#Wine Seminars | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smileysuh · 5 months

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after the seminar

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.

tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k

🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.

Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you.

Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.

As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’

“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit.

Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends.

Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.

Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.

You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.

“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.

“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again.

“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again.

You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.

“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”

“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”

Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.

He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how.

You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.

“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.

“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.”

Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.”

“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”

“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”

“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”

“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”

You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.

This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”

“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.”

Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing.

“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.”

This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”

“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”

“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”

The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.

What was Wonwoo interested in?

He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate.

“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks.

Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”

Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere.

You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips.

The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh.

You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again.

The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.

God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles.

“Thank you,” you grin back.

“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”

Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details.

“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.”

“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”

“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins.

“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?”

Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”

“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way.

“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him.

Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”

Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.

You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.

“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.

“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.

You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together.

You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.

“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess.

Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes.

There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.

“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts.

You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.

“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”

To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”

This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.

“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”

You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one.

Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.

“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”

“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”

“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs.

It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin.

In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.

He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated-

God, you want him so bad.

You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.

It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library.

Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence.

As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.

You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust.

Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.

You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market.

Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are.

You need him so badly.

That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup.

You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core.

The conversation reaches a lull, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”

“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm.

He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right.

“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug.

Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you.

“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.

With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies.

Now you’re really turned on.

Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.

As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”

“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.

“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.

“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”

“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.

Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.”

“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.

“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.

“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”

“More than you realize.”

Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.

He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.

You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.

“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.

You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.

“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.

You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.

“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure.

“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already.

It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-

It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.

Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these.

“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-

“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.”

One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you.

If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.

He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.

Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.

“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again.

You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.

“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts.

In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?

When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.

“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby.

“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.

His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness.

When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through.

Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”

His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.

Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.

Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately.

You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.

Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”

“Fuck-”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.

“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”

You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit.

You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”

The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair.

“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.

You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words.

Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.

You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.

“Honey-” he groans.

You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”

“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet.

He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-

The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.

His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.

As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole.

Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.

You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.

Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.

He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.

He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.

It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.

“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks.

You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious.

Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.

There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.

Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.

“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.

“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”

“Of course, just tell me when.”

“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”

Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat.

“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-

“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.

The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy.

He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly.

You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.

When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”

Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“Yes, please.”

Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”

“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.

“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.”

Your entire body tingles with excitement.

While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.

“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.

“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”

“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.

“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.

Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm in love with Wonwoo what the hell

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc. I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.

“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight.

Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement.

You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you.

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.”

His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.

Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds.

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.

The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Is this…”

“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”

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#wonwoo #wonwoo smut #svthub #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #sugar daddy wonwoo #sugar daddy svt #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader smut

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realbacchus · 2 years

Text

Ok when I first started reading WoK I was in university studying Wine (like literally you can get a degree in wine growing and business... I love it), and when I heard orange wine being mentioned in the book I had a moment of sheer stupidity in that I thought it was based off of orange wine, like white wine left on the lees so that it creates a deeper/more orange color (there are other methods, too). Blinded by my own interests.

#also orange wine isnt popular!#i took a whole seminar on it and got to taste them it was fun

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flawseer · 4 months

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Jade Mountain Academy students

#3 - Nightwing chapter

The Jade Mountain Nightwing chapter, also known as "the part where Mightyclaws carries the entire weight of the Quartz winglet's canon characterization by himself". There are a bunch of wacky headcanons that have snuck their way on here. Shout-out to the deliberation on Nightwing powers by my partner @flamebringer0.

Moonwatcher

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Jade

Color - Iridescent black and blue

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Kinkajou (Rainwing), Carnelian (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Literacy

Least fav. subject - did not disclose

Physical characteristics - three prominent silver-colored scales on face (two adjacent to each eye, one in center of forehead); scale clusters of iridescent blue and green along neck, torso, and tail; small stature, round features with well-defined musculature

Other characteristics - socially subdued, quiet, mother reported history of migraines (suggest keeping stock of pain-relieving herbs on hand in medical cave, monitor hydration habits); appears ostracized from fellow Nightwing students (suggest communication seminar)

Bigtail

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Gold

Color - Dark ash

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Pike (Seawing), Flame (Skywing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - nasal ridge sloped; large stature, uneven distribution of body mass; tail size and length medium to underdeveloped

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); caught bringing bottle of cactus wine into classroom (confiscated, reprimanded after incident but monitor future behavior)

Fearless

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Charcoal black and red

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Sepia (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Literacy

Physical characteristics - long dorsal spines; localized reddish accents; stature is noticeably small and thin

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); fixation on Nightwing culture (gently encourage diversifying interests)

Mindreader

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Copper

Color - Charcoal black

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Alba (Icewing), Snail (Seawing)

Favorite subject - Cultural Exchange

Least fav. subject - History

Physical characteristics - black teardrop scales adjacent to both eyes; size is average, features appear very gaunt

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); appears socially open and well-adjusted

Mightyclaws

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Shadow gray

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Barracuda (Seawing)

Favorite subject - Art

Least fav. subject - Anatomy

Physical characteristics - light horns, bent; prominent jawline; small stature with uneven distribution of body mass

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition, noticeably stressed during meal times (suggest dietary seminar, monitoring of food intake, and counseling); artistically inclined, has started therapeutic painting to cope with post-traumatic stress (at behest of staff)

#wings of fire #wof #dragon #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #wof nightwing #wof moonwatcher #wof bigtail #wof fearless #wof mindreader #wof mightyclaws #jade mountain academy

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italianwinepodcast · 2 years

Audio

(Italian Wine Podcast)

#SoundCloud #music #Italian Wine Podcast #AttilioScienza #Seminar #DenominationofOrigin #Grapes

0 notes

rosemoncherie · 3 months

Text

business affairs: t.wolff - series [OLD VERSION]

Chapter One: The Night Everything Began.

pairing: Toto Wolff x OC!Natalia Danon.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, age gap (Natalia is 32), talks of divorce, allusions to sexism, fast paced, explicit sexual scene, cunnilingus, slight dirty talk.

w.c: 4.04K

tags: @queenshikongo3 @bluesole16 @christinabae @aisharmi @hoziersfairy @queenzee27 @omgsuperstarg @lewisroscoelove @itsyagirlmeee @joviallljas @serpenttines-library @hrlzy @sugardontbesweet @tallrock35 @tian-monique @f1-hoff @peyiswriting @thewolffswife @mochiminimoni @bekindbecoolbeyou

KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA. 2022.

Natalia was exhausted but ultimately, she was hungry.

Very hungry.

She had rationalised that since she was already downstairs, going into the in-house restaurant was better than tracking all the way up her suite and ordering room service when she could hear the loud growling of her stomach.

Quickly, Natalia was seated and ordered some focaccia with an olive oil dip and a glass of Corton Charlemagne white wine. After a long day of meetings and conferences, a good glass of wine was desperately needed.

It had only been a couple of years since Natalia had been assigned to the position of Chief Financial Officer of Mercedes Benz. The youngest woman to ever be appointed to the role and unfortunately, the first black woman to ever hold that title for a top five company within the vehicle industry.

Natalia had been a finance protege. A master of her craft as some people would describe her and when her parents picked up on her affinity for numbers, they did everything possible to advance her career. And all the better for it as it led her to where was today.

She loved her job and despite all of the hardships and pushback that she had faced, no one and nothing was going to take that away from her.

That however, did not change the fact there were some days where the job had been strenuous on her mind and body. Hours on end speaking to people in seminars, overseeing a few upcoming projects and a lot of walking. The walking was the worst of it all as Natalia had chosen a beautiful pair of high heels typically made for a sitting situation. She had failed to anticipate just how much walking she would have had to partake in today.

Natalia hummed softly as she chewed on the dip soaked bread. After four hours, this was the first piece of nourishment she had after hours of sipping on only water. Her eyes wandered around her surroundings until they landed on a man.

Toto Wolff.

The CEO and team principal of the Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One team. A man who she held a lot of great respect for and he made it known whenever the both of them were in the same vicinity that the feeling was mutual. Toto staying in the same hotel as herself was not uncommon. Mercedes Benz and the Ritz-Carlton were in a long term partnership, hence they were able to stay in the luxurious hotel free of charge anywhere in the world.

