#well I only care about the party lmao
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mike-haters-dni · 1 year ago
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‘SENT TO THE GULAG’ IS KILLING ME
okay yes hop has probably atoned for his sins by now and his monologue at rock bottom was really good but it still pisses me off sometimes idkk. im just waiting for the payoff of seeing him actually DO better this time😭
and exactly! the angst in s2 is like- messy- but that’s good television! it gave us a top 5 millie preformance how can i even be mad
men in stranger things are weird sometimes cuz you have to overlook their CRIMES, (i’ll be like “omg jancy!” then i REMEMBER…) it’s weird when a character is randomly at their worst for a scene or a season just to meet the story’s requirements
jopper can scream at each other all sam and diane for nostalgia in s3 but when you look at it in a larger context it’s kinda dicey. like how weird of hop to doubt her when he already knows to trust her instincts.
and also it’s just like- nobody drags him enough for me! he’s so loved- male characters can do ANYTHING kinda- so i have to get him. out of principle. and i see that hopper (and like david harbour) is too important to kill off in the show and that him and el’s relationship isn’t all lows, not even in s2. i think i’m just bitter that 1. st tiktok treats el like she was SO unreasonable in that scene>:( (i need to stop going there it makes me want to rant on tumblr) and 2. how much time was devoted to bringing him back last season like my cali boys were so neglected. :( (after 2 failed prison escape attempts i was like (why i am still looking at this insanely bruised man) so-
but yeah i need to stop typing now cause i have a million thoughts in my head about hopper and the way that he is. and the way the show treats him. (how funny is it that even the viewers can have a complicated relationship with him. maybe i’m not giving the writers enough credit in that regard)
: )
-No like, I agree 100%. We forgive but we never forget
-I have a hard time even being really mad at Jonathan for the Incident cuz like, that was such a weird ooc moment that was clearly just so the plot would happen. Like he got possessed by the spirit of the writers to do that shit. And like I can't even be mad at the writers either because like, the plot they were servicing is really fucking good? I might be the only person in the world who thinks this but I think this show is phenomenally written esp from a plot structure perspective. Near perfectly even. Like this show single-handedly instilled a sense of how to do super satisfying setup and payoff, and how to have every scene push multiple things forward, and how everything seen on screen needs to be relevant to as much as possible. Its so tightly written that its like...yeah Jonathan had to do that shit. It allowed like 3 perfectly intersecting plotlines to play out. There was no other option. And like there probably was and maybe I'm coping or whatever but like...idk it's perfect to me :) But still we forgive but we never forget. And we only forgive after they display a marked change in behavior. And we still never forget <3 (side note: remember when El dumped him and Mike ((and Lucas)) went full andrew tate for a second? That's the one thing he's ((they've)) actually ever done wrong lmaooo ((tbf they were also 13 so like)))
-Who tf is saying she was being unreasonable??? child???? traumatized??? isolated in a tiny cabin for a year?????? With Hopper?????? A cop????????? HellO?????????? Bro ppl HATE her bro this needs to stop
-I think the biggest problem with the Russia plotline is just that it's not fun? Watching Hopper get tortured in a labor camp is not fun? I came here for 80s vibes, friendship and supernatural shit and it only delivers that whenever Joyce and Murray are onscreen (who are really fantastic together tho) and once the monster finally shows up way too late into the proceedings. There should have been inklings of monster throughout to add some intrigue and let us know that this was all going to have a point that tied into the plot of Stranger Things the 80s Monster Show. But alas.
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memento-morri-writes · 1 month ago
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I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:
tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries
He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.
#morrigan.text#my writing#dnd writing#oc: Rook#oc: Zara#Poor Zara.#she's gonna feel so fucking guilty about everything that's happened to him in the last 3 years even though it's not her fault.#yes she pissed off Wolf but she had no way of knowing Wolf would go after Rook instead of her.#(I don't even know what she did to piss off Wolf. That's the Big Reveal that's going to happen when Rook sees her again.)#but yeah. Seeing him like this and knowing/thinking that it's because of her actions... it's going to destroy her and that kills me.#I don't know what she did but I *do* know that she never intended for Rook to get hurt. She loves him too much for that.#but Rook could never blame her for anything. He'd forgive her just about anything. And that will probably only make her feel worse.#Rook and his mentors will never ever fail to fuck me up big time.#his undying devotion and naive faith in them which is such a stark contrast to his usual distrust of people.#and it gets him hurt every time even though the don't *mean* to hurt him. But Sigmar's case was definitely much more malicious than Zara's.#this reunion is going to be such a huge turning point for Rook's character and his personal development as a character.#well really it's a combination of things all happening at once that are going to be the turning point.#1) the fact that the party rescued him from Wolf which has literally no other explanation than that they love him and care about him.#2) seeing Zara again and finally getting that closure that he never got three years ago plus being to reestablish the most important#relationship in his entire life. Plus she's just a good influence on him all-around a much-needed source of support after Sigmar's betrayal#3) getting gifted the Tide Breaker (Zara's old ship) and having to learn some responsibility for once in his life will be very good for him#and I guess you could also say that 4) my temporary character Val talking some sense into him has something to do with it lmao.#but we'll see how this all plays out bc while I know these things are going to happen they technically haven't happened yet.#I'm not gonna RP the conversation between Rook and Val bc it would just be me talking to myself for a long time but I am gonna write it up#when we get to that point so I can show it to the DM so he knows what they talked about. Plus it will be a very fun exercise bc Val was#literally designed to be Rook's opposite in just about every way. They're very wise and responsible and Rook is a reckless idiot.#(but I love him anyways.)#So it's gonna be fun to balance writing both of them in the same conversation.#anyways. these tags are SO FUCKING LONG already. If you read this far I'm giving you your favorite dessert and a hug if you want it.#and also pledging you my undying allegiance for life. <3
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konfizry · 3 months ago
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because who's gonna vouch for her existence? who can say for sure that she is a real person who existed, say, 5 months prior to the game's events?
no one!!!!!
#like all the other party members have acquaintances (and sometimes family) that you meet#more often than not in the main plot; sometimes in a sidequest#heck even alphen who woke up from his Big Nap not too long ago has ppl in mosgul who have spent the past year with him#and like im sure if you think of any other character from the franchise#they have acquaintances that the party meets#but for shionne the only ppl we meet who know her from before are balseph and some of his goons maybe#THIS IS SO WEIRD#and like she implies(?) that she used to have a family but i guess i cant complain that theyre out of the picture#and you could argue “well thats the point. shes always been alone so naturally youre not gonna meet her buddies she doesnt have any”#i would argue that they stiĺ could have made a subquest where you meet a couple doctors/researchers who used to “care for” her#or a rando on lenegis who tells you how he once bumped into shionne as a kid and the memory forever remains with him bc it was#the worst pain hed felt in his life and omg is that her with you right now stay back stay back aaà aaaaa aaa#Like they dont even let you meet her doll#she refers to it as her only friend gdi#regardless of whether thats also alphens doll. can we see it?#can we come in contact with one thing that cements shionne's presence in this universe prior to the events of the game?#no????#all that coupled with the fact that the logistics of her arrival on dahna are such a headscratcher that fans had to ask tomizawa about it#and he refused to answer lmao#IM LOSING MY MIND GIVE SUBSTANCE TO THIS GIRL'S BACKSTORY BLEASE#arise curse#(not to mention that balseph and shionne' relationship is strictly Tom&Jerry-esque.#and it's impossible to parse for how long exactly he's know (of?) her)#(at least the few words they exchange pre-battle are still somewhat engaging and inform us on like. the Renan worldview. cool.)#shionne posting
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nightmarist · 1 year ago
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playnig baldurs gate 3
every party member is out for blood. i try being a Good Person and they fucking hate it. Everyone wants me to kill everyone and they Hate getting new quests. Its genuinely funny.
also its kind of refreshing for like. not everyone to want me to be Good all the time? im playing a lolth sworn drow, but ive been pavlovled by every video game ever to try and Be Good And Help Everyone All The Time its nice to be able to actually navigate the world as a drow, as a villain, as a fanatical tyrant + not everyone in the world is Nice or Good ! That little shite tiefling scammer child i will punt into the next dimension if it werent so funny theyre stealing from everyone
There is so much to do and so many ways to do it all the time its almost overwhelming. I snuck into a goblin camp so I could kill the leader and now I'm underground saving mushroom people as a sidequest. My bad. Just like playing dnd.....
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trashpremiium · 1 year ago
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deeply enamored by the fact every character pair my partner and I play in roleplay games boils down to "deeply serious and awkward character who doesn't like people and silly goofy character trying their absolute best to crack them (morally ambiguous) (one or both might have committed atrocities) (queer) (may or may not be in love depending on your view of 'in love' and it's proximity to romance)"
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krysmcscience · 2 months ago
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Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:
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The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.
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Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.
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It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.
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Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄
Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.
also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh
⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️
Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D
Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.
Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:
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'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.
you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH
And, finally:
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lmao this is shit
True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.
Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD
Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D
Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)
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atrwriting · 10 months ago
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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
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hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon
this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!
as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda
informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned
anyways… here is future problems:
he never wanted to get married.
he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.
despised them.
however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.
and it would be you.
he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.
it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.
he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.
however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.
at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.
but then… oh, then…
then he saw your smile.
oh, your smile.
your fucking smile.
the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.
no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.
no one.
when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.
and it was… until he was sick.
it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.
however, he did not expect one problem.
and that would be you.
he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.
he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?
so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.
just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.
he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —
but he couldn’t finish the thought.
because you walked in.
smelling like fucking lilacs.
lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.
however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.
he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.
“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”
“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”
you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.
he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.
“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”
you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”
you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”
you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.
he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.
however, he didn’t understand why.
he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?
he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.
and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.
however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?
his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.
he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.
he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!
he had to know. he had to.
to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.
as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.
"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."
you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"
"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."
you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?
"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."
why. why. why.
he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.
he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.
the act would drop. it always did.
the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.
and he fucking hated himself for it.
he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.
but you had kept reading for him.
he grew angry.
when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."
your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.
"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."
you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.
"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.
you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."
she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.
the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.
that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.
that would have to be righted immediately.
he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.
they always slip.
the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.
he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.
how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.
you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.
"good evening," you greeted.
"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.
"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.
he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"
your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."
you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."
you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."
he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"
your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”
your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?
so he went with what was natural: manipulation.
“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”
you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.
“what troubles you?” he asked.
your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.
“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”
“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”
there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.
“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”
your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.
“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”
“please,” he answered and nodded.
you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.
this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.
he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.
you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.
you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.
and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.
for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,
to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.
you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.
after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.
how had he not expected this?
his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.
he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.
he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.
he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.
good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.
he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.
so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.
he hated himself for the lilacs.
he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.
however, it didn’t.
all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.
she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.
he knew what he had to do.
he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.
he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.
he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.
you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”
“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.
“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”
you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.
“how do you like his new book?” you asked.
coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”
you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”
he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.
“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”
you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”
“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”
you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”
“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.
you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”
now was the time.
“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”
you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.
damn, he thought. didnt bite.
“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.
you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”
he nodded.
“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”
“i don’t understand.”
you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”
your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.
“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.
there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”
your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.
“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.
“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”
“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.
“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”
it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.
“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”
“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”
you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed
you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.
there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?
he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.
once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.
when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”
“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”
he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.
oh.
you invited him in to… to…
that he had not expected.
before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.
once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.
you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.
what was he to do?
he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.
the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.
would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?
you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.
he reasoned a reward was in order.
he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.
the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.
then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.
those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.
however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.
he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.
“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”
coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.
coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.
“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”
your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”
his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.
“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“
he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.
he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.
“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.
your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”
“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.
you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.
“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“
coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”
he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.
just this once, you both thought. just this once.
his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.
with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.
corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.
he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”
he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.
he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”
you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”
his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”
“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.
his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”
“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”
bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.
it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.
“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”
he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”
you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.
holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.
he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.
you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.
a low hum filled his chest.
you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.
that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.
maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.
you had to do something.
"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."
he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.
you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.
"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."
your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.
"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.
"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."
you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."
he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"
you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."
he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"
"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."
"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.
you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.
“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”
there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.
he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.
in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.
“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.
your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.
with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.
shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.
his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.
“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”
you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.
he cocked an eyebrow.
“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”
corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…
oh… you were done for.
one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.
the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.
“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”
his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.
“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”
“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”
“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”
“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.
the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —
“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”
tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —
“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“
there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.
“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”
“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”
you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.
it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.
tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.
his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.
“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.
“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”
you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“
“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.
you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“
he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.
“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”
you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”
he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”
you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."
you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”
“i promise,” you returned.
you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.
everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.
"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"
"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"
you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.
you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.
he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.
you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.
"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."
again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...
that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.
"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."
his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."
your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."
corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.
"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."
"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."
his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"
"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"
corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.
when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.
he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.
"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."
corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"
you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."
he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."
---
love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u
-L xooxoxooxox
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pomefioredove · 2 months ago
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Hello! I was wondering if you could do the Dormleaders' reactions to Yuu who, given that they're from another world, is immune to any and all magic spells.
Example: Riddle's 'Off With Your Head' doesn't make a collar on their neck, 'King's Roar' doesn't affect them at all, 'It's A Deal' doesn't take anything from Yuu and acts like any ordinary contract, etc.
However, this means any healing spells has no effect, forcing Yuu to heal on their own.
Thank you for reading this!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ magic immune reader
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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out of all the dorm leaders, Riddle would be the most annoyed
...not that 'Off With Your Head' would've done much, anyway
you have no magic to take away
but... it's the meaning!
it's symbolic!
even a plain old collar would be punishment enough
but he can't even do that!
hopefully, you're not the type to misbehave, so he won't have to worry about it
if you are...
