foggy mind realizing that she has actually just done the letter thing, before she’s back on you like a hungry beast, jaw hanging open to wrap her mouth around your seizing cunt with an obscene slurping sound.

Your back arches as you cum harder than before, throwing your head back against bed and squeezing your eyes shut, your girlfriend’s name tumbling out of your mouth in an almost pornographic moan. You whine as Vada laps at your center with purpose, licking you clean, before pulling away mercifully.

There’s a cocky wolfish grin on the brunette’s face as she watches you open your eyes slowly, trying to compose yourself.

“How was that for a notch on your belt, hm?”

Shit. If you didn’t just experience the most intense orgasm in your life, you’d scoff at the smugness of her tone.

“I’m gonna be honest... I wasn’t sure I’d be into... that,” you say shakily, “But I guess I am now. Jesus Christ, Vada.”

“Just Vada is fine.” She gently caresses your hips, leans down to kiss your jaw lovingly, “Now...”

Her fingers lift the hem of your shirt up to your chest, blunt nails grazing the flesh under your breasts – she watches them rise and fall with your unsteady breaths.

“How about I salt the earth behind me so that no one ever stands a chance of owning you the way I do?”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #vada x reader #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #the fallout #jenna ortega smut #vada cavell smut

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cursedvida · 4 months

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Clean Sky || Noa x Mae

Authors note: just a little oneshoot of this couple bc they inspired me so much. Not warnings, just Noa having a meltdown. English isn't my first language so i'm sorry in advance lol.

Humans were nothing more than echoes of a world that existed far from his own, outside the comfort of his village, and they had never sparked even the slightest curiosity in him. He knew they were wild, irrational beings, sometimes stealing ape's food if they weren't careful enough. Scavengers like any other animals, nothing out of the ordinary. Noa had never seen one in person, but he hadn't had any particular interest in doing so either.

Ironically, now he can't stop thinking about them.

Specifically, about her.

He often wonders what became of the human girl. Echo, Nova, Mae. As many names as faces, as many facets as secrets she holds. During the arduous mornings of work trying to rebuild the village, the young ape finds himself surprised more times than he'd like, thinking about how that skinny-legged, weak-armed human must be wandering alone in such a hostile world. Humans are quick and agile, but also fragile and delicate. During their time traveling together, Noa often felt that, if he wanted to, he could easily break her in two. If he had embraced her with the same fervor with which he pounced on Soona or Anaya, he probably would have broken her a bone. But then he reminds himself that it makes no sense to consider such a thing, because he would never have embraced a human, nor would he do so now.

Days pass and life in the village returns to normalcy, the routines that once brought him joy now become monotonous and bland, as if something inside him tells him that this is not where he should be. There is something within him, an inexplicable urge that pushes him to go beyond what he has always known. Perhaps it's because he hasn't completely shaken off the anxious anguish he felt watching his entire clan disappear, or it may be because of the infinite enormity of the world beyond the walls of his home he experienced during his travel. But at some moments, he realizes that maybe it's all because of the stars that, every night, remind him of the universe he saw through that human machine and that Mae seemed to long for as much as he did.

On clear nights, Noa can't help but wonder if the human is seeing the same sky as him, if the stars shining so brightly from his village are the same ones she can see. He never got to know much about her, and the little she wanted to reveal was probably lies, but there was something in her eyes the last time they met, a certain melancholic sparkle that has stuck inside him like a huge thorn he's unable to remove. He doesn't quite understand why the image of the girl's moist eyes comes to mind every time he closes his eyes on nights illuminated by the headlights of the universe, but every time he recalls her face, he feels a current that urges him to run away from there as fast as possible, leaving him utterly terrified.

He had never been interested in leaving his village or living away from his clan. His mother, his friends and the people he grew up with mean everything to him, and yet suddenly he remembers that human hands are terribly similar to his own, only much smaller, with fingers so delicate they almost resemble brittle branches. He had touched Mae's hand a couple of times, unintentionally, feeling skin devoid of calluses or roughness, smooth and soft skin that made him wonder how it could resemble him so much and yet be so terribly different.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #mae x noa #noa x mae #nomae #kingdom of the planet of the apes fanfiction #nomae fanfiction #oneshoot #kotpota noa #kotpota mae #kotpota fanfic #kotpota #pota #potafanfic #it's been a while since the last time i write something #not sure about this but i was in my work thinking about these two #sorry for the typos englis isn't my first language #just wanting to add something to the fanbase

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13uswntimagines · 9 months

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I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)

Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?

Part of the same universe as the come down.

Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic

Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.

Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.

It was utterly exhausting.

The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best.

You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp.

You got to fight.

It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own.

It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember.

To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating.

It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse.

It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better.

Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot.

But it didn’t help.

The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again.

It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always.

Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans.

It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage.

With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with.

It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize.

Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.

“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,”

She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her.

While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.

“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine.

You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg.

It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend.

“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,”

“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.

You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,”

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,”

“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,”

You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again.

“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,”

“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin.

Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?”

“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,”

Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder.

“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips.

You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself.

You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly.

You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter.

“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,”

You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red.

The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?”

Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead.

“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,”

More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear.

She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand.

You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear.

It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features.

She had worn lingerie for you.

Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,”

You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”

Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”

You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core.

She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates.

“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”

You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”

Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before.

You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates.

You weren’t ready to talk yet.

You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper.

*****

You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you.

And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant.

You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend.

You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator.

“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”

She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe.

“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.

Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,”

You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.

You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness.

You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over.

You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships.

The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure.

“Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder.

You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door.

She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it.

“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”

She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss.

You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance.

It was the reminder that you desperately needed.

The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat.

She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.

“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless.

“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,”

You swallowed hard at the change of tone.

“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open.

You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight.

She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know.

“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long.

You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt.

You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants.

It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt.

You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks.

As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back.

The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain.

The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck.

“Kneel,”

The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order.

You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.

“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”

You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet.

You didn’t want to talk.

You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,”

Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface.

“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out.

She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.

“Is this because your fight was canceled?”

You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel.

But that was enough of an answer for her.

Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,”

You shook your head.

You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity.

You wanted her to crush you.

“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,”

You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it.

“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,”

“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat.

You didn't need easy right now.

She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention.

That had been why you acted out at all anyway.

She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees.

“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite.

You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch.

You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you.

She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you.

You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen.

The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded.

It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most.

Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue.

“Ready darling?”

You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position.

A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads.

She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring.

You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water.

“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue.

“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch.

“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,”

Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read.

You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place.

It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds.

You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled.

Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book.

That irritated you too.

The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in.

Now you didn’t even have that.

You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.

But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned.

A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion.

It was what your opponent would have done anyway.

You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies.

The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?

It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable.

And then it clicked.

This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you.

She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will.

She just had to ask.

You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you.

You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you.

“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t.

She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit.

It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed.

You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow.

You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud.

Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book.

“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book.

You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too.

You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit.

She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.

She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back.

“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,”

Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away.

“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,”

You groaned.

Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes.

It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record.

There would be no mercy unless you safeworded.

You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping.

Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass.

You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page.

You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left.

But then again that would probably be worse.

You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder.

You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain.

It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her.

To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back.

You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud.

She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass.

“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,”

You took another deep breath as she filled the glass.

You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended.

Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach.

It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions.

Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades.

The spot that felt so tight.

You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck.

You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you.

“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back.

You collapsed to the floor.

You hadn’t even made it a minute.

“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.

You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat.

It was pathetic.

“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,”

Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips.

You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized.

“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”

You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins.

“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…”

You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it.

“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,”

You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair.

She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight.

A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect.

It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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carolmunson · 1 year

Text

is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

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