A perk of the job.

Their eyes met and his face radiated a genuine smile. Quite the rare sight of the man. Natalia waved for him to come over and soon enough, Toto was being led towards her table. As soon as she stood up to greet him, the sleeves of her jersey slid back down her arms.

“Good to see you again.” Toto greeted her after a quick hug.

Natalia giggled as she sat back down with him pulling a chair close beside her. “We’ve seen each other a lot today.”

“That’s what happens when you work together.”

"Technically I am your boss, you work for me.

Natalia shot back which caused Toto to chuckle.

”You love pointing that out don’t you.” His right eyebrow lifted as he took in her facial features.

“Yes I want to make sure that you never forget it.”

“And I won’t.” His eyes trailed down to her glossed lips and settled there for a moment.

Toto licked his.

The action was subtle but Natalia caught it all. She took a deep breath as she reached for the menus.

”Are you ordering anything to eat or are you just here to keep me company?”

The question caused him to smirk. “Well. I had only come in, to a place an order to be delivered to my suite but now that I’m here I don’t see why I can’t do both. A late dinner in the company of a beautiful woman? You’d be a fool to decline that.”

His words and tone were laced with flirtation and Natalia hated herself for just how much it swayed her. You’d be an idiot to deny how attractive the man was. A tall giant at 6 feet 5 inches, slender yet muscular in all the places that counted. For a mature man like him, Toto kept himself physically agile and well groomed. Almost always clean shaved but his hair always ended up ruffled from the constant wear of headphones and how frequently he ran his fingers through the dark locks.

Outside of appearance, his charisma was extremely charming as intended. Toto knew how to talk to people and he knew how to make people feel comfortable around them. The addition of his accent to his voice, Natalia knew that trying to fight her attraction towards the recently divorced man was futile.

The pair ended up ordering the chef’s special along with the bottle of Corton Charlemagne. As they enjoyed their meal, the conversation was easy going. Natalia spoke for most of the time whilst Toto listened. He was interested in knowing about her life - only interjecting when he felt that his opinion was needed.

When the bottle of wine was finished, Natalia switched to drinking water. Her flight out of Malaysia was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon and she would rather still have control of her senses.

“I can’t believe you’re single though.” The words easily slipped out of her mouth before she could have stopped her harbouring thought. The topic of conversation had been on his previous marriage as it had been a diversion of attention from the status of Natalia’s love life. One could argue why her question was inappropriate to ask but curiosity had gripped her. When the divorce was announced at the tail end of 2021, people had been curious to know the reason. Nobody had thought that the power couple of motorsports would ever part ways.

Toto sighed. “As much as we tried to not let our marriage get in the way of her career, the stigma that she would always just be my wife and that everything she would accomplish would be attributed to our matrimony ultimately became too much to bear. Of course there were other issues that contributed to the divorce but that was a big one. At the end of the day it was the best decision for the both of us. She needed to grow and being with me was a hindrance to that. No matter how much I loved her, her growth as a leader and as a person was far more important to me.”

“Wow.” Nat whispered as she let his words sink in. He spoke with great candour and genuine care. She could still feel the love that Toto had for Susie but there was romantic fondness in his words. Just respect and adoration for his ex-wife.

Toto nervously chuckled as he scratched the top of his left eyebrow. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be talking about my ex with you.”

“No, no. That was deeply profound. It’s a shame things came to such an ending but I think the choice that the both of you came to was a good one. If that is any type of comfort.”

“It is.” Toto softly smiled as he played with the stem of his wine glass. “It’s taken some time to get used to that but I’m getting there.”

”That’s good.”

That particular conversation ended there. Things were getting too deep and personal for either of their liking.

“No more talk about past relationships.” Toto said as he reached for the wine selection menu. However, Nat reached forward and placed her hand on his wrist to stop him.

“No more drinking for me. I need to head up to bed. My flight is tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving so soon?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I need to get to London by Friday. INEOS moved their meeting up to then instead of the agreed Wednesday the following week.”

“That could be because Jim is coming to London around that time.”

“I don’t care. It doesn’t change the fact that multiple people, me included, are now having to re-arrange our schedules because Radcliffe is an impatient old man.” Natalia complained as she rolled her eyes. A move that made Toto laugh as he placed the menu down.

“How about I walk you up to your room then?” He volunteered.

Her back straightened up and she lightly cleared her throat. “Yes. Please.”

Ever the gentleman, Toto put the bill of the meal on his room tab instead of Natalia having to share the cost. All the way to her suite, Toto had kept her smiling and giggling and it made her sick just how down her guard was. She couldn’t even blame it on alcohol.

All night, the crush she had for the man beside her had been festering and now it was at a fever’s pitch. Being in his presence for such a long time, alone, had her mind thinking of things that she shouldn’t.

They stood outside of her suite’s door, key card in hand with her back to the frame. At her full height, her forehead was still barely touching his chin. Toto was looking down at her with a soft glimmer of something in his eyes that she couldn’t deny.

”Would you like to come in? I have a full bar if you want to continue drinking. If not, I have something else in mind to offer.” Nat chewed on her bottom lip as she left the suggestion lingering in between them.

”If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were trying to seduce me with that offer.” Toto expected her to claim that she was just joking and to walk away from the suggestion. Proclaim that she had just been joking and that the rising sexual tension in between them up to this point had been a figment of his imagination.

Instead, Natalia stood on her tip toes and tipped her head upwards until her lips were close to his. Just a breath’s reach.

She held his gaze. “What if I am?”

The energy had immediately shifted. Toto did not give her a verbal agreement as the door closed behind the both of them. He turned her around so that her back was touching his chest. Natalia’s moan vibrated in her throat as he moved her hair out of the way of her right shoulder. A sigh left her as his mouth touched her skin. His hands pulled her tucked in jersey out of her skirt until he was able to lay his hands onto her bare skin beneath the knitted fabric.

His hand clutching onto her top, he instructed Natalia to strip out of her skirt. And in quick succession, her clothes were on the floor.

“Fuck.” Toto said as he swallowed his thirst. If it wasn’t for the fact that her panties had been already soaked, the way his eyes roved hungrily over her body would have had her gushing more than she already was.

Natalia enjoyed his reaction to her. His lust was palpable as she unhooked her bra from her chest and let it join her clothes on the floor. She then hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thongs but before Nat could do anything else, Toto grabbed a hold of her wrists.

“No. Get on the bed.”

As her knees touched the duvet, Toto stood behind her as he dragged his fingers down the length of her spine before both of his hands dug into her ass cheeks, parting them softly. The cool air touched her nether lips which caused her to lightly gasp.

“Oh!” Natalia whimpered as he roughly handled her body. She was now on her back with a shirtless Toto hovering above her. He kissed her with all his might, with all of his pent up desire translating into the way that his lips modded over her. She opened her mouth to the intrusion of his sweet tongue laced with the wine of dinner into her mouth. Natalia dug her nails into his back as the kiss deepened. She wrapped her leg around his waist as she tried to anchor herself as his hardening erection pressed against her lower stomach.

Toto’s hands moved away from her hips until he was cupping the back of her neck, pulling her close until her teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and she was pulling it into her mouth. Natalia gasped into Toto’s mouth as he pressed his lips harder into hers before sucking on her tongue.

She couldn’t stay still as he continued to kiss her like this. Her hips rotated forward, trying to to create some type of friction to ease the ache residing deep in the pit of her stomach.

“Let me taste you.” Toto mumbled against her lips. His voice was as heavy with arousal as his cock that was pressing into her. Not waiting for her answer, she struggled to catch her breath as he pulled her panties down the length of her shapely legs. When the fabric was over his shoulder, her legs instinctively parted and Toto was rewarded by the sight of her drenched cunt.