...expect to spend a lot of your week trimming the hedges around Heartslabyul as punishment
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona doesn't even know until his overblot
...well...
until after his overblot
everyone keeps going on about how lucky you are
(personally, he doesn't see what's so great about being magic-repellent, but sure)
he's... glad you're okay
not that he'd ever admit that...
just don't let it get to your head, alright?
being immune to magic means both bad and good spells
and he's not going to be sanding you again anytime soon
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul is PISSSSSED lmao
all that work he's put into his latest business venture
and for what??
you're not even BOUND by his contracts!
he has a hard time saying goodbye to Ramshackle...
what a nice cafe it would have made...
but, still
there's got to be some way he can use this to his advantage
he's an adaptable man
and he's always looking for a new assistant
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim is only a little disappointed
first, you can't even cast a spell
now you can't have any cast on you?
you're missing out on all his great party tricks!!!
but... oh, well
he thinks of it as an adventure, or a fun challenge
magicless parties sound kinda cool, right?
and Jamil says it's probably for the better, and Kalim trusts his judgment
(...for now, at least, cough cough)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
not counting the... VDC incident, Vil doesn't care
unlike your annoying friends, he has no reason to curse you
and he can certainly think of many magicless punishments should you ever misbehave
so, no
not really something that crosses his mind
even when you're unwell (because, of course, he's the first to tend to you), he prefers using natural remedies before magical ones
to him, it's just another piece of the strange puzzle that is you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
honestly what is Idia going to do
open the gates of hell on you?
nah
even boring spells would be too much effort for a guy like him
he does find you kinda interesting, though
I mean, being immune to magic in this place is a total buff!
imagine a group of NPCs firing magic at you, and you're like, wham! whew! zoooom!
...in his own words, anyway
(it's not actually that cool)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Malleus...
where do I even start?
he's so reliant using magic that he can almost sense there's something different about you right away
one on hand, it's a good thing
he worries about you, you know? the students at this school can get... unruly
on the other hand, knowing that you won't respond to magical healing is... worrying
he tries not to think about it so much
his overblot is a different story, though
if he can't put you to sleep, what can he do? trap you at NRC with him forever?
actually... I take it back, he'd totally do that
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coco-cinnamon · 11 days ago
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Better Than Me?
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౨ৎ Warnings: cursing, drinking, Y/N being a bit of a player (I've never wrote Y/N doing that so lmao), sexual themes, degrading, smut, Rafe being an ass but, when is he not lol 18+ MDNI.
౨ৎ Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Female Kook Reader.
౨ৎ Summary: When Y/N is at a party, she messes with Rafe, pretending like she's tired of him and going to go to Topper for her new sex buddy but, Rafe makes sure she learns her lesson.
౨ৎ Word Count: 900+ words.
౨ৎ Author's Note: this was originally supposed to be a re-write of one of my old Topper fics but, it turned into a Rafe fic lmao. I'll post the old Topper fic soon.
©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.
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Sipping your beer from a red solo cup, you surveyed the lively party. The pulsing music reverberated in your chest, as Rafe Cameron's parties always went all out. When one of your friends caught your eye and waved you over to the dance floor, you smiled back, ready to join her. But before you could make your way through the crowd, a hand suddenly gripped your arm.
Attempting to pull your arm away, you snap, "What the fuck?!" But it's no use - their grip is like iron around your arm. You whip yourself around to see who had grabbed you. Looking up, you're met with ocean blue eyes staring down into yours, hazy with lust. "What the fuck do you want, Rafe?" you ask, finally managing to yank your arm out of his grip. He just smirks at you, his eyes a mix of amusement and lust. "That isn't any way to greet the host, is it?"
You crossed your arms, your gaze piercing up at him. "Again, what the hell do you want?" you asked.
He smirked. "Well, I figured since you came to my party, we could head up to my bedroom. I'm sure we could do way more interesting things up there than you would be able to do over there with your friends."
You cocked a brow, considering his words. He watched you, his impatience growing evident on his face. With a sarcastic smile, you said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and began to turn away. Before you could fully turn around and walk off, he yanked you back to face him again. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, "what now?"
"I thought we had something good going on here." he said, tilting his head quizzically. "We did, at first." you replied with a small shrug. His jaw clenched slightly as he growled, "What do you mean 'at first'?" Maintaining a calm demeanor and a small smirk, you replied, "Exactly what I said. At first, we had a pretty sweet thing, but then I got bored. Plain and simple." You crossed your arms as you continued, "You care more about your own pleasure than mine, so I'm no longer interested."
Rafe scoffed bitterly. "No longer interested? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it. You and I both know there's no one here who can make you feel as good as I do. No one knows your body like I do. Do you really think any of these idiots could make you cum the way I can?" He growled, tightening his grip on your shoulders.
You smirked up at him. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's worth a shot to see if anyone can do better. As of right now, I've got my eye on him." You gestured towards Topper Thornton, who was across the room drinking and chatting with Kelce. Rafe let out a mocking laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Really?! Topper Thornton is who you're interested in?" he scoffed. "That's got to be a joke, Y/N. You'd actually lower your standards that much?"
"I think I already lowered my standards when I started sleeping with you," you retorted with a smirk, knowing you were getting under his skin. You begin to speak once again, "I mean, Topper is very attractive. Or if you'd rather, I could go and sleep with Maybank. I know for a fact that he'd know how to—"
But you get cut off as Rafe's hand suddenly wraps around your throat. He yanks you forward, his nose only inches from yours. The height difference causes you to rise up on your tiptoes. "Cut it out Y/N or I swear to god I will take you up those fucking stairs right now and fuck your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day." He said, his voice lethally soft. You look up at him, remaining defiant as a a smirk playing on your lips before you speak "I think I'd rather Topper over there to fuck me."
"You want Topper to fuck you?! Fine!" He snaps, his grip around your throat tightening slightly as he continues, "but just know that I will make you beg on your fucking hands and knees when you crawl back to me, begging me for my cock because Topper couldn't fuck you properly." With that, he roughly drops you. You glance over to where Topper stands with Kelce, then shift your gaze back to Rafe. He smirks down at you, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to whore yourself out to Topper." His grin widens as he sees your face twist with annoyance. "Or are you having second thoughts?"
You glared at him before turning around and starting to make your way towards Topper. But before you could reach him, Rafe came over and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. He then smacked your ass roughly, eliciting a squeak from you.
"I- what the hell, Rafe?!" you yelled as he carried you towards the stairs. "Did you really think I was going to let you fuck him? You're mine, Y/N, and by the end of the night the only name that will be able to leave your lips is mine," he growled.
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౨ৎ Author's Note: tysm for reading, babes! part two coming soon!
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rueclfer · 2 months ago
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saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part three
a/n: bakugou probs gives the bare fucking minimum as a frat boy like barely participates in the campaigns and rushes/recruitments and the only reason why he hasn't gotten booted yet is bc he's frat president kirishima's scary dog best friend and helps him make decisions lmao *written under cut*
denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks
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"Embarrassing how much effort I put in for a man who doesn't even want me." You dramatically sigh as you gently tilt Katsuki's head back by his chin, and holding the opening of a chilled bottle of water up to his lips.
Walking out to see him alone under the dim buzzing light barely hanging onto to the roof and hunched over a bush with his palm pressed against the side of the frat house to hold himself up was a sad sight for you to see, but you couldn't help but enjoy the rare humiliation.
He scowls and swats your hand away, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand.
"The fuck are you talking about?" He coughs into the collar of his shirt.
"What? Am I wrong?" You press your lips together, suppressing a growing smile, and setting the empty bottle on the window ledge beside you
He rubs his temple in annoyance, clearly not near sober enough to have a conversation about his feelings. "Irritating as fuck is what you are."
With the noise of the party and thumping music leaking from inside of the house, you two were left alone by yourselves in the side yard with the occasional person or two stepping out for a smoke or to vomit.
"I'm just teasing, Kats." You chuckle, reaching up to rake your fingers through the sweaty strands of hair glued to his forehead. "It's not that serious."
"I told you not to come out here, didn't I?" He mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the wall.
"Well, Denki's occupied with the other brothers and I'm not going to leave you out here yacking in the bushes."
He remains silent for a moment, lazily intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your hands from side to side.
"Dumbass." He murmurs under his breath. "Too nice for your own good."
"Trust me, I know." You roll your eyes. "Let's get you to your room? You look like you might drop any second." You attempt to wiggle your hand out of his iron grasp.
"It's too god damn loud in there." He groans "Stay here with me."
His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made his usual scowl falter into a perpetual pout, making your nerves twitch and it impossible to say no to him.
"You're not scared of anyone seeing us like this? Being so close? Me taking care of you?" You peer around for any sign of watching eyes.
"Like it matters. Everyone knows you're mine- or they should at least." He tightens his grip on your hand.
"Yeah? Prove it, then" You challenge, sparking a quirk of interest in his eyes.
A lazy smirk grows on his lips as he looks down at you through his lashes, scanning every corner of your face before he pulls you in against his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your lips.
"You wanna give everyone inside a show or some shit?" He mutters against your lips, peppering kisses in between every few words. "Give me 10 minutes with you out here and I can sober up real fuckin quick."
"That, or also," You wrap an arm around his torso, and the other slapping a hand over his mouth, pushing his face away. "you can ask me out on a date, dipshit."
He narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brows in the process.
"Nu uh. No fucking way. You don't want to go out with me."
"Yuh huh." You mock his drunken childish tone, keeping your hand clasped over his mouth. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I think I love you." He muffles behind your hand. "So that'll be a fucking wreck for both of us."
"Wha-"
He pulls your hand away from his mouth and cuts you off with his lips with more desperation and force as he pulls you closer to him by the back of your neck and grip around your waist.
An efficient way to shut you up.
"Don't remind me about that tomorrow, alright?" He mutters against your lips, knowing well that if there's one thing his mind will cling onto in this drunken state, it'll be this moment with you in the side yard where your cheeks are perfectly flushed from the alcohol and cold nice breeze, your hands all over him, and his heart racing as he admit to you and himself for the first time that he loves you.
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juletheghoul · 4 months ago
Note
JULES! It's currently 12:30am and I can't stop thinking about your Marcus gladiator fic. I need to scream this at you.
Picture this:
They are back in Rome. They are in the baths, public or private. I personally picture public ignoring the fact he would definitely get his own bathing area being a successful General but I digress. Someone has had a bit too much wine and gets a little too handsy and rough with his girl. That pisses him off so now he has to take a statement right? You can't touch what's his!
So he calls her into the water with him and has her continue the bathing while sitting on his cock before just eventually destroying her. Bonus points if he makes stoic eye contact with the offending party that started it all.
I cannot get this idea out of my head and I just had to share this with you.
Take care~! ❤️
Nonny - you really came for my fucking throat with this one... 😍😍😍 like... I stared at this with my jaw on the floor - what a mind you have... okay lets get into it
smut under the cut - 18+ and don't read more if you aren't into exhibitionism (not beta'ed and barely proofread lmao)
Series masterlist
---
The campaign was finally over, for now.
He'd marched into the city with his legions behind him, and the streets of Rome roared to herald their victor, the famous, brutal, but efficient, General Marcus Acacius.
He waved, and made the appropriate salutes to the city, but he was sparing with his smiles, his eyes scanning even here in the safety of Rome's breast, for anything that might threaten his safety. You watched him from your place behind him, along with the other slaves that had followed him and his soldiers off to war, invisible in his shadow to anyone but him, and a few brazen few who had decided to test his boundaries. They had been forgotten however, the only thing that occupied your mind, was him.
His first stop had been his villa, to settle his household. It was all very cut and dry, his staff knew to keep his house in order in his absence and they did so, enough that he hadn't even spoken more than a few words while he made his way through. While he set about getting settled in, you did the same, moving silently through his halls towards your modest quarters. The road had been long, and you thought that you could probably get away with bathing, and taking a few moments to yourself, trusting that now he would be well attended to.
You barely got your bearings when he cleared his throat at your door.
"Apologies Dominus, did you want for something?"
"Gather your things, we go to the baths."
-
The baths, strictly speaking, were for everyone. There were certain ones however, like the one you were in now, that were privately owned. This one, was owned by a member of the Senate and friend to the Roman army, and as such, was populated by a few other soldiers, and their attendants.
Marcus spoke very little by nature, he was a man who kept his words as close as he did his coin. He said even less when confronted with raucous laughter, and men who couldn't seem to keep their dignity when taking a cup of wine.
His jaw clenched as you both settled into the warm waters of the baths and you set about washing the march and the war and the violence off of his skin, sitting behind him to rub the knots from his shoulders while ignoring the ever increasingly loud soldiers around you. One of them, was the same that had tested his patience in his tent, and by the way he kept eyeing Marcus in front of you, had forgotten the lesson.
"The oil, girl." He spoke low over his shoulder, and you belatedly realized you'd left the oil he liked with the robes when you'd undressed.
"Yes Dominus." WIth haste, and not an ounce of shame, you rose up out of the water and went to grab the vial, finding it quickly, but before you could make it back to him you were cut off.
"I can see why you like this one General, I can see why you're so greedy with her." The same soldier stands in your way, his hands grabbing at your waist. The wine in his cup spills onto your naked skin and for a moment you're afraid he'll paw at you further but within a moment he's as still as a statue. That's when you notice, the deathly hush that falls over the whole place.
You look up into the soldiers face and his eyes are as big as plates, a small dagger pressed to the apple of his throat, the point just deep enough to draw blood. You hadn't heard him come out of the water.
"This is the last warning I give you, the next time you put your hands on what's mine, you will die." His voice was a whisper, but it echoed through the room. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
"Ye-yes, Yes General." all humor had gone from the man, and when Marcus had pulled away, all taste for wine had as well.
Wordlessly you followed Marcus back into the water, but instead of sitting in front of you, he pulled you to sit in his lap, keeping his eyes on the spurned soldier.
"I want you sitting like this." His hands settled on your hips and you felt the way he hardened beneath you, "Continue." He spoke low, but clear and kept his eyes focused, daring anyone to question him.
You did your best to focus on washing his hair, on rubbing the oil into the skin of his shoulders and his chest, but his hands wandered, grabbing at your ass and fitting his cock between the lips of your sex, drawing out your arousal and making your pulse quicken. His lips descended next, pressing softly to your shoulder while his eyes remained fixed. WIth a move, he slid his cock inside, pulling a moan from your lips, it only served to bolster him, making no move to conceal what he was doing and you knew it was part frustration from being at war, and driving home his point.
He said nothing, but he didn't need to.