“I knew you’d be soaked. You kept squirming in your seat at dinner.” His words shocked her a little but she wasn’t rattled at his observation. Toto ran his finger along her slit and without breaking their intenseful gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked his finger clean

”So sweet. Just as I thought you would be.” With her left knee hooked into his arm, he buried his face in between her thighs as he gave her lazy strokes of his tongue against her clit. Natalia gasped as her back arched off the bed as he continued giving her languid strokes of his tongue, which was moving up and down the length of her slit. Toto was eating her pussy with so much intention, it sent shocks of pleasure up her spine.

His movements were meticulously calculated, every time that he did something that garnered a reaction out of her, Toto played on that until Natalia was gasping for air. He licked, pulled and sucked on her pussy until she was clawing at the sheets beneath her trembling body.

”Oh shit!” She gasped as he covered her now sensitive nub with his tongue and softly pushed to fingers inside of her, sliding them in and out of her, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements until he felt Nat’s thighs begin to quake on each side of his head.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Natalia cursed as she felt a familiar pressure mount in her lower abdomen. She tried to jerk away from him but Toto kneaded his free hand into her thigh, trapping her in place as he became more insistent to drink from her. He flicked his fingers against her spot, his tongue danced on her clit.

Then she exploded into his mouth.

Her legs trapped his body in between her thighs as her body twitched with each wave passing through her. Natalia’s head was still in the clouds as she finally relaxed to set him free. His hands trailed back up the length of her body and kneaded her breasts as his kisses followed up until his lips were against hers once more.

His lust clouded his eyes, Drinking from her, bringing her to climax, made him more ravenous. He wanted to devour her. The intention to do so very much made clear as he haphazardly threw his trousers and boxer briefs off. He held her hips as she tried to calm himself enough to let her reach for the strip of condoms that were on the bedside table.

He couldn’t put it on quickly enough as Natalia placed kisses on his chin and her hands on his back.

Toto sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he raised Nat’s leg to his shoulder before he finally made his move and sank into her pussy. Just as the tip breached her entrance, they both lost their breath due to the feeling of being connected.

“Baby.” She exhales as he completes the stroke by thrusting all the way forward and holding himself there.

“I know schatz. I know.” He groaned into her ear.

After fantasising about this very moment, for months on end, Toto concluded that nothing was better than the real thing. Yet somehow his mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. All that he could think about was how soft she was.

She was so soft. So sweet. So warm. So tight, warm and deliciously wet.

She fit him like a glove and he could feel as much as he could through the protective sleeve. Toto moved slightly which caused Nat to let out a cry.

“Please move. Please.” She whimpered into his ear.

He soon found a rhythm of slow , methodic strokes as he folded her body into itself. Her silk press began to revert back to its natural curls, the longer he worked her body into a sweat. Natalia’s lips parted with a sigh as he placed her other leg onto his shoulder and hooked his arms beneath hers and held onto her shoulders.

”Oh my god!” Natalia struggled for breath as his body slammed against the back of her thighs. The sexy sounds of their pleasure reverberated through the room.

”That’s it isn’t it schatz? That’s the spot.” He taunted her as he hammered his tip against your walls. He grinned as he saw the internal struggle to conjure up a response. He didn’t tease her too much though.

Toto himself was failing to contain his restraint from just how tightly Natalia was clutching onto him with each stroke. It was making him lightheaded as she threatened to drown him with just how soaked she was. He felt himself slipping into mindless pleasure as his thrusts became harder and more frantic.

It was only when he felt Nat’s leg beginning to tremble against his shoulders and his stomach began to tighten did Toto slow down. Natalia whined as she shifted her hips up to tempt him.

However, he didn’t fall for it.

Instead, he let her legs fall away from his shoulders but he still made sure that they were wrapped around his waist. His forearms dropped on either side of her head as his chest pressed into hers. Natalia’s hardened nipples tickled his skin as he rolled his hips as deep as she possibly could take him. He coupled his slow, deep thrusts with a circular motion, making sure that he touched every part of her that he could.

He hummed softly as he drew little cries from Natalia. He swallowed her moans and every sound that he could. They were only his - just for the night. For however long she would allow.

Natalia could feel resolve disappear from his frantic kisses and touches. The slapping of his thighs against her skin echoed in the room. The contact pinched at their skin in a bittersweet manner, the harsher the pounding became. But Nat took it all in stride.

His hand around her neck was the last straw.

She exploded around him without warning.

“That’s it baby.” He kissed the underside of her ear.

“Cum all over this dick.”Her teeth sunk into the skin of his shoulder as she let the orgasm ride her body. The repeated contraction of her walls pulled Toto down even further.

“Fuck!” He hissed in Nat’s ear as her cunt tightly squeezed his dick until he filled the condom with his seed.

They stayed in the same position for a moment before he pulled out of her. Nat sighed as she watched him dispose of the condom and pull his underwear back up his legs. His eyes followed him as he entered the bathroom and then came out with a wet cloth.

After grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, he came back to the bed and cleaned her up in silence. Natalia sighed with a smile on her face, loving the way his hands were handling her so delicately as if he wasn’t roughly gripping her flesh as he fucked into her minutes ago.

”Drink your water.” He mumbled before placing a kiss onto her thigh. Natalia giggled as she reached for the water bottle.

“Yes sir.” She teased as she took a gulp of the refreshing liquid.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” He asked as he began to place kisses on her torso before stopping to take a nipple into his mouth. Natalia gasped as her eyes flattered close to enjoy the feel of his warm mouth sucking on her nipple like she had been sucking on her clit earlier on in the night.

“3pm why?” Nat said, only able to answer when he moved his attention to her other nipple.

”I want to take you again … and again …” He spoke as he began to tower over her body. “And again. Until you’re so spent that I’m all you think about for days to come.”

His lips touched hers again as his body pushed her back into the disheveled sheets …

PRESENT DAY

”I want to take you again … and again … and again. Until you’re so spent that I’m all you think about for days to come.”

Those words were now haunting her as she sat at her desk. Of all the things Toto Wolff had ever said and done to her, these particular words haunted her the most.

Because of just how devastatingly true they were. No man after that had come close to how he had made her feel that night. A couple had come close but it was never the same.

It could never be the same.

When she left Malaysia the following afternoon, it had not occurred to her that it would be the last time that she would see Toto. Both of their respective careers kept them busy. The previous season of Formula One had overwhelmed him. The last year had not been kind to the team. The sport had not been kind to the team and it was beginning to show in the numbers.

All of that had led to this moment. Natalia was in her office with the reports of the team’s previous financial year and the CEO asking her for an incredible favour.

“It’ll only be for a couple of months.” He said.

“Six months is hardly a couple, Chris.” Chris Stevenson chuckled at the statement.

“You’re right but I need someone I can trust to go over there and oversee things.”

“And why couldn’t Tomlinson do it?” Oliver Tomlinson was the current Chief Operating Officer of the company and from the last she heard, Oliver and Toto were friends.

“You’re better with numbers. Two, you did Physics so I’m sure you understand the technical jargon better.”

Natalia frowned at the reasonsing. “I did Physics when I was like eighteen.”

“Doesn’t matter. Plus Wolff only agreed to do this if it was you.”

”Why?”

“I don’t know. A deep respect for you I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You guess?!” She sassed back and placed her hands on her waist.

”You know what I mean! Look, why are you opposing this? Do I need to know something?”

”No!” Natalia knew that she had said that a little too quickly for her liking. “I’m not opposing it for what you think. You’re basically asking me to audit the team just because they had a couple of bad years.”

“Two bad years with no titles, two bad cars, a shift in leadership and a few lost sponsors. All of that translates to a bad investment. And a bad investment means no money and no money means-.’

”Okay! I got the message.” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Wolff is not happy about this and quite frankly I don’t care. We need to get to the bottom of this before the season begins.”

Natalia was going to be Toto’s boss for six months. She could barely think of him without remembering the way he had ravished her that night. Now she had to work with him everyday for the next half year.

Fuck me. She thought to herself

#rosemoncherie #business affairs series #toto wolff #toto wolff x natalia danon #toto wolff x black oc #toto wolff fanfiction #tot wolff fanfic #toto wolff x black reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #black oc #black reader

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divineidolatry · 3 months

Text

CONSTANTLY IN THE DARKNESS — CHAPTER 1

— written by june.

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader*

rating: explicit (18+) — mind the tags, see masterlist for disclaimers

summary: against your wishes, you call the curtain on your relationship with coriolanus snow and walk out of his life for good. against your wishes, he waltzes back in like nothing's changed.

tags: exes to lovers, it's complicated, slow burn but they're constantly fucking, manipulation, toxic relationship, power play, unprotected sex, bdsm, dom!coriolanus, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, spit kink, bondage, pearl play, choking, shoe riding, degradation, dirty talk, brat taming, penetrative sex (piv), aftercare

taglist: comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist.

wordcount: 4,352

just before our love got lost you said "i am as constant as a northern star" and i said "constantly in the darkness, where's that at? if you want me i'll be in the bar."

“Coriolanus…” You drop the silver cutlery on the fine porcelain, the sound sharp enough that he winces. Good. This should hurt him as much as it hurts you. “What are we even doing anymore?”

His face holds that cold expression you can’t read, beautiful and impossible, a question you saw the first day you met him and you knew you wanted to crack him open.

You always knew he had ambition, and you possessed plenty to match. Power called to you from an early age, you’d just gotten smarter about you grabbed it. Still, he made you better. He made you sharper. And in turn, you could make him look soft enough to please.

But the parts of you that slotted together like perfect gears before had grown jagged and mismatched now. His ambitions mean more than you. They come before you. A part of you thinks it would be okay if he still made room for you at the end of the night, but it’s all perfunctory and dutiful.

“We need to talk. Actually talk.”

It’s not for a lack of trying to understand him, but there’s walls in Coryo that shift position, closing him off when you’re not careful enough. Talking with him turns into talking to him. He never did share much, even when you made it clear that you supported his ambitions, never troubling him with your own. You’re big girl, after all, independent and capable, you can hold your own value and underscore his. You know how to charm the worst of them and flatter the best of them, you are an asset beyond compare and yet he’s losing interest. Galling.

“I’ve been loyal, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I’ve kept clean in public so you can defile me in private. I play your game so well, and yet…” You flick your finger against the crystal wine glass, lipstick stains rimming the edge. You dressed to the nines tonight, giving him a last chance to look at you, at everything you offered him as a partner in every sense of the word. “You make me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

His silence hangs heavy and painful in the air between you two. There’s something so pristine and perfect about the room that itches in your gut, that sometimes makes you want to take the knife and stab him through the back of his hand just to see if he’d even flinch.

“Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

Oh, how icy his gaze is. It cuts right through you, past all your defenses.

These dinners, once bubbling with conversation and excited plans about the next chance you’d have to shift the board, have turned to quiet and perfunctory affairs now. He meets your eyes less and less on the university campus. You spend hours waiting for him in the quiet hallways on the top floor no one goes to, doing your seminar readings in the same hidden alcove where he once liked to make you moan so high a rumor had spread of a ghost haunting.

It doesn’t matter to you that he is busy, it mattered that he stopped including you, that he didn’t even try. And you can’t get through to him. It’s getting sad — worse, stale. On top of that, people are talking. Gossip loud enough that you could hear it from the back rows in lecture halls, of discord between Panem’s golden future and his leading lady. Bad metrics for both of you… and it fucking stings too.

His heart isn’t in your mouth anymore, and you are beginning to starve. And he’d let you.

You fold up the napkin, dropping it on top of the half-finished meal, knowing the waste will irk him. Whatever hook you still have in him you will pull on. You must. You refuse to go down without damages.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? It’s easier this way, me deciding to leave you, that way you won’t have to clean up the mess. That’s why you’ve been so cold, right?”

He doesn’t speak. Pushing the chair out, you get up and walk the length of the table, your heels clicking loud against the marble. You move close to him, press your body against his and feel the heat of his breath on your skin… but his expression does not shift, and you shake your head with a pained noise catching in your throat.

“I don’t think you are this cold,” you whisper, slipping your hand in under his shirt, pressing your fingers against his chest. His heart beats hard and strong. “I hope you realize when I’m gone…” You trail off, struggling with the words.

Silence. Again. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you try to reconcile this… and he is letting you flounder. Has he allowed you to ask for his time with the intention to give you nothing? The cruelty in that hurts even worse.

“Goodbye, Coriolanus.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek, scraping your nails over his skin, hoping it stings as much as his icy silence does. You gather your bag and coat, and leave his penthouse quietly.

In the elevator, you wipe at an errant tear. The air around you feels crushing but you cannot give in under pressure. You won’t.

For a few days, you don’t cry. You had foreseen this outcome to the conversation after all, made your preparations to leave as little behind as possible, and fortified yourself to understand that no matter how perfect a match you seemingly were for each other, you still actively had to choose one another. Whatever had consumed him also kept him from letting you in as he used to, and it meant he was no longer choosing you.

The barb still lodged itself deep in your chest, leaking poison all the same.

You go through the motions, brushing your hair, washing your face, studying. It’s in one of the lectures, the professor slipping through the lackluster material, that it hits like a fist between the ribs, and you clutch at your side remembering how Coryo would have made this make sense to you. It hits all at once how he’s not there, won’t be, he’s not going to make even the dullest media history class shine bright anymore.

When the tears come, it is Clemensia who wipes them away, lets your head rest in her lap, and offers to fetch the rest of your things. She was his friend first; you’d been a year under them in the Academy. When she comes back she doesn’t say if he reacted, though you doubt he was even at home. She strokes your hair, assuring you she won’t pick a side. Through all her care of you in the weeks to come, she proves her words, not letting you flinch away in public.

“Just because he plays a good game,” she reminds you, “doesn’t mean you can’t make a better move.”

You slowly get back on your feet, keeping her words in mind. She helps with applying your makeup on days when your hands are too shaky, keeping your perfectly crafted mask in place. She glues herself to your side as you attend classes, keeping it cordial with Coriolanus while your gaze slips past him. You forgot how good it felt to be someone’s priority.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” you ask one night, exasperated as she’s getting you ready for a party, squirming in your seat. You don’t feel ready for re-emerging into society, but what choice do you have? Crawl into a hole and vanish? You’d never give him the pleasure.

She rolls her eyes and gets up off the floor to fetch a dusty bottle of posca from the shelves.

“It’s not that different,” she says, handing a glass over to you. “I was in his corner too, and it bit me. Hard.” She grimaces, scratching at her wrist before rolling down the sleeve over her hands.

“Did you two…” You have wondered, after all, jealousy flickering at times like a dangerous question mark.

“Not like that! I just needed him to show up for me, to do this one thing, and he was busy chasing his own greatness.”

It's a relief to hear, mostly because you have an easier time believing her than him. “But you got over it.”

“I can’t fault him. If you’re here, it means something, and it’s not always flattering.” She wrinkles her nose at the posca even as she drinks it down. “When you want something so bad because you need to make sense of the world, to bring some sense of order to the chaos of life… I know you get it. He’s always been this way, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Her words are just a whisper as she pins curls in place on your head, her hand lingering to trace your chin as she examines your face.

Clemensia had taken a liking to doing these little things for you, drawing from a deep well of knowledge she’d amassed. It had become an outlet for her, creativity to couple with her own ambition. She liked to practice different looks on you before paring them down to a more fitting style suitable to current trends, but each flourish of her brush warmed your skin.

You knew that duality well — of wanting to create and struggling to find the time and place. Ever since you were small, your parents had clung to the idea that singing lessons and dance classes were of utmost importance, even keeping them going during the war. They wanted you to excel, rise in standing, and it had honed you.

Unbidden, one of his old comments floats up in your mind, making your breath stutter. ‘You have the prettiest voice of all the girls in Panem, do you know that?’ And while you scoffed then, your ego bloomed under his praise. ‘Tell me more about how much you love my voice, Coryo…’

“Hey… come back to me, you better not ruin the hard work I’ve just done, I don’t do hard work for just anyone, you know?” Clemmie teases, but you can see a stern look in her eyes. You don’t have a lot of time, and she isn’t keen to waste it. “We have somewhere to be soon, okay?”