People watched him take you there, in the water, and they said nothing. Any modesty you had, and shame had been worked out of you long ago and now, all you felt was pleasure. Both at him bouncing you on his cock, and at him having taught the soldier a lesson on your behalf. You ignored the part that sang the sweet song of ownership. You were his, and he relished the fact.
"Dominus-" You all but moaned into his ear, "May I have your gift?" You bounced on your own now, holding onto his neck, pressing yourself tightly to him.
"Yes Girl, it's yours, take it." He grit out the words, his eyes finally finding yours. You sped up, using your buoyancy to your advantage, clenching around him on the downstroke and when you felt his hands tighten around your hips you knew you had him.
"May I have your mouth, Dominus?" You watched his lips as you bounced, and he smiled a tiny smile before claiming your kiss with the same ardor that burned in your veins.
His tongue licked into your mouth and within a moment you felt the first spurt of him, deep inside where he liked it to be.
After a few minutes you made to move but his hands held you tightly. You took a look around, but unbeknownst to you, the baths had emptied and you were alone.
"I did not feel you flutter, and I am not yet clean."
---
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ahsxual · 23 days ago
Text
What Are They Like In Bed?
Pairing: Matthew Lillard Characters x Reader
Characters: William Afton, Stu Macher, Stevo Levy, Tim Laflour & Doug Van Housen
Warnings: +18 content, minors DNI, rough sex, mentions of torture and unhealthy relationships
William Afton
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William is a very rough and possessive lover in bed. His main goal is to make you cum by overstimulating and edging you over and over again. He would love to "torture" you just to hear you beg for mercy for him to stop, only to laugh at your face afterwards. He will degrade you and make you feel like a personal sex doll for his own pleasure
He isn't loud in bed, apart from a few low grunts when he's cumming, especially when it's inside you (his favorite place to cum)
His favorite position is missionary, so he can watch your face while he fucks you, and doggy style, where he can watch your pretty ass bounce with every thrust and have full control of your body as he presses your head down
He will be sweet and nice to you in public so that you feel attached to him, just to act cold between four walls. You never know which side of him you'll get, so it's always a new experience and a rush of adrenaline whenever the two of you are about to fuck
He won't mind hurting you by talking to other women his age. In fact, he will feel great that you're jealous because of him and because he can "control" your feelings. But do not, and I repeat, DO NOT do the same to him. He'll make you regret it and you'll be covered in bruises the next day if not worse lol
That being said, William is extremely possessive of you, even if he doesn't admit it because you must know that you're only his
If you're in an official relationship with him, he'll take more care of you and be more attentive to your needs, so he'll be able to make love to you if you ask beg him to. But don't forget his "true persona" and his evil nature, so his "sweet version" won't last forever
Stu Macher
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Stu is a sweeter lover in bed, if you're his girlfriend. If you're not, he'll be the horniest guy you've ever met and will fuck you just to get off, so he'll be pretty annoying just to get in your pants.
He's always in the mood for it, so you better be prepared to deal with a super clingy and touchy Stu all day. He won't even mind where you guys are, he just wants to kiss and be inside you.
His favorite position is the one where he can put your legs around his shoulders to fuck you deeper while looking into your eyes, since he knows his dick is huge and it can reach places you never knew about yourself it'll hurt a bit, just so you know
His pace is pretty fast, but he isn't too rough, unless you ask for it. If you guys are dating or having a deep level of intimacy, he'll tell you about his darkest kinks in hope you'll accept them and want to experiment them as well.
Such as knife kink, chasing kink, pain kink (both sides), dacryphilia, predator/prey dynamic kink, and much more.
He'll want you to have sex with Billy too eventually, with Stu still present obviously, just to prove to Billy what a good girl you are and how lucky he is to have you for himself also to have an excuse to be more intimate with Billy lmao
BUT, if you ever find out about his double life and even then you stayed loyal and accepted him, or even want to join them, Stu will kill and die for you without blinking an eye, if necessary. He'll do anything for you and your sex will be even more... thrilling
Stevo Levy
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We all know that Stevo is all about rebellion, drugs and sex. Those are the three things he needs in his life to feel alive and give life some meaning.
Stevo is actually a great lover as long as you guys keep your relationship unofficial and stay faithful to each other!! From his countless experiences, he's great in bed, always making you feel sexy and valued by kissing and worshipping every part of your body.
He'll fuck you anywhere, whether it's at parties, at a friend's house, in a hidden spot in the middle of the street that he's found, literally anywhere. And he won't give two fucks if you guys get caught, and will fight whoever makes you feel uncomfortable or makes nasty comments about you.
His kisses are sloppy and wet, especially when he's high or drunk, so by the end of the night you'll be covered in his spit. In the beginning, his sex is primal and he will fuck you like he needs it to stay alive, which means there'll be sweat, hickeys and your sore pussy in the next morning.
You'll also notice a change in your sexual encounters the moment he falls in love with you: he'll be more sweet, his pace will be more slow and sensual, and your pleasure will always come first rather than his, even if it means he doesn't get to come. He wouldn't tell you that he's falling for you, but you would find out when Bob and Mike told you he had been acting weird lately and by the fact that he had beaten the shit out of a guy who was flirting with you at a party.
Also, he's a switch in bed, if you tease him enough ;)
Tim Laflour
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Sex with Tim is a very polemical topic, as we all know. Ever since he began to commit to his pledge, it was a bit challenging to convince him to make sex with you... but only at the beginning.
You're too irresistible for him to reject his sexual needs, so after one month of dating, he begged you on his knees to just taste and eat you out he literally cried. There's no penetration , so it doesn't count as actual sex, right?
After that "incident", you began to tease him more to get what you wanted. To be intimate with your boyfriend, there's nothing wrong with that. And believe me when I tell you it worked perfectly.
Tim is probably the most attentive, caring and loving partner you'll ever have in bed and in general. He can't be extremely rough or mean with you, it's all just pure love and tenderness with him. He would probably die from sadness and regret if he ever hurt you.
Before you started dating him, he was more dominant and wanted to prove to you that he was good in bed. Now that you've been dating for months, he's mostly a sub in the bedroom, loving the way you dominate him and make him beg for release.
But don't get me wrong, because in moments when he's feeling desperate, he won't let you have your way and will actually fuck you instead of making sweet, sensual love. He will apologize afterwards if he was too rough and the aftercare will be perfect.
This big boy loves quickies, especially if you're both stoned or drunk at your closest friend's house. On those occasions, his pace is very fast, as if he was losing his virginity to a goddess and couldn't control his sexual desires, and he grabs you as if you might run away from him. In the end, you always laugh at how cute, desperate, and clingy he was with you.
LISTEN, this boy right here has a hockey player/cheerleader role-play kink. He goes crazy when you dress up as a semi-naked cheerleader and ride him, telling him how such a good boy he was and that he deserved a reward for winning the game. BUT, if his team loses, you've discovered one thing that turns his sadness into excitement... and that being said, Tim never leaves a game upset anymore, regardless of the result, because he knows that has soon as you get home, you're going to peg him until he begs you to let him come. YES, he's definitely into pegging.
The fact that he has a piercing on his penis and probably on his nipples too, it can add extra fun in sex, since he is very sensitive on those specific spots. Whenever you play with his piercings, expect him to cum within a few minutes. He's also the loudest in the bedroom ;))
Doug Van Housen
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Lord have mercy on you if you want to have sex with Doug Van Housen. He's the definition of destruction in sex, and if you're into pain and hard BDSM, then he's the right lover for you.
If you're not officially dating and it's just sex between you two, prepare to be constantly bruised and sore. He will use you as his sex doll, only for his pleasure and won't care much if he hurts you.
He gets turned on by your cries, your pain, your vulnerability, devotion and loyalty towards him, the way you give him the power to control and abuse you. But even then, you won't be able to see his softer side ever if he doesn't have real feelings for you.
If he does have feelings for you somehow, things will be a bit... different. He will be a bit more affectionate (not too much, just kisses and possessive side hugs) and focus more on your pleasure.
He won't stop fucking you until he made you cum several times and you don't have energy to simply get up. He enjoys the exhaustion he causes you, edging you first countless times, which means he did a great job in pleasuring you.
He'll want to mark and carve his initials on your soft skin, just so you know who you belong to and never forget it... as if you would ever forget, but "just in case your silly pussy decides to misbehave its master", he would say.
He's probably the kinkiest and most perverse of them all, and the one with the darkest fantasies too. He sees you only as his property, and won't hesitate to torture anyone who tries to take you away from him. But no one smart enough will challenge him if they have the will to live.
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peachdues · 11 months ago
Text
BIRTHDAY SURPRISES — NSFW
Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader
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A/N: there is nothing redeemable about this. It’s just 7.9k words of pure filth in honor of my man’s birthday.
My husband got a boner reading this, so enjoy you whores.
CW: MDNI • Explicit sexual content • daddy!kink • elevator blowjobs • creampies • rough sex • kinky sex • brat-taming/mild dumbification • overstimulation • fluff at the end followed by more smut • not proof read lmao
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Sanemi Shinazugawa has never liked the month of November.
For starters, the stupid month can’t decide what damn season it wants to be. It’s somehow too cold to really qualify as autumn and the leaves have usually fallen to the ground, brown and dead and useless, but it’s also still too warm to snow.
And November is such a tease — smack dab between two great holidays yet offering nothing but a restlessness that persists until the end of the year.
So no, Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t fond of this time of year. But the universe has never shied away from giving him the middle finger, so Sanemi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised his birthday falls during such a bullshit month like November.
He’d been content to spend the day of his birth like he did every other year — hunkered down in his apartment with some cheap takeout, alone, without anyone to make a big fuss about it. That was the plan — his goddamn plan.
So how the fuck did he end up here?
The “here” in question is a suite at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. The room is stuffed full of faces, some familiar but most not, packed together like sardines. The music is loud and pulsing and it threatens to give him a nasty headache.
It was Tengen who convinced him to allow this — though, Sanemi doesn’t suppose he was given much of a choice in the matter. But his friend group learned of his impending birthday a few weeks earlier, and before Sanemi could level a few, well-backed threats against any party planning, Tengen had booked the massive suite in which he now found himself, and promised Sanemi that he wouldn’t have to buy a single drink.
Sanemi agreed only on the condition that he be allowed to book a separate hotel room — several floors below where this godforsaken party now raged.
At least Tengen had meant it when he promised Sanemi wouldn’t have to spend a dime on alcohol. He took care to run up his friend’s tab by ordering several shots of Grey Goose, throwing them back as easily as water.
Hey, it was his birthday, after all.
The hotel suite is a blur of lights and colors and bodies pressed together in dark corners. Truthfully, Sanemi really can’t find any one thing to pay attention to; it’s ironic that this party is supposedly for him, and yet he feels like the most invisible person in the room.
But then he spots you — beautiful, witty, and charming you — seated in the lounge area, surrounded by both shared friends and strangers, and it’s like a spotlight has been pointed directly at you. All else seems to fall away, recessing into the shadows of the room, and his attention is locked solely on you; the star of the show that is his birthday party.
The feelings swirling in Sanemi’s chest are dangerous; lethal. He knows he should look away and accept the fact that you, with your endless pick of eligible women and men, would never deign to chase after someone like him, someone with as many scars on his heart as are seared into his skin. He knows that. He knows he’s only setting himself up to get more pissed off — to hate his birthday more than he already does.
But he can’t stop watching you.
And even if he could, he doesn’t want to. He’s only been in love with you since the moment Shinobu tugged you into a booth at a bar they all frequented. There hadnt really been any room for you to sit — not with seven of them already packed tightly onto the bench — but you’d taken one look at him and grinned, something that could only be described as mischief lighting your eyes.
“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” You’d asked him sweetly as you plopped your ass right down on his lap. “You look like you’re the comfiest one here.”
Sanemi, who was known for having a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, had been stunned into silence by the presence of a beautiful woman, perched on his knee like it was the most natural thing to sit on a stranger’s lap. His friends had been hard-pressed to suppress their smirks at the way Sanemi gaped at the back of your head, and he was fairly certain it was because you’d been so ballsy that you’d secured a permanent spot in their weekly bar rotation.
That had been over a year ago, and Sanemi’s infatuation with you grew deeper by the day.
Not that he’d ever done anything about it — even though, at times, it felt like you were all but baiting him into acting on his feelings. He wanted to believe the way your eyes followed him wherever he went in a room meant something, that your lingering touches were an invitation for more, but he could never bring himself to find out.
That cowardice, he supposed bitterly, was exactly what led him here, sitting alone at the suite room bar, watching as countless others flirted with you and you, right back.
A few times your eyes had tracked him across the room; one time, you looked as though you were about to push through the throng of people shoved into Tengen’s suite to come talk to him, but a hand on your bicep caught you and diverted your attention.
It’s then that Sanemi snaps. The moment he watches as the asshole in question pulls you against him for a slow grind, that jealous, monstrous thing in his chest rears its ugly head, growling and gnawing to be let free.
He’d hoped, for one pathetic moment, that you would push the man away, shake your head, do something that indicated you weren’t the least bit interested in him, no matter how fascinating his multi-colored eyes were, or how charming his feral grin was, but you didn’t. And the moment he sees the douchebag pull your hips flush against his, Sanemi knows he needs to get some air.
So with less grace than he knows he probably should show, Sanemi shoves his way towards the door leading out the suite and into the hallway.
Fuck it, he decides. He would go back to his room, several floors below, take a shower and hit the fucking hay. His birthday was bullshit, anyways.
He storms towards the elevators, slightly tipsy and certainly angry. He stabs a finger against the down button, his leg bouncing as he waits for the elevator to come and save him from his own party.
“What’re you doing out here, birthday boy?”
His stomach sinks to his ass at the familiar cadence of the voice behind him. Reluctantly, he turns and sees you making your way down the hallway wall, a smirk on your pretty lips and looking downright sinful in that flimsy, silvery dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs.
That damn elevator can’t come fast enough.
“Go back to the party,” he says tightly, though he still won’t look you directly in the eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time.”
You draw up short. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sanemi only scoffs and jabs frustratingly at the elevator button, willing for the telltale ding that will allow him to step into the lift and get far the fuck away from this rager he didn’t want.
From you.
“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” You push, resuming your advance on him and shortening the space between your bodies. “Sanemi —“
“Save it,” Sanemi bites, and because he cannot help himself, he adds, “I just don’t particularly feel like watching you spread your legs for some lowlife asshole who can’t be bothered to remember your name.”
You blink, comprehension dawning on your face before melting to anger. “That’s what you’re so pissy about?”
Sanemi silently begs the elevator to hurry the fuck up, because now you’re only a few feet away from him and he doesn’t want you to see his fraying restraint.
You fold your arms across your chest, hip jutting out to the side. “You’re acting like a bitch because some jackass tried to grind on me? Why do you even care?”
Sanemi dodges your question with ease.
“You’re the one who fuckin’ followed me out here.”
The elevator dings and Sanemi is damn near falling to his knees in gratitude at its timing. The double sliding doors have barely finished opening before he’s already inside, jamming his finger into the button marked 26, praying it’ll move faster than it arrived.
The doors start to close but a pair of hands slam against both sides of the doorway, preventing them from joining in the middle.
You stand in the center of the threshold, eyes bright and nostrils flaring, the elevator doors half-closed around you.
“It wasn’t easy to throw this party together y’know,” you snap at him, and dully, Sanemi thinks the glare you give him is strong enough to wither plants. “Everyone went out of their way to try and make you feel special, but you’ve been nothing but an asshole about it.”
“I didn’t ask you all to do this — I begged you not to,” Sanemi retorts just as hotly, his arms folding across his chest. “I didn’t want a fuckin’ party.”
“Well, what do you want?”
the silence that stretches between you is more telling than any answer he could have given. By the way your lips part, you seem to realize it at the same moment he does, and that’s when Sanemi knows he’s fucked.
The two of you stare at one another for a moment, the weight of Sanemi’s unspoken admission hanging above your heads like the sword of Damocles.
But then, the blade drops, and it must impale you both, because suddenly your hands fall from the elevator doors and are tangling in his hair at the same moment Sanemi’s fingers latch onto your waist, and your mouths slam together in a fiery clash of lips and teeth.
The elevator doors slide shut behind you right as Sanemi presses you up against the paneled wall and slides his tongue into your mouth.
At the first stroke of his tongue against yours, you tense, and for one panicked moment, he fears he’s gone too far. But then you’re melting against him, and the way you tug on his hair and whimper his name against his lips makes Sanemi loses his goddamn mind.
Time stands still and there are no thoughts in Sanemi’s brain but the feel of your hands running down his arms, his chest, pushing under the open collar of his shirt to dance along his burning skin.
They can’t get to the 26th floor fast enough, no matter how fast the numbers tick past, bringing them closer and closer to privacy —
The elevator jolts to a stop, somewhere between the 29th and 28th floors, and does not move.
It’s just his fucking luck; the girl of his dreams is pressed flush against him, her lips at his ear as she begs for him, and the goddamn elevator has forgotten how to work. If his hands weren’t so busy pushing under the hem of that slip you call a dress to fondle the curve of your ass, he might’ve put a hole through the one of the doors.
He punches the button for the 26th floor again and again, his sanity fraying with each urgent jab of his fingers, yet the elevator still does not move.
If the idea that the pair of you are stranded in a metal box of death suspended over twenty stories high bothers you, Sanemi wouldn’t be able to tell — not when you’ve decided to turn your attention someplace else.
“What’re you —“ Sanemi’s voice is hardly more than a croak as your hands busy themselves with the buckle on his belt, fumbling and tugging until the leather fastened around his hips gives way.
“Shhh!” A press of your index finger to his lips silences him. “Birthday boys shouldn’t worry!”
Your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and suddenly they’re following you down as you slide to your knees before him.
Sanemi’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the way your half-lidded gaze drifts from his face down his body, coming to rest on the tent of his briefs, jutting out from between his thighs.
Your voice is syrupy and warm as you whisper, “I guess I should let you have your first gift,”
Sanemi forgets how to breathe when you peer back up at him, your eyes suddenly round and wide; he nearly forgets how to stand when you lean forward and press your cheek against the side of his cock where it strains against his underwear.
Sanemi sucks in sharply through clenched teeth at the sudden rush of cold elevator air against the heated, sensitive skin of his bare cock, your fingers having tugged him free from the confines of his briefs.
“F-first?” He can’t stop the way the question stutters out, not when your lips, just barely gazing against him, drag from his base to his tip. The soft exhale of your warm breath up his length has his hands shooting behind him for something — anything — to grip.
You hum in confirmation, and Sanemi’s vision almost blacks out when your tongue peeks past your glossy, red-stained lips to trail over his leaking head.
“But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get to your room before you can unwrap the next one.”
Sanemi swears he’ll set the entire hotel building on fire if the elevator doesn’t start working in the next fucking minute. His vicious promise, however, fades to the back of his mind, along with every other coherent thought he’s ever had as your lips part around his head and you take him into your mouth.
“Holy fuck,” Sanemi hisses and his head falls back against the elevator wall with a dull thump.
You him pleasantly around his cock and Sanemi nearly cums right there, the vibrations from your mouth too sweet, adding gasoline to the already raging inferno of his desire.
At first, you keep your hands primly folded behind you, only allowing your mouth to work his shaft. Every time you slide up off him, you curl your tongue against the underside of his cock and every time, Sanemi has to draw upon every morsel of self-restraint he possesses to not buck further down your throat.
But soon, your hands pat their way to his, and you bring his hands against either side of your head. You hold them there for only a moment, just long enough for Sanemi’s stomach to flip as he realizes what you’re giving him permission to do.
You peer up at him with those big eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, and he knows you’re trying to kill him.“Motherfucking — Y/N,” he moans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck.”
With his grip in your hair secure, Sanemi begins to fuck your mouth. His cock slides in and out of your heat, every push shoving a little more of himself further into your mouth. You only relax your throat, your tongue still curling against the underside of his shaft in a way that makes Sanemi see white.
Sanemi’s hold on your hair tightens. “Fucking take it,” he pants, hips bucking against your face. “My little cock whore.” From his position over you, Sanemi can see the way his words make you squirm with need, your answering moan long, and deep.
Your hands flutter to the side of his thighs, and Sanemi almost winces at the prick of your nails against his skin. But despite the saliva steadily trailing down your chin and the guttural sounds choking in the back of your throat, you’re tugging him closer, your fingers inching around to grip his backside, pressing him closer and closer to you until your nose brushes his groin.
The elevator jolts with movement and resumes its descent, but neither of you notice. All Sanemi can focus on his the way his tip bumps against the back of your throat, and how your cheeks hollow against him as he ruts into your mouth.
Sanemi makes a strangled noise in the vague shape of your name. “I-I’m gonna —“
You only need to swallow around him once before Sanemi is filling your throat with his cum. With a deep groan, his head drops back, his hand splayed across the back of your skull, keeping your nose pressed against his base as he rocks his hips, his cock twitching violently in your mouth.
His eyes fly open when he feels the wetness from your tears against the sensitive skin of his groin, and he’s quick to pull out of your mouth. Your hands bracing against his thighs as you gulp down air in heavy, shuddering gasps.
“Fuck — I’m sorry,” his hands smooth worryingly over your hair. “That was too rough, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-“
Your head snaps up, and Sanemi feels a brief moment of panic at the sight of your mascara, streaked down your cheeks from an onslaught of tears. Bht then you’re smiling at him, a big, triumphant, radiant smile, and Sanemi feels almost as dumb in the head as he had when your mouth was around his cock.
The elevator slows and Sanemi hastily tucks himself back into his pants. The moment his belt is refastened, his hand is on your arm, gently guiding you up to stand right as a ding! sounds, and the doors slide open to reveal the 26th floor.
You step out first, turning back to him expectantly. “Well? What room?”
Sanemi’s heart falls to his ass as he beholds the assured confidence blazing in your eyes. “2602,” he manages to croak.
You tug him out of the elevator and for a few moments, he’s dumbstruck by his good fortune. It almost feels like a dream, that your here, leading him down the winding hallway of this oversized and overpriced hotel, eager to get back to his room and do whatever the hell it is that’s lit that fire in your eyes.
Sanemi’s awe is short-lived, replaced by a crashing wave of need and boiling desire, hot and furiously bubbling under his skin. His hand tightens around yours and he jerks you around, spinning you until you’re caged tightly between the hallway wall and his chest.
His mouth attacks your neck, biting and sucking his claim into your skin, no matter how temporary. Your leg hikes up to hook around his hips, your foot pressed against his calf, and it seems neither of you care that you’re very much still on an open hallway as opposed to the privacy of his hotel room.
“I’m not holding back with you,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat. His hands slide hotly down your sides, fingers toying under the absurdly short hem of your dress, kneading just beneath the curve of your ass. “You asked me what I wanted — I want this. You.”
Your sultry giggle in his ear chokes off as Sanemi’s finger dips under your ass from behind to run firmly over your clothed slit. A breathy fuck falls from his lips as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.
“That’s your main gift,” you’re tugging on his hair again until you’ve pulled him away from your throat so that you can slant your mouth over his. “Me. However you want me.”
You take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck, and Sanemi swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “As many times as you want.”
“And in whatever positions you want.”
Sanemi has never been a particularly religious man, but he thinks he’s about one nanosecond from dropping to his knees in worship of you.
Sanemi wastes no time in hauling you over his shoulder, throwing any and all cares to the wind of being seen as he slaps your ass and books the remaining trek back to his hotel room. Youre lucky his room is only around the corner, given that you won’t stop groping his ass.
Somehow, Sanemi manages to fumble for his keycard and swipes it, and he has you inside his room and pushed up against the door before it even fully latches shut.
You’re moaning and panting just from his hands, and Sanemi can feel himself already growing hard once more. His lips are feverish as they roam from your lips, to your neck, and down to the hem of your dress concealing your soft breasts from sight. His hands are even greedier, bunching the tissue-paper-like fabric of you dress between his fingers as he explores the curves and dips of your body.
“God you feel so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”
From the way your hands drag down his chest, fingers sliding between the undone buttons of his shirt to explore his chest, he knows you’re just as starved as he is.
With a slight whine, you push him back, breaking your kiss. Sanemi looks at you, but the question building on his tongue does as you kick your heels off, your fingers flying to the straps of your dress.
Sanemi feels locked in place by the heat of your gaze, and he swears he can feel his pulse tick in his neck. One by one, you push the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the satiny material fall down your waist and puddle around your feet.
If Sanemi thought he was losing his mind before, he knows for certain that he likely needs to be committed now.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sanemi’s stare is unabashed and gaping. For beneath that flimsy scrap of shiny fabric pretending to be a dress was not your bare skin, but dark green lace and mesh and corset paneling.
A teddy.
You twist slightly so you’re looking over your shoulder, fully exposing your ass and the thong-like back of your one-piece to the slack-jawed birthday boy.
“I figured you would like this one.”
Your words knock Sanemi right off his axis, his head spinning so fast, it’s a miracle it’s still attached to his shoulders.
You’d worn fucking lingerie for his party.
For him.
You’d gone out of your way to wear something you thought he would like on the mere chance you’d end up as you were now, here in his room. You’d planned for it.
You didn’t leave him any other choice; he was going to fucking ruin you.
His hand flies behind his neck to grip his shirt, ripping it over his head and throwing it unceremoniously to the side.
Sanemi doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your pupils blowing wide at the sight of the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.
He kicks off his shoes and his hands shove his pants quickly down his legs, grateful that he hadn’t bothered to refasten his belt or button after the stunt you pulled in the elevator.
“C’mere,” he orders, roughly. Left in just his black briefs, he lunges forward to take you into his arms once more.
Your peal of laughter as Sanemi throws you onto his king-sized hotel bed is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He wastes no time pouncing on you, eager to reconnect your lips, to kiss you until you’re left as breathless and wanting as he is.
Between messy kisses, Sanemi’s hands make their way down your body, squeezing and marveling at the way your body seems made for his touch. And as if the feeling of your skin beneath his palms isn’t enough to drive him wild, you’re so responsive to his touch. Every stroke of his hands seems to bring you alive until you’re practically thrumming with want and begging him for more.
His fingers slide over your lace-covered cunt and he swears at the dampness he feels clean through the fabric of your teddy.
“Eager, are we?” He hums, his lips following down the path he traced with his hands. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”
Your hips buck impatiently against him as his face settles between your thighs. He grins at your desperation, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your inner thigh until he reaches your covered slit.
He lets his tongue peek out between his lips and drags it over until he reaches your other thigh, groaning at the faint taste of you dampening the lace.
Sanemi’s fingers push under the edge of the teddy, a breath blowing past his lips when he connects with your dripping cunt.
“Look how fucking soaked you are,” he says in awe, marveling the way your slick coats his fingers. “Is this all for me?”
You groan, pushing your hips down to grind harder against his hand.
“Just fuck me already,” you huff. “I’m ready now.”
Sanemi tsks softly at you. “You need to ask a lot nicer than that, sweet girl.”
Your impatient demands taper off into soft moans as Sanemi sinks a single finger into your entrance, his cock growing impossibly hard at the feeling of you clenching easily around him.
Sanemi practically trembles at the thought of sinking into your heat, of how you might feel clenching and pulsing around his length while he fucks you the way he’s been dreaming since he met you.
But while he might be pent up, Sanemi isn’t so much of an asshole that he wouldn’t make sure you were good and ready to take him.
So he simply tugs the crotch of your teddy aside and without any further teasing or torture, he latches his mouth to your cunt with a deep moan.
As his tongue darts between your folds, Sanemi realizes that all the cake in the world couldn’t compare to how fucking sweet your pussy tastes.
You cry out, his name stuttering out between a staccato of moans and cooes for more. Your hands twist in his hair, alternating between pulling his face closer to your core and pushing him away, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear.
Sanemi thinks he could get drunk on your taste. His eyes open to watch the way your face pinches, how your jaw goes slack to let his name drip from your tongue.
Your hands unwind from his hair to tug at the sinful draping of lace fitted against your body like a glove. “Off,” you whimper. “Off.”