You nod. She’s right. The Capitol’s numerous galas and grand events throughout the year had kept going despite your broken heart, and tonight is the Rose Ball, an extravagant gala held in the grand conservatory with an orchestra playing and the guest list consisting of only the names of the highest esteem in the Capitol. And your name was still on it. Tonight, you intend to make sure it isn’t the last invite sent your way, no matter what.

Clemensia finishes with a lipstick red as wine, smiling as she puts her hands on your shoulders and turns you to the mirror.

“Look at you,” she says, tilting your chin up so the light catches the pearlescent shimmer dusted on your skin. “Everyone will be falling for you. And he will have no choice but to watch what he lost.”

You shiver in excitement.

You share the ride with some people Clemensia knows, and while they gossip away, you sit alone with your thoughts, the mask wavering for a moment. This is the first formal gathering you’re attending since the split… Several months of picking up the pieces to pretend like everything’s fine, to recoup as much of your image as possible, while still doing him the courtesy to not hurt his. You have been so good, and still people look at you as if you made a mistake and not him.

Tonight would be harder to find a bathroom to tuck away into, an empty study room to make your safe haven. No cover to hide behind, so you needed to don the appropriate armor, to appear unaffected. To tell a tale to outdo his. After all, Clemensia’s right, everyone can be made to want you. You will move on, and you will make him regret it while you do. You will remind him that your heart isn’t a delicate plaything, but a fire furious enough to match his.

You play with the pearls around your neck, the matching gold and pearl earrings bouncing against your cheek as the car passes over cobblestoned streets. They are the very same Coriolanus gifted you on your first anniversary, and weighted with memories. You thought about throwing them away immediately after the break-up, but that would have said something about him winning, and you can’t stand that.

Clemensia, hawk-eyed as ever, notices your nervous fiddling and nudges your foot with hers right as the car pulls up to the entrance. “Shall we then?” Clemensia offers you her arm and you take it gratefully. You revel in the sync of your heels clicking as you ascend the hard steps to your most important battlefield yet.

Past the heavy gilded doors, the gala’s milling crowd slows down as you enter, eyes drawn to you. You hold your head high, gripping Clemensia’s arm tight. No one here will get the pleasure of seeing you flinch. They announce your names, and you smile, brilliant and beautiful. The corset underneath your rose-red dress keeps your back straight, reminiscent of old elegances that has the old garde softening for you.

You think you spot him on the far end of the room, but the shadows are long and the lights dimmed. His gaze feels a certain way though, and there’s a wicked warmth in your chest that only he has ever made you feel.

“I’m going to do reconnaissance,” Clemensia says as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Let me get the lay of the land.”

“Go, go.” You wave her off, confidently stepping into a circle that parts to let you in amongst them, laughing at the right time. If there is one dance you know better than any other, it is this: the social graces and manners expected of you in these cutthroat places, where the marble runs red with lies and blood. Your heels know where to step even when sleepwalking.

While your mask does not waver, you sure feel bare under all the scrutiny, hungry gazes roving over every bared slip of skin on your arms. After what feels like hours of compliments, cruelties and layered comments, you find a brief escape in an alcove on the second floor, rubbing at your sore ankles as you catch your breath, head spinning. Roses weigh in on all sides of you, enchanting and heady. If you had to say something nice, it’s that Coriolanus knows how to work with the best event planners the Capitol has to offer.

You rip off a handful of petals, crushing them until the fragrant oils spill forth, and press them down the front of your dress before you get up to continue mingling.

The night is long: a dance with the Featherpillow boy a year your junior who easily dances circles around most of the men here; a glass of champagne with the Fairweather twins as you chat about the latest fashion trends and they enviously compliment your pearls; Clemensia whisking you away to a polite and stiff conversation with the Ravenstills. The night goes on for some time in this manner, gliding between dances, advances, and gossip. No one can seem to keep you in one place.

And everywhere you go, you feel the constant, unrelenting pierce of eyes on you. Not just the masses… his.

You are showing him up. Everyone knows it. Coming to his event with seemingly no hard feelings, dressed like a classical painting, fielding every conversation with natural ease and charisma. Everyone wants to see you, talk to you, be seen with you. It’s a move that will have lesser men folding their hands.

Coryo isn’t.

There’s no shortage of attention in his corner, the constant requests for a word from important political seats and fellow society greats, and invitations to dance which he only takes when you do. The undertow between you is palpable. He is an inevitability, you can feel it when you draw close during dances, gazes brushing past each other.

He is throwing you off, little by little, his smile blistering bright and dangerous across the room, and he catches you looking. Just once. And once is all he needs.

You swipe a glass of posca from a passing waiter, knocking it back in one go. This wasn’t part of your plan.

It definitely isn’t a part of the plan that Coriolanus appears in front of you, taking the empty glass away from you with a cool smile.

“May I have the next dance?” he asks, voice perfectly warm and polite. Every single eye watches the two of you with rapt attention as he offers his hand out to you.

He knows you can’t turn him down now, and he is relishing in it. His eyes are lit up, a fire in them you have not seen in months. You put your hand in his, beaming up at him.

“It would be my pleasure,” you say, dragging out the last word until it drips like daggers from your lips.

The two of you assume the starting position, you with one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and you can’t help but notice that it is all too comfortable a role to slip back into: the perfect pair, polished and primed for the show. A lone pianist begins to play, and you recognize the tune as one of your very favorites… one you played for Coriolanus more than once on the grand piano in his penthouse.

Maintaining a polite expression, you shoot him a look. “Did you request this piece?”

“It’s your favorite, is it not?” He keeps it civil. More than civil, he keeps it warm, saccharine sweet even as he continues to lead you without a single misstep while giving the audience a perfect dance.

“I thought you’d forget about me,” you say, testing the waters. “Like you do to everyone who no longer interests you.”

“You think I’d be that cruel?”

“I know you would be.”

A hum rumbles in his chest and you feel it against your body, heating your cheeks. The dance goes on, gliding and spinning, the room growing dizzying either from the drinks or the way he won’t drop eye contact with you.

This much attention from him was not the plan, definitely not the goal, and as the tempo slows for the twinkling end of the piece, you think you might fall over if not for the sheer adrenaline coursing through you… and the firmness of his grip, fingers digging into the back of your corset.

As the music falls quiet, there’s a brief moment where you could hear a pin drop, the tension in the air releasing as the audience applauds. You blush, bowing to him, simmering with the dual-edged feeling of having been made a spectacle of — and a part of you enjoyed it because it was him doing it.

He offers his arm to you and you hesitate, wanting to search out Clemensia in the crowd, but with the expectant eyes still on you, it’s hardly the time to turn him down.

Shit.

You take his arm with trepidation, chewing the inside of your cheek as he leads you to the upper level of the conservatory. As you pass by Clemensia you shoot her a pleading glance, but she cannot save you, and you both know it.

He knows the place like the back of his hand and leads you to a tucked-away alcove crowned with rose arches. The plush settee is comfortable but small, and you wind up pressed against his side when you sit down. Worse still, it’s like he delights in tormenting you as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in.

“Did you enjoy doing that?” With a gentle huff, you finally speak your mind, voice hushed. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath, of his entire body, and yours never forgot how good he could make you feel, aching for him like a traitor. “Did you want to make a fool of me?”

He does nothing to assuage the pained curiosity of your words, tutting as he reaches up to finger one of your earrings. “No need. You and I can both agree you made plenty spectacle of yourself all on your own tonight, darling.”

You hold back from chewing him out, refusing to align his glance to his. It always frustrated him back then and it still does, as he moves his hand to your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Hard time letting go?”

He knows just how to stoke the fire in you. “Of you? Never.”

“As you say.” He rubs the fabric of your skirt between his fingers. “You seemed all too comfortable letting everyone reach out to pull you around tonight, truly playing the belle of the ball, hm?”

“That’s how the Capitol landscape is and you know it. I was not trying to upstage you.”

He tuts at that. “You think that is why I’m upset?”

You furrow your brow. “What else would it be?”

“Because for all your flitting about tonight…” He lowers his voice, and you lean in instinctively. “You wouldn’t have deigned to give me the time had I not put you on the spot.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mental game board in disarray. “You’re jealous?”