It takes him a moment to realize what you want. But after another plea of “off,” Sanemi’s hands are already working to push the teddy down your lithe form.
“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he soothes, dragging the lingerie off your legs. Sanemi swears softly at the sight of you, bare and spread out on his mattress, your body pliant and ready for him to use however he chooses.
“S-Sanemi,” he can’t suppress his grin at the apparent whine in your tone. “I feel so — so empty —“
He doesn’t try to hold in the groan resounding deep from his chest. Youre asking — practically begging — for his cock, and Sanemi doesn’t have the willpower to deny you.
“Fuck this,” he snarls, and suddenly your body is caged under his, his hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of your thighs. “I need to be in you.”
His lips dance feverishly up the side of your neck until they reconnect with yours.
For a moment, your kiss slows to something more sensual and passionate, as opposed to the heated and frantic kisses you’d exchanged earlier. The sigh you exhale against his mouth is the sexiest thing Sanemi has ever heard, and the feeling of your fingers latching in his hair is a sensation he never wants to forget.
Your tongue swipes along his lower lip in a silent request for entry that he’s only too happy to grant. You moan against the taste of yourself on his tongue.
Sanemi knows he’s been head over heels for you for a long time, but the way your tongue dances languidly with his has him utterly undone.
If you wanted to, he’d let you swallow him whole.
Your kiss melts into something more needy and frantic, and Sanemi feels your wetness grind down against his thigh, a pleading whimper building on your lips. With an eagerness that makes his head spin, your legs shift to lock around his waist, and one of the hands you’d had latched in his hair drifts down his abdomen until it finds his cock, heavy and hot in your palm.
“I’ve got a condom —“ Sanemi manages between desperate kisses. “In my wallet —“
But your legs tighten around his hips and your hand pumps harder at his stiffened length. “Don’t need it,” you murmur against his lips. “On the pill.”
Sanemi thinks he might pass out. “Fuck — are you sure?”
You nod, eyes bright and alert even in spite of your sleepy, fucked-out smile. “Wanna feel you, baby.”
Don’t have to fucking tell him twice. Especially not when you’re calling him baby, even if it’s a pet name you’ll only use on him for the night.
With deft hands, Sanemi flips you so that your front is pressed against the mattress. You scramble beneath him to plant your knees, raising your ass high in the air, your cunt held out in an offering he could never refuse.
He gives one of your pert ass cheeks an appreciative smack before he shuffles forward on his knees. He rests one foot on the outside of your leg, parallel with your hip, and slots his other knee between your parted thighs. One hand grips the base of his cock while the other kneads at your hip, holding you steady while also keeping your limbs relaxed as he lines his tip up with your dripping entrance.
“Unless you say otherwise, ‘M goin’ hard,” he warns, his voice rougher than gravel. “Been waiting too long to do this.”
Ever the devilish little minx, you wiggle your hips back against him, and his breath chokes in his throat when your wet heat catches him at his tip.
You look back over your shoulder and Sanemi’s gaze darkens at the challenge in your eyes. “Give me everything you’ve got.”
Sanemi decides to respond to your taunt not with his words, but with his body. In a single, fluid movement, he plunges his cock deep into your heated core, his fingers tightening around your hips with bruising force.
“Jesus fuck,” he pants once he’s fully embedded to the hilt inside your warmth.
It’s unreal; the feeling of your silken, pleasure-soaked walls moulding around his cock like you were made to take him sends a bolt lightning surging down his spine, making him shudder.
A cross between a cry and a scream tears from your throat, muffled only by the press of your mouth against the starchy blankets of his hotel bed. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you want him to go slow for a bit since he knows he’s a larger than average. but then you’re throwing your hips back against him, circling and grinding and mewling for more.
“Fuck me,” you moan. “Fuck me, Sanemi — please.”
“God fucking damn,” Sanemi hisses through clenched teeth. And he knows he can’t deny you, not when your whining so prettily for him; nor when your pussy feels this fucking good.
He draws back, his cock sliding out of you until only his tip remains. He lingers there, for just a hair’s breadth of a moment, teasing.
Your impatient whine doesn’t last long as Sanemi slams you back onto him, the sound choking off in your throat. He doesn’t give you time to recover; he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips and drives his cock into you again and again, pounding a relentless rhythm into you that has you sobbing into the mattress.
“Yes, yes, yes!” You blubber, your fingers fisted into the blankets below for purchase as you push yourself back to meet his frenzied thrusts.
Sanemi can’t tear his eyes away from where his cock, shiny with your wetness, disappears in and out of you. “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well,” he says in awe. Your pussy is gripping him like a vice, practically sucking him back into your heat. “You like letting me use you, huh?”
Sanemi shifts so that his weight is on the knee resting beside your leg, allowing him to push harder and deeper into your cunt. You try to lift your head, but Sanemi’s hand leaves its place on your hip to press down on the back of your neck, squeezing lightly.
“Oh f-fuck,” you groaned, voice slightly muffled from where your face was half-pressed into the mattress. “Oh god — just like that — D-daddy, yes —“
Sanemi’s hips stutter. Daddy. No one has ever called him that in the bedroom before, but fuck if it doesn’t somehow make him harder than a fucking diamond.
Especially because it seems like it slipped out of you without much thought, your eyes too busy staring at the back of your skull as every punishing thrust of Sanemi’s cock into your pliant cunt makes your body bounce against the mattress.
He likes it. A lot.
“Should’ve known you’d have a daddy kink, filthy little thing,” he groans, his hand reaching under you to toy with your swollen clit.
You only moan in response, and Sanemi can’t help but to swirl his fingers around that nub, savoring the way it makes your thighs quiver beneath you.
The hand still pressing against the back of your neck slides up to grip your hair, and Sanemi pulls your head up from the bed. “Do you call everyone ‘daddy,’ sweetness, or just those who fuck you the way you like it?”
“Not everyone” you gasp, voice strained against the tight arch of your neck. “Just you — ah! Only you.”
With a growl, Sanemi’s arm locks around your middle and hauls you up until your back is flush against his chest. One hand wraps around your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks to keep your head back as he continues pounding into you.
“Look at you,” his exhales hotly against your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe. “Daddy’s pretty little toy.”
Your thighs quake in their effort to keep you up. Your moans raise an octave, warbling out of your throat as you settle heavily against him, utterly helpless against the pleasure rolling through your body.
Sanemi’s hand drops from your jaw to drag teasingly down your torso. When he reaches your lower belly, he presses his palm flat, the pressure allowing the blunt head of his cock to rub against that sensitive spot that makes you sing his name.
“You feel that, baby?” And the whine that slips out of you is one he wishes he could bottle up. “That’s all me — that’s how deeply I’m fucking you.”
He’s practically holding you up, your limbs little more than jelly, but he doesn’t mind. He only increases the pressure of his hand, rubbing slightly over the softness of your stomach.
“And that’s where I’m gonna fill you up, ‘til you’re nice and full, hm?”
A stilted cry of his name is dragged from your lips, and Sanemi swears he’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let him.
It’s not lost on him that this is likely a one-time thing; that you’ll likely leave his hotel room and the two of you won’t speak of it again, but he can’t find it within himself to give a shit.
It doesn’t matter if this is just a slightly drunken hook up — it doesn’t matter to him if it’s just sex. You’re letting him use your body for his pleasure, and that thought is enough to make his brain turn to liquid between his ears.
Sanemi falls back against the bed, bringing you with him, your back still pressed against his chest. He winds an arm around one of your thighs, holding it open to allow himself to continue fucking up into you with the speed of a racehorse.
“God you’re so fuckin’ tight — don’t want me to leave, do you, precious?”
He chuckles in your ear, catching your lobe between his teeth. His hand wedges between your thighs to play with your clit again, and the way your pussy flutters around him signals that you’re right on the precipice of your orgasm.
The first of the night, if he had anything to say about it.
“Maybe I should make you my own personal cocksleeve — would you like that, sweetheart?” You’re mewling, nodding frantically as you squirm and thrash atop him.
“Would you like to sit on Daddy’s cock all day, keep him nice and warm?”
“Yes!” You sob, and Sanemi’s fingers circle your clit even harder, determined to to make you cum. “Yes, ‘Nemi, please! I’ll be your good girl — I’ll be so good —“
Sanemi’s pace falters slightly at your words, a new idea — a wicked idea, forming fast in his mind. “You will, huh?”
He abruptly pulls out of you, though the anguished cry that rattles out of you at the loss of his warmth tugs at his heartstrings. After all, you’d been so close.
Sanemi wastes no time flipping you under him, hooking both your legs over his muscled shoulders until the underside of your thighs press flat against his chest.
“You’ll cum when I say so,” he shoves his painfully hard cock back into your pulsing warmth, his knuckles turning white under his grip against the rumpled blankets as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling of being sheathed back inside you once more.
“And you’re gonna fuckin’ look at me when i fill you up,” Sanemi snarls between ferocious snaps of his hips. “I wanna see that gorgeous face when I cum inside this pretty little pussy.”
“Yes! Yes s-sir.”
“Yeah? And who’s fucking you this good?”
“Y-you,”
He ducks his head down to nip sharply at your breast. “Try again.”
“You are — D-daddy,”
Sanemi’s pace only increases. “Still not what I’m looking for, princess,” he’s borderline cruel and he knows it, but he also knows what he wants. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”
You don’t answer; you can’t, given how slack your jaw has gone, your mouth frozen in a perfect “o” as Sanemi pushes the head of his cock right at that spot deep within you that makes you seize down on him hard enough that he sees stars.
He growls your name and when you still don’t respond, he snaps his hips particularly hard against yours.
“Say it.”
His hand shoves between your bodies, and Sanemi pinches your clit harshly between this thumb and index finger.
“Sanemi!” You wail, writhing under him. His fingers rub soothing circles against your clit, though the relentless thrust of his cock does not ease.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, and the pressure of his fingers against your throbbing nub increases. “Now cum on this fucking cock.”
That does it.
Your back arcs sharply up off the mattress, thighs tightening around his hips as your cunt clenching around him with earth-shattering force. Sanemi feels a smug wave of pride as a surge of fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin.
You fall back against the bed, limp and spent, but Sanemi isn’t done with you yet; you won’t be, not until Sanemi has left his mark.
He shifts over you, his full weight pressing you down into the mattress; his hands pushing your knees up until they’re level with your chest. You sigh and hum, still wading through the haze of your orgasm, but given the way you let your thighs spread a little wider, you’re aware enough to know that Sanemi is readying you to take his release.
It’s not enough; Sanemi doesn’t want you lost in the aftermath of your euphoria — he wants you crying out for his.
His hand grips your face, your cheeks squishing together beneath his fingers as he forces your head to tilt toward him. Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused before the clouds part and your attention is locked wholly on him.
“Beg for it,” he grits out, his hand smacking against your clit until you howled. “Beg for my cum.”
“Please!” Your cry is shrill and desperate, your hands tightening weakly around his shoulders. “Please f-fill me up — oh, Sanemi —“
He nearly loses it at the way you say his name, like it’s some damn prayer and he, your salvation, but he holds back. It’s not enough — he wants you as filthy and wanton as him.
“Use your words,” his words leave him in a single, inexorable command.
Your lower lip wobbles. “Your cum — please, please fill this pussy up. Fill me up, fuck it into me —“
Sanemi cuts off your babbling with a single, bruising kiss. He feels his balls tighten, and the prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, signaling just how close he is to nirvana.
His hand finds one of yours where it clings to his shoulder, a fruitful attempt to anchor yourself, and he pulls it away. Sanemi presses your hand back against the mattress, interlacing his fingers with yours.
Your pussy flutters around him in time with your thumb stroking over his knuckle, and that’s all it takes.
“Oh fuck —“ Sanemi grunts before he feels himself explode. With a strangled yell, Sanemi’s hips slam into yours, pushing his cock as deep as it can possibly go, and his release crashes into him with mind-blowing force.
it’s the hardest and the most he’s ever come in his entire life. Nothing else has ever or will ever compare to this.
But even as his release spurts heavily inside your honeyed core, Sanemi doesn’t relent in his pace. His hips keep rolling steadily into you, prolonging his release to the point his toes curl, and he wonders whether his nose might start bleeding.
The corners of your mouth tilt up, a pleased groan vibrating loud and wanton in your throat as you feel him fuck his hot seed right into the Eden of your body.
Despite the mind-numbing pleasure of his orgasm, Sanemi won’t let himself look away. The face you make as he fills you up is the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.
Sanemi stays buried in your heat for several more moments as he comes down from his high, his head dropping into the crook of your shoulder. With a grunt, he pulls out, dropping down next to you in a flurry of messy blankets and pillows.
You push yourself to your side, a hand coming to push the sweat-dampened ends of his bangs from his eyes. “Good birthday?” You tease, your cheeks flushed bright red, your eyes bright.
“The best,” Sanemi agrees, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail of you and your post-sex glow to memory.
The two of you lay next to one another for a little while, talking and quietly laughing. Neither one of you seems eager to leave the bed, and Sanemi in particular finds himself hoping today never ends.
Eventually, nature calls and he excuses himself — reluctantly — to the bathroom. When he emerges, he’s greeted with the sight of your ass, bare and exposed as you nestle into the bed, one leg kicking lazily up into the air behind you.
Fuck, you’re too beautiful, and he is far too weak.
He approaches the side of the bed, stretching out one hand to drag teasingly down your spine, until he reaches your ass, knuckles kneading the soft flesh.
His eyes flit to the small clock perched on the hotel nightstand. Sanemi’s grin turns lupine as he reads time reflected by the green-tinted digits.
Sanemi’s fingers skirt down to your ankle, gripping it firmly in his hand. He tugs you over the side of the bed until your head dangles off the edge, your hair stretching towards the ground. “Looks like it’s still my birthday, darling. I ain’t finished enjoying my present yet,” he grips the base of his half-hard cock and taps it against your lips. “And I’ve been dying to cum all over this pretty face of yours.”
—-
True to his word, Sanemi takes him time ravishing his birthday gift. When the clock on the nightstand finally reads 12:01 AM, he flops down next to you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath.
You lay beside him, panting in tandem with him from the exertion of the night’s activities. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t sticky as a result of the heady mixture of your sweat and Sanemi’s cum.
You feel his eyes searing into you as you trail a finger through the milky white splattered across your chest — a favorite place of his to cum, as you’d learned, second only to spilling inside of you.
Sanemi hardly holds back a whimper at the way you bring it to your lips, letting your tongue lick your finger clean of his pleasure.
“You’re trying to drive me wild, woman,” he throws a tired arm over his face, shrouding his eyes. “You torture all your hookups like this?”
He’s surprised at how quickly you sit up in bed, your eyes flashing.
“Hookup?”
Sanemi props a fist under his cheek. “Well, yeah,” he winces slightly, searching for more careful words. “I don’t expect anything from you. I appreciate the birthday surprise, though.”
Your gaze is leveled, and your voice even. “I don’t buy lingerie for one-night stands, Sanemi. That shit is an investment.”
His eyes blow wide, and he feels the erratic thrum of his heart stuttering in his throat.
“I want you,” you say firmly. “And I had every intention when I followed you in here tonight for this —“ your hand waves back and forth between your chests. “— to continue.”
It’s a miracle Sanemi is able to speak at all. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
You grin. “Well, now that you’ve fucked me, I guess you should take me on a date.” You pause, trailing one delicate finger down his chest. “But I won’t make you wait until we’ve been on three before I let you fuck me again.”
Your hand dips below the edge of the blanket and glides teasingly over his cock, already beginning to stir once more. “You’re far too delicious.”
Sanemi snatches your hand and rolls you under him before you can blink, your answering giggle the sweetest music ever to grace his ears.
“Y’know, in other parts of the world, it’s still the 29th,” he murmurs huskily, grazing his lips against yours. “So by that logic…”
You nod, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. “We’re obligated to keep celebrating.”
Sanemi’s lips are already trailing down your body, savoring the taste of himself on your skin. He settles back between your legs, marveling at the way your thighs fall to the side so easily to accommodate his mass.
He presses a sweet kiss against your clit. “You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you, darlin’?”
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icejjfishesz · 8 months ago
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𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐓 ❞ 𓄼˚ ▍ P.B.
❛ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆             ━━  based off this post by @iminlovewithkatemartin ! ❜
❛ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁                ━━  literally just sex...feeling like a whore rn, lmao. top!paige. punishment ig?? bratty reader. ❜
❛ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁         ━━  1.4k! ❜
❛ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲      ━━  prompt was TOO GOOD so hopefully i did it some soft of justice! ❜
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paige was never the first to leave a party. she was often the center of attention –– a magnet that attracted the focus of all those around her. naturally, you loved that about her…her essence and simply seeing her thriving in her element. but there were times where you wanted her all to yourself. times like now, where she chatted her ass off and all you could focus on was the sound of her voice. or when 1am comes and goes and all you think about is how good she smelled as she pulls your body closer to hers. paige is an anomaly. somehow always managing to give you all her attention yet making it feel like not enough. paige made you greedy and she knew it. it’s evident in the way she rubs your thigh a little too high as she’s sitting next to you but still never looks in your direction. it was like a mutual secret, one between only you and her, she knew how badly you wanted her right now but she was gonna make you wait for it.
by 2am you’ve grown antsy, barely replying to paige when she speaks to you. she knows you’re ready to go, she knows you’re almost too horny to function. she almost feels bad at you when she sees that slight frown plastered on your lips or when she notices the way your hips shift awkwardly every once in a while.
she says something to you, a cute little smile on her lips that you honestly hate right now. you want to leave. you don’t even hear what she said, not as if you planned on responding anyways. then you roll your eyes. paige blinks a few times, a little confused. 
“baby?” her voice is gentle, genuinely concerned but she’s been feeling on your thigh for over an hour and she knows how bad you want her. you understand that giving her even a slight attitude won’t work out in your favor…but you don't care. you’re upset and you want her to know it.
“what?” the sass is evident. unable to be underplayed or considered inscrutable. it takes paige aback and the few people within earshot all look at each other because they catch it too. you wanted her to know you were pissed? well, now she knows.
paige clenches her jaw, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “is it time to go, baby?”
you shiver, the hairs on your neck staring when she lowers her voice like that. the words, if heard by an untrained ear, might be considered sweet. they could be mistaken as  paige understanding you (which she does) and being sweet about it (which is most definitely not how she planned on handling you). but you knew better. you knew the words were a warning. they translate roughly to ‘you wanna fix your fucking tone before we have a probelm?’ it’s her way of giving you a second chance. 
“it’s been time to go.” she extended an olive branch but you don’t take it. you’ll pay for that later.
paige simply grabs your hand and quickly says goodbye to a few people as she leads you to her car. she opens your door for you despite being annoyed with you before she shuts it and walks around the other side. you can’t take your eyes off of her as she starts the car. neither of you speak. you sealed your own fate and you know it.
the drive is tense and silent. it seems like every passing second heart beats just a little bit faster. you could only imagine the price you’d have to pay for your little stunt.
which is exactly how you ended up here, on paige’s lap as her hands roamed over your hips. “i’m sorry…” you groan but you both know you don’t mean it.
“yeah? for what?” paige hums casually. as though anything about this situation is casual. she’s shirtless and you’re naked on her lap begging for her to fuck you. the view seems familiar, she’s had you like this one way or another a million times over but she never tires of it. she wants nothing more than to lay you down and shove her face in between your thighs but she refrains. she ignores your wandering hands, ignores the whine in your voice, ignores the need in your eyes…she needs to teach you a lesson.
“i didn't even do anything!” you grumble.
“you rolled your eyes at me and gave me unnecessary attitude.” she gives you a look that says ‘be serious’. you go to respond but then you feel her thigh tense, it makes you moan which she chuckles about.
“i’m not even touching you yet…”
“shut up.” you grumble, unable to stop yourself from grinding into her clothed thigh. she can feel the warmth even through her pants as you rub against her. it takes absolutely everything in here not to say fuck teaching you a lesson to just do everything that she knew would make you moan her name. “please…i need you.”
“it’s not good enough, hm?” she mocks you. “shouldn’t have had all that fucking attitude then. next time just tell me you wanna leave.”
you desperately try and find some way to vindicate yourself but your mind is blank, you decide it’s probably best to just focus on the task at hand. you grind against her, feeling yourself get wetter the more she touches you in every place except where you need her. it feels good. the friction against your clit making you whine…it isn’t enough and she knows it. “please, baby…”
“please what?”
“please make me come…i can’t do it like this.” she adores the pout on face, it renders her unable to stop herself from locking her lips with her own.
she bites her lip, basking in the weight of it all. the weight of your body on top of hers isn't heavy, but the knowledge that she is completely in control of you is. her hands effortlessly move around your body, reminding you of just how well she knows your body –– how easily she could make you feel good. she’d spent over a year tracing every single part of your body with her hands and mouth, she’s memorized you completely. she knows exactly how to tease you. 
she kisses you with everything in her, swallowing every sound you make as you grind deeper into her thigh. you can smell her shampoo and you tangle your fingers in her hair. she trails her hand down from your hip to between your legs. she feels just how sucked you are from grinding on her thigh.
she laughs in your face, pulling her lips away from yours and licking away the spit that coats her lips. “you’re so wet…” she slides a finger through your fold and back up to caress your clit. she’s mocking your need, acting as if she wasn’t just as wet as you are. she knows you want it. but she wants you to need it.
“cause you’ve been teasing me all night…” you whisper, practically panting. your hands are braced on her shoulders and lift yourself off her thigh so she can touch you easier. she pushes her long finger in and out of you so slow that it’s cruel. but you cling onto her. after all that teasing, it’s enough to have you reeling.
you shut your eyes, grinding into her hand and then she stills her fingers, making you whine again. “no, please…keep going.”
she brings her face down to such a hickey just above your collarbone, you can’t help but buck into her hand in frustration.
“keep doing that.” she mumbles into your skin, letting her teeth graze against you and nearly making you topple over.
“what?” you’re looking at her expectantly, she can look in your eyes and tell you’re waiting for her to do it for you but she’s having none of it. you’re probably making a mess of her fingers, your soaked pussy dripping at how badly you crave her. what has she done to you?  
“nuh uh, you wanna come then go ahead” she laughs in your face, sitting back and politely pressing her thumb into your clit just to watch your hips jolt at the pressure. you feel your shoulders slump when she smiles up at you the way she does when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you. 
you whimper again, unable to process her words properly when all you hear is she’s not gonna make you cum. “paige…” you’re so pent up you’d do pretty much anything she asked you to do right now. you can’t even speak, only focused on the next words that leave her mouth. 
“…lemme see you ride that shit, baby…”
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opiopal · 3 months ago
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random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)
imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."
once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"
imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.
imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.
You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)
imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.
imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.
Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.
thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months ago
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Hiii I saw ur recent post and idk if this is any help but what about an Ethan Landry x Carpenter! Reader smut? So basically reader is Sam and Tara’s little sister, she’s like one year younger anyways it can be something where they all go to the same college and are in the same friend group. And the reader has always had a crush on Ethan since she got accepted in Blackmore with her sisters and her and Ethan are really close like best friends so she doesn’t wanna ruin the friendship, but at the frat party they all decided to play spin the bottle and reader gets ethan and yk they make out but then after the party Ethan starts avoiding reader cuz he’s always liked her to he js got in his feelings and thought it was awkward. But after like reader cries to Tara and Sam and stuff Tara knocks sense into Ethan and they makeup and confess and well yk what they do next lmao but this js popped in my head and ur my favorite Ethan writer so pleaseeee consider writing this tyyy🩷
Hiiiii💕 This is the first thing I've fully written in a while, so I hope you like it!!
All I Want - Ethan Landry x Fem!Carpenter!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: See ask box lmao. I probably ruined the suspense but that's okay💀
Contains: Underage drinking, Oral - f receiving, p in v (My brain is done for the day so if I'm missing anything, let me know.)
W/C: 7.7k
A/N: I'm still a little rusty, but this was the first thing I've written in forever that wasn't absolute fucking clown shoes lmaoooo. Also, if you see any spelling/grammatical errors, no you didn't 💀
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When you moved in with your sisters right before you started your freshman year at Blackmore, the last person everyone expected you to get the closest to was Ethan. He wasn’t the most social, but that’s what drew you to him. He was really quiet the night you first met him, which only made you want to talk to him even more. You talked for hours, learning so much about each other as he came out of his shell, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.
Sam was just as protective over you as she was with Tara, and once she noticed you and Ethan were spending a lot of time together, she cornered him in the kitchen one night when he came out of your room to get a drink during one of your many study sessions.
“What’s going on with you and my sister?” Sam questioned, as Ethan’s cheeks turned bright red. He felt so awkward and uncomfortable as she stared him down. “Are you going to answer me?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just friends.”
“There better not be anything going on,” Sam warned, “And I know you stayed over in her room the other night. I’m not okay with that.”
“Nothing happened,” he said, as he glanced at the floor. “It won’t happen again.”
“I swear, Ethan, if you try anything with her,” Sam got out, before Ethan got really frustrated with the situation.
“I can’t be her friend without wanting to get in her pants?” Ethan questioned, as Sam was taken aback at his tone change. “You’ve known me for a year now, and I know you worry about her just like Tara, but do you really think I’d do that?”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, as she relaxed a little, realizing she was in the wrong for questioning him like that. “She’s been hurt before, and I don’t want her to go through that again.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, but I just want to be her friend. Guys and girls are allowed to be friends without there being something else going on,” Ethan said, as she sighed and nodded. “Do you care if I study in her room with her? Or would you rather have us in the living room so you can keep an eye on us?”
“You can study in her room,” she said, as Ethan walked away from her with his drink in his hand.
Ethan wasn’t lying when he said that nothing had happened between the two of you, but he was lying when he said he just wanted to be your friend. The only person he’d mentioned his crush on you to was Chad, who immediately shut it down, knowing that Sam would have no problem killing Ethan and disposing of his body if he ever did try anything with you. Chad knew Ethan was a good guy, but with how skeptical Sam was over his relationship with Tara at first, even though they’d been friends since childhood, she knew it would take a lot longer for her to even begin to warm up to the idea of you and Ethan being together. If that wasn’t enough of a reason to keep him from saying anything to you about the way he felt, the possibility of him making things awkward and fucking up the friendship if you didn’t feel the same definitely was.
When Ethan walked back in your room, he saw you laying on your stomach, stretched out across your bed as you looked at your phone.
“I thought you got lost,” you said, looking at him before you glanced back at your screen. “What took you so long?”
“I was busy getting grilled,” he said, as he was about to sit down beside you, before he sat in your desk chair instead, just in case Sam walked in.
“Getting grilled?” you asked, as you adjusted yourself so you were sitting up. “Why?”
“Wellll,” he said, shifting awkwardly in the chair. “Pretty sure your sister thinks I’m close to you because I’m trying to sleep with you.”
“Oh my god,” you said, as you hopped off the side of your bed, ready to confront her.
“Wait,” he said, as you hesitantly came to a stop and looked at him. “I kind of got pissed and raised my voice a little. That was terrifying enough. I don’t need you snapping on her and I end up on her shit list because she scares me.”
You laughed at Ethan’s words and the nervous look on his face before you went back over to your bed and sat down.
“Why did she have to make things weird?” you questioned, as you laid back and looked at the ceiling.
“It’s okay. I told her I’m only interested in being your friend,” he said, his words like a punch to your stomach as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’d always had a little crush on him, but now you felt stupid for feeling things he didn’t. “Oh, and I don’t think I should stay over ever again. She mentioned that, too.”
“We literally fell asleep with the lights on and our laptops in front of us,” you sighed, “The only reason she’s being weird is because she saw a box of condoms when I was unpacking after I got here.”
“Oh,” Ethan mumbled, his leg bouncing as he sat in silence for a few seconds. “Should I expect a boyfriend to come visit and want to kick my ass?”
You giggled at his words as you sat back up, “No, I just didn’t want to leave them at home and have my mom go through my stuff while I’m gone. I didn’t want to have that awkward conversation with her, but I ended up having it with Sam.”
Ethan cracked a smile as you cringed the more you thought about it. “Well, at least she knows you’re being safe.”