You’ve learned to not cry over him anymore. Even when it hurts, when the three years down the drain remind themself like a splinter under your nail, you’ve learned better control than that. But this time, you feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes. When one slides down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb.

Damn it, damn him, damn it all. You swallow.

“After everything, you are jealous? I didn’t even come here with someone else.”

“You came here with Clemensia.”

“Yes, a friend.”

“She was my friend first.”

“Oh, don’t be a child.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his chest. He holds your hand there, and when the first feeling that runs through your heart is a sliver of hope, you know you’re done for.

“I’ve missed you.”

Check mate.

He wins again.

You try to pull away, but he resists, pressing you closer into him. For all that hurt, all the frustration, when you look into his eyes, when your gaze flits down to his lips, you still want to crush his lips with yours, to slot right into his life like you never left, and that thought gnaws at you. You hate yourself for it. And your mask is not that strong…

“You really could have thought about that earlier, Coriolanus. You had every opportunity.”

He seems content with not elaborating on why he froze you out, left you in the dark, and it frustrates you. His only response, in fact, is to act on the heat of the moment, pulling you into a kiss.

It’s greedy and hungry and he bites at your lower lip, causing you to whine. His lips are soft and taste of sugary pastries and finely aged wines and oh, it would be so easy to fall head first into how good it feels, how much you missed this, to climb on his lap right here…

You lick into his mouth, wanting all you can take before you part from him, unable to forget where you are, that there is no privacy in this place, and that you can’t risk everything for him — however badly you want to. When you pull away, you see the mess you’ve made of him, lipstick on the corners of his mouth, and it thrills to know he’s made one of you too.

“Not here,” you say. But it isn’t a no. It’s hardly a stop. It’s a challenge and you desperately want him to rise to it.

He waves over one of his attendants to assist in making you both presentable, leaving you in the seat once he is taken care of. You hold back a protest, ready to settle back into the shadows of his ambition, but then overhear him whispering about “ready the car” and “make sure they have a good time” before he turns back to you. There’s the fire that could burn the whole of the Capitol down if he wanted it. There’s the hunger that could have you willing to offer him of yourself just to sate him. It leaves you speechless. It leaves you burning.

He whisks you away out the back entrance to the waiting car and once seated in the back, partitions pulled up, you spare no time climbing on top of him, arms wrapping around his neck.

He fingers your earrings again, hand trailing down to your necklace. “Our first anniversary, hmm? Do you remember why I had the rose engraved in the gold?”

You aren’t interested in reminiscing anymore, you want the present moment, you want to burn your mouth on his. You kiss him again, rocking against him as you do, relishing in the way he tightly grabs your hips, helps you keep grinding down as he lifts up the skirt higher, skimming the top of your thigh-high stockings.

“Missed you too.” Your breath is hot and ragged against his skin.

You look over his face, bodies still slowly rocking together, and when your semi-glazed eyes meet his, you see nothing but fire, dangerous and warming, everything you have ever wanted from him. In a craze, you find yourself begging.

“Please… make me yours again.” It’s a romantic notion, and it will haunt you come morning, but now you are nothing but a bundle of nerves and want, all ripe for his picking.

“Patience,” he breathes against your neck, his lips on the pearls. “We’re almost there.”

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #corionlanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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neil-gaiman · 2 years

Note

Hi Neil! We were talking about Puck of Pook's Hill in one of my seminars, and we were wondering if your Puck in The Sandman was inspired by that book?

Yes and no. Puck of Pook's Hill is hugely influential on me and the way I think about the land and Sussex, and I'm sure it was an influence on Sandman #19.

But my wild Puck is closer to the Robin Goodfellow of the ballad:

From Oberon, in fairy land, The king of ghosts and shadows there, Mad Robin I, at his command, Am sent to view the night-sports here. What revel rout Is kept about, In every corner where I go, I will o'ersee, And merry be, And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho

More swift than lightning can I fly About this airy welkin soon, And, in a minute's space, descry Each thing that's done below the moon. There's not a hag Or ghost shall wag, Or cry, 'ware goblins! where I go; But Robin I Their feats will spy, And send them home with ho, ho, ho!

Whene'er such wanderers I meet, As from their night-sports they trudge home, With counterfeiting voice I greet, And call them on with me to roam: Through woods, through lakes; Through bogs, through brakes; Or else, unseen, with them I go, All in the nick, To play some trick, And frolic it, with ho, ho, ho!

Sometimes I meet them like a man, Sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound; And to a horse I turn me can, To trip and trot about them round. But if to ride My back they stride, More swift than wind away I go, O'er hedge and lands, Through pools and ponds, I hurry, laughing, ho, ho, ho!

When lads and lasses merry be, With possets and with junkets fine; Unseen of all the company, I eat their cakes and sip their wine! And, to make sport, I puff and snort: And out the candles I do blow: The maids I kiss, They shriek—Who's this? I answer nought but ho, ho, ho!

Yet now and then, the maids to please, At midnight I card up their wool; And, while they sleep and take their ease, With wheel to threads their flax I pull. I grind at mill Their malt up still; I dress their hemp; I spin their tow; If any wake, And would me take, I wend me, laughing, ho, ho, ho!

When any need to borrow aught, We lend them what they do require: And, for the use demand we nought; Our own is all we do desire. If to repay They do delay, Abroad amongst them then I go, And night by night, I them affright, With pinchings, dreams, and ho, ho, ho!

When lazy queans have nought to do, But study how to cog and lie: To make debate and mischief too, 'Twixt one another secretly: I mark their gloze, And it disclose To them whom they have wronged so: When I have done, I get me gone, And leave them scolding, ho, ho, ho!

When men do traps and engines set In loop-holes, where the vermin creep, Who from their folds and houses get Their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep; I spy the gin, And enter in, And seem a vermin taken so; But when they there Approach me near, I leap out laughing, ho, ho, ho!

By wells and rills, in meadows green, We nightly dance our heyday guise; And to our fairy king and queen, We chant our moonlight minstrelsies. When larks 'gin sing, Away we fling; And babes new born steal as we go; And elf in bed We leave in stead, And wend us laughing, ho, ho, ho!

From hag-bred Merlin's time, have I Thus nightly revelled to and fro; And for my pranks men call me by The name of Robin Good-fellow. Fiends, ghosts, and sprites, Who haunt the nights, The hags and goblins do me know; And beldames old My feats have told, So vale, vale; ho, ho, ho!

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afieldinengland · 1 year

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#to the herb wine anon: i’m so sorry i didn’t see the letter you sent on monday #i’m not in a state to answer at length right now but as it turns out they apparently don’t allow people to change seminar groups #even though a girl literally told me she was able to move and ‘everybody’s moving around at the moment’ (but maybe they meant unit changes?)#i tried to say i didn’t think the class would suit me and the response essentially told me to cope with it. so #there’s nothing else i can do #it’s fine. it’s fine. i wish i wouldn’t make such a meal of these things

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lanitalay · 3 months

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One day : Chapter 1

Azriel x Reader

a/n: I saw the netflix series, bawled my eyes out then thought it would make a great Az x reader story.

warnings: anxiety, drinking

word count: 1555k

Masterlist

Summer Solstice was your favorite holiday. Each year you look forward to celebrating the longest day of the year in the most beautiful city in the world. This year would be slightly different, as you were no longer a student, having recently graduated to proper healer. So, for the first time in years, you were able to stay up until the sun set and came back out because there were no readings to do, no papers to write and no seminars to attend the next day. You had informed Madja that you would not be coming in tomorrow and she had understood. “I was young and capricious as well, long, long ago.”

The day was spent at the Sidra, lounging and playing in the sand and the water. It was packed, thousands of fae clamoring to the shore to watch the High Lord’s ship pass by. Cheering for it. When the sun set your friends dragged you back to their apartment to get ready for the night ahead. The Rainbow would be filled with street vendors, music and art.

“I can’t possibly drink more” you gagged as more sparkling wine was shoved in your hand. “Suck it up!” Nomi laughed and poured a glass for herself. Bec did your hair, curling it in loose waves. Fran did your makeup, smoking out dark shadows in your eye lid. Nomi gave you a short, short dress. The four of you admired the collective beauty in the mirror, even if not one of you could see straight.

“Onwards!” Fran called and opened the door to let everyone stumble out.

A few hours after drinking, eating and dancing in the street, Bec insisted she needed to sit down. You were looking around to see where you could take her when you spotted a familiar sign. “Let’s go to Rita’s, she’ll let us sober up in there” you guided your friends through the crowd, weaving in between all kinds of fae until arriving at the sanctuary.

Rita recognized you and waved you in, sitting you down in one of the booths. The place was not quiet by any means, but the seats were cushioned and Bec sighed in relief as she took off her heels under the table. “These shoes rubbed my feet raw,” she hissed. You waved your hand over her feet and channeled some of your healing powers to her blisters. “Oh my gods, thank you, y/n.” You laughed and announced to the table “I’m going to get more drinks.”

It had been ten minutes of standing by the bar, trying to get someone’s attention. “Hey! I need liquor!” You heard a low laugh behind you and turned around to see a looming figure, wings tight against his back, biting back a smile. “What’s so funny?” Always confrontational when drunk. He shook his head “nothing, can I order something for you?”

You considered his offer. He was much, much taller than you. If he wanted, he could reach through the bar and grab a bottle of wine. There was a cloudiness to him, or maybe you were far too drunk. You nodded and told him what the table wanted. He waved the barkeep down and placed the order. “Are you the spymaster?” He nodded once. “I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand, as much as you could within the multitude of party goers. He shook it gently with a calloused hand “nice to meet you, y/n.”

In a few minutes the four drinks were on the bar, Azriel helped you carry them back to the table. When your friends saw who was behind you their jaws practically unhinged. “Thank you, Spymaster.” “Azriel is fine” he said with a smile, and gods… that smile. “Thank you, Azriel.”

You wanted to drown yourself in the Sidra when Nomi, ever fearless, shouted over the music “does the Spymaster dance?”

“I could, with the right partner” he turned his head to look at you. “Are you inviting me to dance?"

“Yes,” now it was him who had a hand stretched your way. You did not have to convince yourself to dance with him. Putting the glasses on the table, you turned and took his hand, letting him lead you right to the dance floor.

It must have been hours that you spent dancing that night. At one point your friends came over to let you know they were going to call it. Azriel asked if you wanted to leave as well but his hips were grinding against your behind and his arms were firmly holding your waist. So you shook your head “no.” When the song changed he spun you, slotting your legs together, keeping you impossibly close. So close his nose nudged yours. By then, last calls were being made and you asked Azriel if he could walk you back to your apartment.

He led you out of Rita’s and you pointed in the direction of your place. Azriel did not let go of your hand until you stopped in front of a building and said “this is me.” He looked at the stone building, decorated with flower boxes on the windows “it's nice.”

“Can I get you some water? Something to eat?” The night could not end like this. You didn’t want this night to end at all. So when he nodded you beamed and opened the door, walking up the three flights of stairs to get to your apartment. “I have bread and…” you looked through the cabinets and were embarrassed that you had not stocked up on any groceries in weeks “chocolate chip cookies, but they are probably stale.”

“I’ll try a cookie” he bit into it and grimaced “it’s very stale, throw that away.” You giggled and threw the cookies in the trash. When you turned back to face him he was right in front of you. A hair's breadth away. “You know you’re quite beautiful,” you gulp, “you’re very handsome too.”

His hands come up to graze your cheek, “I really want to kiss you.”

“So kiss me” it doesn’t take him more than a second to bring your lips together. You hold onto his shoulders and he pushes you pack until he helps you jump on the counter. Your legs spread, wanting him to get closer, closer. He pulls back to ask “where’s your room?” You point to the door behind him and he grabs your thighs, carrying you towards a proper place to bed you.

Ever so gently, he lays you down on your bed but you stand, turning so your back faces him. “I can’t reach the zipper,” with a feather-light touch he grabs the tiny piece of metal and slides it all the way down. You pull off the straps and let the fabric pool at your feet. Turn again to face this, this time completely bare.

“Your turn,” you start to undo his buttons but he quickly takes over, throwing his clothes on the floor next to yours. Now you lay on the mattress and he settles on top of you, latching his mouth to yours once again. “Are you alright?” You notice his heart is beating erratically and place a palm on his chest to assess. “Yes, I’m-” “You’re having heart palpitations, lie down, let me do something” you push him on his back, hand still on his chest as you try to soothe the distressed organ.

“I’m a healer, I’m going to send some magic to your heart to calm it down. It won't hurt but it might feel tingly.” You bring all your concentration to his heart. “It’s really fine-” “Shh, be quiet.”

A few minutes go by and you are satisfied with his pulse. “Does that happen often? How much did you drink tonight?”

“Sometimes and a lot.”

“Well try to limit your drinking to water for the next few weeks, I’ll tell Madja to check up on you soon.”

“Perfect, now can we get back to-”

“Absolutely not, you are going to sleep right now, stay here.” You hop off the bed again and throw on a night gown, and throw him pajama pants an ex had left behind. Azriel looks defeated on the bed. “Sorry to kill the mood, but I vowed to put my patients' health first. It's not something I can turn off.”

“Now I’m your patient?”

“Everyone is a potential patient,” you say and fluff a pillow for him to lay on. “You don’t need to do that,” he grumbles.

“Just relax.” You fluff your own pillow and lay down next to him. “It happens to me too. Madja calls them panic attacks, they can happen for no reason or a million reasons. It sucks.”

“We didn’t need to stop, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. We can try again some other time.”

“So you want to see me again?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“The Spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t scare you?”

“Ha, good one. I can’t be scared of a patient and don't flatter yourself. You're too pretty to be scary” you teased.

“Come here,” he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. His heart steady.

“Tomorrow I’ll regret not drinking any water,” you mumble, words spilling into each other as the weight of the day crashes into you, sleep taking over.

#acotar #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x oc #a court of fey and flowers #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin

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queenshelby · 1 month

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The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Three: Confrontation

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Over the next few days, you and Cillian carried on with your usual routine, but there was a noticeable distance between the two of you. In class, he would sit as far away from you as possible, and his answers in seminars were brief and to the point. You couldn't help but wonder if you had hurt his feelings, but exhaustion eventually set in. You were going through a demanding period at work, and you had to remind yourself that you had made the right decision.

You knew that Cillian was a mere distraction, a fleeting moment of desire that you couldn't afford to indulge in. As a professor, you were always conscious of the power dynamic that existed between you and your students.

You knew that your position meant that you were in a position of authority, and that opening yourself up to a romantic relationship was not only inappropriate but also risky.

You knew that you had to maintain your professionalism, no matter how difficult it might be.

And so, you carried on, putting your attraction to Cillian to the side as you focused on your work.

Your days were long and demanding. Not only were you busy with work, but you were also going through an ugly separation and divorce.

One evening, you left the campus late, feeling drained and exhausted and decided to call into a bar nearby. You knew that there was live music playing and thinking that some music might help to lift your spirits, you decided that it would be the perfect remedy to an otherwise exhausting day.

The busy bar was crowded with people, most of whom were students, their laughter and chatter filling the room.

Just as you ordered a glass of wine though, someone tapped you on the shoulder. Surprised, you turned around to find the man you were still married to standing there. James and you had been separated for months but the way things had ended were rather unfortunate for you both. He had been unfaithful to you , his infidelity leaving you heartbroken, angry, and insidiously doubtful about yourself, despite your professional achievements and your generally charmed life.

You had been trying hard to avoid him at university where he worked as a professor in a different faculty and seeing him here, tonight, hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart pounding heavily and sweat starting to gather on your brow.

His lips quirked into a half-smile and you struggled not to let him see how much his unexpected presence unnerved you.

"James," you said, managing a pleasant but measured tone. "I didn't expect to run into you here. Bars like these aren't usually your scene."

"I know," he replied, his eyes scanning your face. "But you took pretty much everything I owned, so I'm kind of short on cash these days and the drinks here are cheap," he mused, but you immediately felt irritated.