After that day, you decided to hang out with Ethan at his apartment instead. It was a lot less awkward than dealing with Sam wanting to play the role of a helicopter parent, and because Tara was always there, you got to hang out with her more than you did before.
“What do you guys want to do tonight?” Chad asked, as the four of you sat around the living room. “There’s a party at Kappa Sigma.”
“Oooh, my first college party,” you said, getting a little excited as Tara stared you down. “What?”
“I don’t think you should go to a frat party,” she said, before Ethan spoke up.
“I’ll make sure she’s safe.”
“College guys can be really convincing,” she said, ignoring Ethan’s comment. “I just don’t want some asshole to take advantage of you.”
“I’ll just stay with Ethan all night,” you said, before you turned your head to look at him. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course,” he said, as Tara sighed in frustration.
“I don’t think you should go,” she said, as you started to get really annoyed.
“I remember you calling me to vent when Sam was doing this same shit to you, and now you’re doing it to me,” you said, as you stood up from your spot on the couch. “I just want to have fun.”
Tara knew you were right, because she vividly remembered how pissed she got when Sam was a little extra-overbearing and wouldn’t let her do anything.
“Fine,” Tara said, taking a deep breath before she continued, “But you stay with Ethan all night, okay? And if you tell Sam, she’ll lose her shit on both of us.”
“Okay, wanna go home with me and get ready before Sam gets home from work, then?” you asked, as Tara nodded and kissed Chad before she stood up.
“We’ll met you guys there in an hour.”
You and Tara hurried to get back to the apartment and get ready before Sam got home, because even though she’d loosened the reigns on Tara, she hadn’t done the same for you. Once you were ready to go and you and Tara were about to leave, you heard the door unlock.
“Fuck,” you sighed, a defeated look on your face as Tara grabbed your hand and opened the linen closet door, before she pushed you inside. “What the fuck?”
“Shhh,” she said, as she closed the door.
You heard Sam greet Tara when she walked in, before she asked her what her plans were for the night. When she mentioned the party, she said it wasn’t set in stone that she was going, just that her and Chad had been talking about it. You rolled your eyes when Sam said you better come back home if they did go, because she didn’t want you left alone with Ethan. It was taking everything in you to not pop out of the closet and ask her what her problem was, but you decided to stay silent and listen instead.
“You know Ethan’s not a bad guy, right?” Tara questioned, “He’s not some creep.”
“I know he’s not,” Sam sighed, “I think she likes him, but after she got her heart broken last year, I don’t want her to go through that again.”
“If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me, and she tells me everything,” Tara said, as you heard the sound of Sam’s keys getting sat on the kitchen counter.
“That’s true,” Sam said, “I’m going to go shower. If you do go to that party, be safe.”
“I will,” Tara said, as you heard footsteps getting closer to the closet.
You jumped when the door was flung open, a nervous expression on your face until you realized it was Tara.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, as you giggled and made your way to the front door.
As you and Tara walked the few blocks to get to the frat house, weaving around the people that were on the sidewalk, she got a little curious as she thought about the conversation she had with Sam.
“Do you like Ethan?” she asked, once you stopped at a crosswalk.
“Of course I like him. He’s my best friend,” you said, as the two of you rushed across the street.
“You know what I mean,” she said, as you sighed.
“Not like that,” you lied, “I’m not interested in having a relationship right now.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, “Because someone told me that he likes you.”
“Really?” you asked, as Tara came to a stop once she noticed the excitement in your voice. “I mean…who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, a smirk playing on her lips as your cheeks began to heat up. “You sure you aren’t interested in him?”
“I’m not interested in anyone right now.”
When you walked into the party, you were a little nervous when you saw the sea of people. Tara asked if you wanted to get a drink, and on the way to the kitchen, you bumped into Mindy and Anika.
“Hey!” Anika said, hugging you once she saw you, before she moved over to Tara. You noticed Mindy behind her, her eyebrow cocked as she stared at you.
“Something tells me Sam has no idea you’re here,” she said, as she took a quick sip of her drink. “I didn’t believe Ethan when he said you were coming.”
The mention of his name had the butterflies in your tummy going crazy. You thought about what Tara said, you were sure that Chad was the one that told her Ethan liked you, and he never lied. Mindy noticed you glancing around the party for him before she spoke up.
“He’s in the living room,” she said, the knowing look on her face making you roll your eyes.
“I need a drink. If he’s my babysitter tonight, I want to give him a reason to keep his eye on me,” you said, before you heard Anika mumble, “Yeah, like he needs a reason.”
Once you got your drink, you and Tara found Chad and Ethan leaning against the wall, talking about a new movie they wanted to see. Ethan smiled when he saw you, giving Chad a look before he whisked your sister away, leaving you and Ethan alone.
“Hey,” he said, as he snatched your drink out of your hand. “Sam would kill me if I let you drink.”
“Ethannnn,” you whined, as you tried to take it from him, but he held it out of your reach. “Can I please have my drink?”
“Only if you promise not to drink too much. I’d be worried about you all night after you go home,” he said, as he hesitantly lowered the cup so you could grab it.
“I promise,” you said, a soft smile playing on your lips as you took a sip of it. “So…what do you want to do?”
“Well, I can’t dance,” he said, as he looked at all the people grinding on each other in the middle of the living room floor. “You might not have that much fun with me.”
“I always have fun with you,” you said, your tone flirty as Ethan smirked at you. “We could always go somewhere and talk.”
“Okay,” he said, as he pushed off the wall. He grabbed your hand as he weaved between the crowd and through the house. You eventually ended up in a random bedroom, the sounds of the music thumping very faint as you took a seat on the bed.
You were nervous as you sat with Ethan, because you were trying to find a way to bring up what you were told. You liked Ethan and you loved hanging out with him, and the more you thought about it, you thought about how perfect you could be together.
“So, someone mentioned something to me today,” you said, as Ethan curiously looked at you.
“Oh? What was it?” he asked, and just as you were about to respond, the bedroom door was flung open.
You and Ethan both had wide eyes as a few frat guys and a handful of girls walked into the room, their expressions matching yours.
“If you guys are going to fuck, you need to go to another room,” one of the guys said, as you glanced over at Ethan and giggled once you saw the pink tint to his cheeks.
“We weren’t. We were just talking,” you said, as you stood up.
“Wait, are you guys together?” the same guy asked, as he looked you up and down.
“No,” you said, as he smiled at you.
“You guys want to play a game with us?”
You looked over at Ethan, silently asking him if that’s something he’d want to do before he shrugged.
“Sure,” you said, as you took another sip of your drink.
“Okay, come sit on the floor,” he said, as Ethan stood up and walked over.
You were a little confused once you noticed everyone was sitting in a circle. You and Ethan sat beside each other, waiting to hear what the plan was.
“Is this some kind of weird satanic ritual,” you joked, before the guy chuckled and grabbed an empty vodka bottle off the dresser.
“We’re going to play Spin the Bottle,” he said, as he sat down and put the bottle in the middle of the circle.
Ethan immediately got uncomfortable as he sat beside you, because he felt sick at the idea of watching someone else kiss you. You felt the same way when you noticed one of the girls looking at him, and even contemplated getting up and leaving the room.
“Is that really what we’re playing?” you asked, as a different guy spoke up.
“You don’t want to kiss a stranger?” he asked, “Because I was hoping when it was my turn, it’d land on you.”
“We’re just having fun,” the girl that was checking out Ethan said. “There are some rules, though. If a guy spins it and it lands on another guy, they get to spin again. If a girl lands on another girl, they can kiss if they want or spin again. But these losers like the girl-on-girl action a little too much.”
“Oh,” you said, “I don’t know if I want to play this.”
“Come on,” a different guy said, as you glanced over to Ethan. “You’re a freshman, right? Have a little fun.”
If you didn’t deal with enough peer pressure in high school, you realized it was just as bad in college. You took a huge gulp of your drink as the first person spun the bottle.
As the game progressed, you were a little surprised that no one had gotten you or Ethan. You were getting more and more buzzed as you sipped your drink, and once it was your turn to spin the bottle, Ethan got really nervous. He looked around the room at all the guys that were hoping it’d land on them, and he was a little irritated they were eyeing you like that.
As the glass bottle moved against the hardwood floor, you were relieved when it landed on Ethan. Relieved until you realized you actually had to kiss him. One of the guys groaned in the background as you looked at Ethan, his eyes huge as you leaned in.
“You’ve been drinking. You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” he said, soft enough for only you to hear him.
“I want to,” you whispered, before your lips touched his.
You couldn’t put into words what it felt like to kiss Ethan, but after he kissed you back and your mouths were moving together, you didn’t want it to stop. You weren’t sure if the feeling of your head spinning was from the alcohol or kissing the guy you’ve been crushing on since you first got to New York.
Just as Ethan’s tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss, the bedroom door flung open. You pulled away to see your sister and Chad’s panicked faces, the fear on Tara’s face turning to annoyance as she walked over and grabbed your hand to pull you up. You glanced around to see everyone staring at you, the awkwardness of the moment setting in before she yanked you out of the room, with Ethan following closely behind you.
“I asked you to keep an eye on her and you make out with her?” Tara asked Ethan as she shut the door. “What were you guys doing with those losers?”
“Wait, they were making out?” Mindy questioned, making her presence known as she and Anika leaned against the wall. “That’s the most action he’s gotten since he’s been here.”
If kissing you didn’t already have Ethan’s mind racing, the tension between him and Tara and the embarrassment of Mindy basically calling him an inexperienced loser was a little too much for him. He walked away and went straight to the door, leaving you to stand there, very confused. You thought Ethan was just as into it as you were, but once he walked away without saying anything, you wondered if Tara was wrong when she said he liked you.
Later that night when you got home, the party you secretly went to wasn’t a secret anymore when Sam walked into the bathroom to see you leaning over the toilet as Tara rubbed your back. She was livid, because she couldn’t forget the creep that tried to take advantage of Tara at the first college party she went to.
The next day, Sam wanted to talk to you about it, but you had no interest in having that conversation. The only thing you could think about was kissing Ethan, and how every text you’d sent to him got no response. The hangover made you feel awful, but what made you feel worse was the realization that you fucked up your friendship with the guy you’ve been spending time with almost every single day.
After a few days of you only leaving your room to go to class, Sam and Tara both came in your room to talk to you. Their faces showed how concerned they were while yours was blank, because as sad as you were, you’d already cried more tears than you thought was possible.
“What’s going on with you?” Sam asked, as you just sat there. “Can you talk to us? We’re worried about you.”
“I don’t want to talk,” you said, your voice showing how tired you were as Tara sighed.
“Did something happen at that party? Because Ethan’s acting the same way you are right now,” she said, the mention of his name making your eyes water. “What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, your words cracking as you spoke. “I think you were wrong about him liking me.”
“This is what I was worried about,” Sam said, as she took a seat on your bed. Her words pissed you off, because her cornering Ethan to question him and talking to Tara about it instead of just coming to you had been bothering you for days. “I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” you snapped, “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking overbearing, he’d still be talking to me.”
“You’re blaming this on me?” Sam asked, the shocked expression on her face making you angrier.
“Okay, let’s calm down,” Tara said, trying to mediate the situation before it got worse. “So, you do like him?”
“Yes, I fucking like him,” you said, the tears streaming down your cheeks as she pulled you into a hug. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”
You talked to Sam and Tara for a while before you cried to the point of having a headache. Once you said you were going to take a nap, Tara left the apartment to go to Chad and Ethan’s.
“Hey, babe,” Chad said, the smile on his face as he opened the door for her dropping when he realized she was mad. “What’s up?”
“Where’s Ethan?” she questioned, as Chad stepped to the side for her to walk in.
“He’s in his room.”
She stormed down the hallway and gave his door a few loud knocks before she walked in, glaring at Ethan once she saw him in front of his computer playing games.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, as Ethan’s face showed how nervous he was. “My sister just cried on my shoulder for an hour because of you!”
“She was crying?” Ethan asked, the guilt weighing heavy on him as her nostrils flared. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“Then why did you?!” Tara questioned, as Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. “I thought you liked her!”
“I do!” Ethan yelled back, before he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls. “I just needed some space to think. You know how bad I feel about making out with her like that when she’d been drinking? And Mindy saying that’s the most action I’ve gotten all year? I should’ve gotten her out of that stupid room that night.”
“Ethan,” Tara sighed, as she took a seat on his bed. “She really likes you; she wouldn’t be as upset as she’s been for the last few days if she didn’t.”
“She doesn’t think I’m just some creepy loser virgin?” he asked, as Tara shook her head. “Should I call her?”
“She’s asleep right now, but I think you need to talk to her in person,” she said, as Ethan stood up. “If you hurt her again, Ethan, Sam will be the least of your worries.”
Tara stayed at the apartment with Chad while Ethan walked to your apartment. He hated that you were so upset, and he was just hoping that him ghosting you for a few days wouldn’t be enough for you to not want to give him a chance to explain himself.
When he got there and knocked on the door, he was nervous about who was going to answer, but he had to make things right. Sam opened the door, but she didn’t have her usual cold expression painted on her face, a soft smile playing on her lips as she saw how frantic Ethan looked.
“She’s still sleeping,” Sam said, as she stepped to the side. “But I need to talk to you about something before you talk to her.”
“If you’re going to yell at me, I promise Tara laid into me pretty hard just now,” he said, as Sam smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“I’ve taught her well,” she said, before she continued, “I’m sorry that I was a bitch a few weeks ago. I just worry about her, you know?” Ethan nodded in understanding, as Sam sighed. “She really cares about you, and I think you’d be great for her. I’m still mad that you upset her, but if you want to be with her, I’m okay with it. I won’t give you shit, I promise.”
“Seriously?” Ethan asked, smiling to himself as he heard your bedroom door creak open.
He snapped his head in the direction of the hallway, and once he saw how sad you looked, he started to tear up himself.
“I need to go to work,” Sam said, as she stood up from the table. “I’ll let you two talk.”
You stood at the hallway entrance as Ethan sat at the table, the two of you not looking away from each other. It wasn’t until Ethan wiped a stray tear off his cheek that you finally walked over to him.
“Hey,” you said softly, as he stood up from his chair.
“Hey,” he said, as he grabbed your hands and pulled you towards him, your head resting against his chest as he held you. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“I missed you, too,” you mumbled against him, before you pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night.”
“You didn’t,” he said, as his hand cupped your cheek.
You smiled for the first time in days as he leaned down and placed his plus lips against yours. You felt that same head spinning feeling you’d felt before, but as the kiss was getting more heated, he pulled away.
“Can we talk?” he asked, as you nodded and laced your fingers with his, before you led him to your room.
“If I didn’t make you uncomfortable the other night, why’d you stop talking to me?” you asked, as you got comfortable on your bed and Ethan sat across from you.
“I kissed you when I’ve liked you for months and never thought anything would come from it, your sister yelled at me after she saw it, then Mindy had her little comment,” he said, taking a deep breath as he looked at you. “I feel bad that I was letting that kiss go that far when you were drinking, and I know you’d probably want a guy that has experience in the bedroom. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”
“I don’t care about stuff like that, Ethan,” you said, as you reached over and grabbed his hands that were rubbing against his thighs. “And I kissed you because I wanted to. Me being buzzed just took the edge off so I wasn’t as nervous.”
“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” he teased, making you laugh a little.
“A while,” you said, as he smirked at you. “I didn’t know you liked me until right before that party.”
“Wait, how’d you find out?” Ethan questioned, as you looked down at his fingers playing with yours.
“Tara said someone told her; I think it was Chad,” you said, as Ethan rolled his eyes.
“I’m annoyed that he told my secret, but I’m happy he did,” he said, as you leaned closer towards him.
“Me, too.”
When Ethan closed the gap between the two of you and your lips moved with his, things felt different, but not in a bad way. You knew you both wanted to be with each other, and you could feel how happy he was to be kissing you.
As the kiss escalated to him on top of you, his tongue moving with yours as your hands tangled in his hair, his hips started to involuntarily squirm. He was about to pull away because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but once your legs wrapped around him and your own hips began to move, he groaned into the kiss.
When he pulled away to catch his breath, you started to kiss his neck all over, searching for his sweet spot. He gasped the second you found it, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed how good it felt.
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he whispered, a whimper building in your throat once you felt it rub against your pussy over the leggings you were wearing. “Does that feel good?” he asked, noticing the sounds you were making as he grinded himself against you.
“Yes,” you moaned as you pulled away.
You both just looked at each other, waiting for someone to make the next move. You didn’t want Ethan to feel like it was something he had to do, while he was worried that he was pressuring you. He was about to lean down to kiss you again, but you stopped him before he could.
“No pressure, but if you want this to go further, I’m okay with it,” you said, as he smiled at you.
“I want to,” he said, before he kissed you again.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but once you gasped into the kiss as his hand rubbed your exposed side from your shirt lifting a little, he inched it further up until it landed on one of your breasts, and he felt like he could cum in his pants from the feeling once he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed, his hips rutting against you to give you both a little friction.
“Okay,” you said once you pushed him away a little to catch your breath. “I’m going to go crazy.”
“Why?” he asked, smirking at you as you sighed.
“We need to lose some clothes,” you mumbled, as you loosened the grip your legs had around his waist.
You reached over and grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you checked out his toned stomach. After his shirt was over his head, he reached over and did the same to you. The second your chest was exposed to him, he pushed you back on the bed and immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth.
You moaned at the feeling as he licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue against you, your pussy throbbing as his mouth moved. As he went to the other side, you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly inching up it.
“You can touch me,” you said, your tone sounding like you were trying to convince him. He sighed against you before his hand was in between your legs, rubbing your pussy over the soft material of your leggings.
He pulled his hand away from you as he kissed down your body, the loss of contact making you want to whine, but you held it in. You giggled as you felt his curls tickling you, but once he made it to your leggings and hooked his fingers in them to pull them down, your breathing got a lot heavier.
“You’re sure this is okay?” he asked, as he lifted his head and his eyes connected with yours.
“More than okay,” you said, as he smiled and slid them down your legs.
When Ethan first met you, he never expected to experience anything like this with you. He might’ve let his mind wander there every now and then, because there were a few instances where you’d accidentally made him hard, but this was already better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.
His eyes stayed on your face as he rubbed you over your panties, a groan slipping past his lips once he felt how wet they were. Your eyes were pleading with him, and even though his nerves were kicking in again from the lack of experience, he knew he didn’t have to be nervous to do this with you.
He moved those off your hips and down your legs before he tossed them on the floor, but just as he was leaning down to get settled between your legs, he stopped to look at you.
“If something doesn’t feel good, tell me. Okay?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “Or if you need me to do something different, let me know.”
“I will,” you said, as he smiled at you.
Once his head was in between your legs, he began to slowly lick your clit with the tip of his tongue. One of your hands went to his hair, tangling in the soft brown locks as you let out the softest moans. He knew the sound meant that he wasn’t doing a horrible job, so he really started to get into it. He noticed when he used more pressure, your moans got louder, and you were struggling to keep your hips still.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said, your breathing getting heavier as the grip on his hair got a little tighter. “You want to use your fingers, too?”
“How many should I use?” he asked after he pulled away to look at you.
“Start with one,” you said, as he nodded and looked down to see what he was doing.
You were so wet, his long middle finger sliding into you with ease. He slid it in and out of you as he looked back to your face to make sure it felt good.
“Okay…do this,” you said, demonstrating how he needed to move his finger, “There’s this spot that feels really,” you got out, but before you could finish getting your sentence out, he found it. “Fuck, right there. Keep hitting that.”
He did as you said before he leaned back down and gave your clit the attention it needed with his tongue, your moans getting whinier as your legs were tingling from the pleasure you were feeling. He took your clit in his mouth to roll over it with his tongue, and as you shakily praised him, telling him how good of a job he was doing, his cock was throbbing. You felt amazing around that single finger, the thoughts of how it would feel for him to be inside of you only making him even more hard.
“Use-fuck,” you got out, your thoughts getting cloudy as you tried to tell him what you needed. “Two fingers.”
He did as you asked, his ring finger sliding into your pussy. He kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you, and as his tongue moved against you, you felt that special feeling building deep in the pit of your stomach.
“Don’t stop,” you begged, your words making Ethan chuckle because there was no way in hell he was going to.
He softly sucked on your clit, and once he did, your whines got louder and closer together, your toes curling against the sheets as he worked you towards your orgasm.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, as your hips lifted off the bed, your eyebrows furrowing as you felt the white-hot feeling spread across your body.
Your pussy kept tightening around Ethan’s fingers, and he didn’t know when he was supposed to stop, so he didn’t. It only made your orgasm more intense as you tugged on his hair, the feeling making him moan against you.
Once your walls stopped fluttering and your body relaxed, he hesitantly pulled away and slid his fingers out, already missing all the sounds he was pulling from you moments before.
“Was that okay?” he asked, as you hazily looked at him.
“You’ve never done that before?” you asked, your disbelieving stare making him laugh as he shook his head.
“Never.”
“I think you’re lying because there’s no way you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had your first time doing that,” you said, a huge smile appearing on his face at your words.
“The best?” he asked, “I thought I was going to be awful at it.”
“You definitely aren’t,” you said, as you sat up to face him. “What do you want to do next?”
“You said you have condoms, right?” he asked, remembering the conversation he had with you a few weeks before.
“Yeah,” you said, as you slid off the side of the bed. You stood there for a second to get your bearings, because your legs still felt like Jell-O.
You walked over to your dresser and looked through the second drawer, searching for the box that you hid with your socks. You heard Ethan rustling around behind you, the sound of the metal on his belt clanking against the floor letting you know that he was taking his jeans off.
Just as you’d found the box, you felt his arms wrap around you. You smiled as you leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth. That’s when you felt how hard he was, and even though you hadn’t actually seen what he was hiding in the confines of his boxers, you could already tell it certainly wasn’t small.
“Fuck,” he whispered, as you ass brushed against him. “I can’t wait to do this with you.”
“Then let’s do it,” you said, the excitement in your voice making him smile as he pulled away from you. “You wanna be on top?”
“Uh…is that okay?” he asked, as you nodded and laid back on your bed and got comfortable. He slid his boxers down his legs, your eyes growing wide as you looked at him. You could tell he was a little self-conscious when his cheeks turned pink and his hand moved to cover himself.
“Why are you doing that?” you questioned, “You just saw my pussy up close.”
“You were staring at it,” he said, his voice a little shy as you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, because it’s about to be inside of me,” you said, as you sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards you. You grabbed a condom out of the box and handed it to him as he crawled up on the bed. “Just…be gentle.”
“Okay,” he said, as he opened it and slowly rolled it on.
The expression on his face said he was fully confident in what he was about to do, but his shaky hands said otherwise. You knew it probably wasn’t going to last long, and that was okay. You didn’t want him to feel bad for it, so you were trying to figure out the best way to bring it up.
“Hey,” you said, as his nervous eyes met yours. “I want you to enjoy this, okay? Don’t think you have to last forever. Don’t worry about making me cum again.”
“But…isn’t that bad if I don’t make you cum?” he asked, his nerves fading a little as you smiled at him.
“You just did. I already told you that’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you said, as he lined up with your entrance. “Just take it slow at first.”
“Okay,” he said, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
He was already dizzy at the feeling of your tight, wet pussy around his cock, and he felt relieved that he didn’t feel the pressure of making you cum again, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to. He knew he’d be lucky if he didn’t bust within the first thirty seconds.
Some guys in bed were more vocal than others, and you were wondering what Ethan was going to be. Your question was soon answered when he started to move, and you heard him choking back the whimpers that were so close to pouring from his mouth.
“Don’t be quiet,” you said between your own sounds as he tried to find his rhythm, “I wanna hear you.”
He smiled at your words before his mouth fell open, finally letting you know exactly how good he was feeling. You wrapped your legs around his waist so he could go deeper, and the new angle, plus him hearing all your sounds and seeing all the faces you were making, had his orgasm quickly sneaking up on him.
“Oh fuck,” he whimpered, his breathing shaky as his hips began to falter. “I’m gonna cum.”
You were watching him as that feeling washed over his body, his eyes fluttering as he whined your name. You thought it was the hottest thing ever to see him fall apart so quick, all because of how good your pussy felt for him.
“I swear to god, I’m gonna make this up to you,” he said, as he slid out and laid on the bed beside you as he caught his breath.
“Make it up to me?” you asked, as you moved so your head was resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around you as he held you close. “Don’t feel bad about not making me cum just now.”
“I wanted to, though,” he sighed, “Next time I will.”
“I think after you get used to sex, you’ll have no problem making me cum,” you said, as your fingers traced pattern on his chest. “Especially if you bend me over. Like, all fours, on the bed.”
“You want me to bend you over?” Ethan asked, as you sat up to look at him.
“Mhm,” you hummed, your bottom lip between your teeth at the idea.
Ethan felt the blood rushing straight to his cock again from you mentioning him having you in a position like that, and when you glanced down to see him already half-hard again, you giggled to yourself.
“You forgot to take the condom off,” you said, his eyes growing wide as the blush spread to his cheeks.
“Sorry,” he said, as he slid off the side of your bed. “I couldn’t think straight after that.”
He took the condom off and tossed in in the wastebasket in your room before he walked back over towards you and sat on the bed.
“Uh, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to…but do you want to do it again?” he asked, as he glanced down to see that he was fully hard again. You looked at where his attention was, before his eyes connected with yours.
“Right now?” you asked, your tone playful as he smiled.
“If you want to,” he said, “I wanna know what it feels like to do it in every position.”
“How many days do you have?” you teased, as his eyes grew wide.
“Jesus Christ, how many are there?” he asked, “You know what? Let’s just focus on the basic ones for now.”
You wasted no time to toss another condom to Ethan, because even though you said it was okay for you to not cum the first time, you were craving that release. Well, that, and you loved the feeling of him inside of you.
Your pussy was still soaked as you got into the position on the bed, as he stood on his knees behind you.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
Ethan started off slow, wanting to pace himself so he wouldn’t cum as quickly as he did before. He had his hand on your hips as he got more into it, pulling them back to meet his thrusts. The position made it easy for him to hit that spot every single time, and you were letting out the softest moans.
When he sped up a little, you relaxed the upper half of your body onto the bed as your ass was stuck up in the air for him, a low groan leaving his mouth at the sight. Even though he was moving your hips, you started to throw them back, your actions giving him the motivation to go faster.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your hands clinging to your comforter as you felt that feeling start to build. Your skin was tingling, and you felt tiny little jolts of electricity running through your legs as he brought you closer to the edge.
Ethan knew he was close, but he was trying so hard to fight it off. He was thinking of some of the most depressing things to distract himself from the sounds you were making, and he knew as soon as he looked down at your back, he’d lose it.
You were trying to tell him how good everything felt, but that got a lot harder once it became difficult for you to even think of what you wanted to say. You were so close, right on the edge when you felt one of his hands that was on your hips move in between your legs, his fingers rubbing quick circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.
“Cumming,” you whimpered against your bed. Your pussy kept clenching and releasing Ethan’s cock, a low moan flying out of his mouth at the feeling.
“Fuck, baby. Me too.”
As you and Ethan laid in your bed talking about all the dates he wanted to take you on, places he wanted to take you to see, he had a realization.
“Ya know, I never asked you to be my girlfriend,” he said, as his hands ran over your back.
“You don’t have to. I’m already yours,” you said, as you sat up to kiss him.
“I never thought this would happen,” he sighed, a smile on his face as he lazily closed his eyes.
“What?” you questioned, as he opened his eyes and sat up, too.
“All of this. I never thought we’d be anything more than friends. I never thought Sam would be okay with it. I never thought I’d lose my virginity,” he said, the last part making you laugh as you rolled your eyes.
“Maybe you didn’t lose it before because you were supposed to do it with me,” you teased, as he mimicked your eyeroll.
“I also never expected it to happen twice in one night,” he said, as he bit his bottom lip, his eyes getting darker the longer he stared at you.
“Don’t look at me like that unless you want to go for round three,” you said, before he pushed you back on the bed.
“Okay, but you’re on top this time.”
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