"Everything you owned?" you chuckled bitterly. "You mean everything I paid for from the money I had inherited when my grandmother passed away?" you said, your voice tight with anger. You hated that he could still get under your skin, but you refused to let him see that he affected you.

"I made a mistake and I apologised, but clearly that wasn't good enough. You just went right ahead and filed for seperation," James said, his tone turning defensive, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his victim mentality, that and his somewhat warped sense of reality. "You put me out on the street and then you avoided me. You keep your distance at work and you don't pick up my calls. It's not fucking fair that, after five years, the only person I get to talk to now is your fucking attorney," he snapped, and you could see a tick forming in his jaw.

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your temper. "Look, James, I'm not doing this again. I'm sorry that our separation has been hard on you, but that's not my problem anymore. You made your bed, now lie in it," you said firmly, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But James wasn't done yet. "You know why I cheated on you Y/N?" he asked , taking a step closer to you, and the anger bubbling within you threatened to boil over. But you instead focused on the words needed to be said.

"James, I really don't want to have this discussion with you right now," you responded, taking a step back, but he followed, closing in on you and invading your personal space.

"No, but I think you should hear it," he said, a hint of malice in his voice. "I cheated on you because you simply weren't enough for me Y/N. You became boring and predictable which, really, was a shame because it all started off so well."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and it took all your strength not to react. Leaving your almost full glass of wine standing there, you reached for your coat and bag, needing air. You needed to escape the stifling atmosphere and the suffocating weight of James's words.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to show any weakness.

"I gotta go," you muttered, still fumbling to loop your arms through your coat sleeves.

James moved to grab your arm, but you jerked it away, taking a hasty step back. "Don't fucking touch me," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing that the entire bar's patrons looked at both of you.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that," James pleaded, holding his hands up defensively. "I didn't mean—,"

"No, you meant every single word. And that's fine, James. I moved on and it's time for you to let go, too."

You turned to leave, but James's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You're just going to run away again? Just like you always do when things get tough?"

You spun on your heel to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. "No, James. I'm not running away. I'm taking care of myself. I'm moving on, and you should too.

I wish you all the best, James, I really do." You said the words coldly, all the warmth and love you once felt for him gone. You had given him your best, and he had tossed it aside for something fleeting and temporary. You would not let him make you feel small and insignificant; you were stronger than that but, just as you stormed out of the bar, you collided with yet another familiar face.

This time, it was Cillian. He had been at a table near the entrance, nursing a beer, but his attention had been fixated on you.

Seeing you clash with James had stirred something inside of him and, as seen through his eyes, you looked resolute, yet hurt. The pain in your expression was almost unbearable to watch, and there was an overwhelming urge to reach out to you and offer comfort, except he was unsure how to proceed as you tried hard to ignore his presence.

"Hey, Miss Y/LN. Just wait a sec," Cillian called out to you as you tried to slip past him, not wanting to deal with him right now. Your emotions were already running high, and you didn't think you could handle another run-in with someone who had a hold on you. However, before you knew it, Cillian's hand was on your arm, gently tugging you back towards him. "Are you okay?" he wanted to know before making a rather blunt statement. "I couldn't help but notice your disagreement or something with Professor Douchbag over there," Cillian trailed off delicately, gesturing subtly towards James, his expression filled with concern.

You couldn't help but chuckle, a bitter sound that vaguely resembled amusement. "He is actually my ex-husband," you corrected him matter-of-factly, rubbing your temple with the tips of your fingers.

Cillian looked at you, a number of emotions playing across his features before curiosity edged out the others. "Your ex-husband? Really?" Cillian asked, baffled. "You were married to that guy?" he ought to confirm and you nodded solemnly, a sad smile forming on your lips. "Unfortunately that is a yes," you said as you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. "I think it's best if I head home," you stated, glancing past Cillian towards the street, the crisp air lightly brushing against your skin.

However, Cillian was not about to let you leave just like that. Not after having seen the sour turn of events that had unfolded before his very eyes.

He noticed the distress plastered across your face, the tears threatening to spill over, and before he could think twice about it, he found himself speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

"I don't know what he did or say to you, but I can tell you this - you can do so much better than this guy. He seems like a real self-important jerk at uni and you are beautiful and smart, so, uhm...I don't know..." Cillian said, honesty and sincerity etched onto every syllable he uttered. "You just deserve more than that."

His voice cracked ever so slightly, revealing the hidden depth of his protectiveness and concern for you. A wave of gratitude washed over you as you turned to look at him, really look at him, for the first time in what felt like ages. Your shield of indifference faltered as you met Cillian's tender regard. Your vision blurred as you tried to prevent your oncoming tears from falling. He reached out tentatively, his warm fingers gently wiping away an escaped tear from your cheek.

You sniffled, trying to collect yourself, and managed a feeble smile. "Thank you, Cillian. That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time," you breathed, leaning into his touch for the briefest moment before collecting yourself. "And I appreciate your kindness, but I should really be heading home now."

Despite this, Cillian couldn't seem to shake this newfound curiosity about you. Perhaps it was the vulnerable, broken woman he had witnessed earlier, the unmistakable pain in her voice and the tears in her eyes, all thanks to James' vicious words. Or perhaps it was the courage you showed as you confronted him, your strength a stark contrast to the fragility he had just witnessed.

"Let me walk you home. It's late , and I don't want you wandering around alone," Cillian offered softly, remnants of his charming smile lingering. An unfamiliar sense of vulnerability rose within you. Normally, you brushed off such advances with ease, but Cillian was different. He was young, sincere, and impossible to ignore.

"I think that would be really improper, seeing that you are my student and all," you reminded him but, this time around, Cillian ought to argue.

"How so? I am just walking you home to make sure you get there safely. Besides, isn't it our university's policy to keep an eye out for each other, especially when it comes to safety?" Cillian reasoned sheepishly. "You even said so yourself in one of your lectures," he added, hoping you would relent and allow him to accompany you.

"Alright , that creeps me out a bit but I guess you do have a point there," you joked nervously, finally abandoning your tough exterior as you let out soft laughter, still in shock about this unexpected turn of events, but wary and distrustful at the same time. Stepping out of the cozy pub, you were greeted by a plateau of darkness interrupted by intermittent pools of yellowish light emanating from surrounding street lamps; illuminating swatches of the narrow sidewalk and foggy pavement in oblong shapes.

" Where do you live, Miss. Y/LN?" Cillian asked, briefly breaking the silence enveloping them since they left the pub. The brisk wind whistling softly around them launched a shower of gold and red-colored leaves above.

"Not far from here. Just a few blocks away, off College Road," you revealed, adjusting the lapels of your trench coat against the onslaught of the cool evening breeze. "How about you Cillian? Do you live on Campus?" you inquired, looking at him as you both kept walking. The crunching sound of dried leaves with every step punctuated the silence between you.

"Nah, I can't afford that. I still live with my parents in Douglas," Cillian replied, sounding a little embarrassed. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Being an ambitious young man, Cillian was no stranger to working odd jobs to support himself while studying but you knew yourself that working here and there didn't really pay enough.

As you walked side by side, the quiet, tense energy between you simmered underneath the surface. You kept stealing glances at him, and each time your eyes met, Cillian would quickly look away, his cheeks flushed.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, even though you knew it was inappropriate.

There was just something about him that drew you in, despite all the reasons you shouldn't feel this way.

As you neared your apartment building, a sudden silence fell between you.

You both knew what was coming next, and neither of you was quite sure how to handle it.

Finally, you reached your building, and you turned to face him.

"Well, this is me," you said, your voice hesitant. You don't know why, but you didn't want this moment to end, didn't want to say goodnight and go your separate ways.

Cillian looked up at your building, towering above you both, then back at you. "Right," he said, his voice low. He paused for a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his head. You wondered what he was thinking, what was going on behind those deep blue eyes of his. Finally, he seemed to make a decision, and he looked at you again, his expression serious.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Y/LN?" he said, addressing you with a formality that was endearing in its earnestness.

"Of course, Cillian," you replied, mirroring his formality but unable to suppress the slight tremble in your voice.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his question, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

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