inureflower

[inureflower]

queen.. ♡

[inureflower]

rereading the hunger games and i CANNOT stop thinking about what haymitch and peeta’s individual interview training session must’ve gone. like

haymitch: so what’s your angle you wanna go for how do we want to portray you

peeta: I Have Been In Love With Katniss For 12 Years

haymitch: oh word?

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me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have an idea

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mdni 🃏

being taken from the streets by a fellow demigod except they don’t take you to camp half blood, they take you to this cushy cruise ship called the princess andromeda.

they introduce you to their leader, luke castellan, who smirks cheekily at you and tells you all about his movement against the gods.

“i have a feeling that you’re going to fit in here.”

going on little missions for him, moving up in his ranks until you’re practically his second in command.

finding him in the state room one day, and he’s fuming.

i’m talking a jawbone clenching, chest heaving sort of anger.

maybe percy thwarted him again. maybe kronos was giving him attitude. that didn’t matter.

what mattered was that at least you were there — his second in command, ready to do whatever he wanted to help him relax. you would listen to him always.

and so when he tells you in that authoritative, leader of an army voice to take off your shirt, you do. when he tells you to take off your pants — ah, ah, slowly — you do.

and when he bounds over, wraps his hands around your thighs and hitches you up onto the nearest desk, you are more than ready to meet his lips with yours. your moan is a weak whisper in his ear when he pulls you by your asscheeks and presses his crotch against the thin fabric of your panties. it breaks into something louder when he bites down on your collarbone, and then the space between your neck and shoulder.

you sigh when his fingers run gently over the lacy edges of your underwear before pulling them to the side and letting the air reach your already wet pussy.

“always ready for me, huh?”

then he’s messily taking his own jeans off, unzipping them halfway before he looses patience and yanks them down to his thighs, pulling his cock out of his underwear — the red tip leaking precum and making your mouth water.

his thrusts are angry, his huffs and groans echoing around the room. you’re sure the guards at the door can hear you, but neither of you care.

you come once, twice — before he is tightening his grip and finishing inside you. he cleans you up, pulls you down, and sends you off with a smack to the ass and a chuckle.

“thanks for that, sweets.”

[inureflower]

little fic inspired by this post by @murdrdocs - no editing because i pumped this out in half an hour and i want people to know how much i would pay for someone to do this to me

tw: MDNI! 18+ content, slight blood kink, dacryphilia, face fucking, slight dubcon if you squint, semi-public sex, reader is obsessed with being clean

your dad had an obsession with cleanliness. when you were a young girl, you never noticed a speck of dust on the counter or a crumb on the floor. you did chores frequently, and you were always lectured when you had a hair out of place or an untucked shirt.

perhaps that’s where you had gotten it from. the slightest indication of something being messy, of something going wrong, sent you over the edge. plans were meant to be made for specific times, and routines were the best way to structure things. so you’d wake up at 5:30 each morning, dressing in a pink sports bra, pink leggings, and matching pink trainers. you finished it off with a pink bow folded left over right, in the same direction you applied your lipgloss. you walked towards the sword fighting arena, reaching the doors as soon as the clock hit six.

you walked over to your usual area, setting your metal water bottle down with a soft clanging noise.

you were thankful that the dirty gym floor was not your only option, instead choosing to bring your own yoga mat. the pristine pink rolled out over stained blue, covering up years’ worth of demigod training. you’d prefer to work out over something less icky, but the aphrodite cabin was crowded enough - and this was preferable to the bare grass.

you pretended not to notice the hermès’ boy in the center of the arena. a layer of sweat coated his skin generously as he dove back and forth, practicing intricate techniques you couldn’t even fathom using.

he peeled off his camp shirt slowly, turning towards you and meeting your eyes. he sent you a wink, clearly aware that you had just been ogling him. you blush deeply and look down, choosing instead to pick at the skin on the outside of your thumbs.

that was the first sign he noticed. your pristine image could be worn down. he wanted to use it against you.

the first night he grabbed your wrist while you were picking at your skin. he brought your bleeding fingers up to his mouth and wrapped his tongue around them firmly, maintaining eye contact as he sucked. he nearly combusted at the pretty little whimper you let out, clenching your thighs together. you were wearing those light pink leggings you loved, so he could see the wetness forming anyway. he let your fingers go with a ‘pop’ noise, laughing softly as he watched you furiously wipe your fingers down on your thighs.

“do you have hand sanitizer, luke?”

the next time he was a little bolder, wrapping one hand around your throat and trailing the other one behind your head, smiling widely at your gasp as he undid the perfect bow. he watched your hair fall around your pouting face with glee. when he let go of your throat, it was to tie your wrists together in a similarly neat little bow above your head. he was going to tear you apart, but the least he could do was give you something orderly to focus on while you drooled and sobbed over his violent thrusts, choking on his cock a little bit more each time. he liked the way you looked like this, mascara running down your cheeks and doe eyes looking up at him with desire.

the third time he caught you after a workout, pulling you into the woods and pushing you over a tree stump. you began to complain about the scratchiness on your stomach, only stopping when a forceful yank to your ponytail caused you to wince. within seconds he had torn the fabric of your pink leggings, thrusting into you relentlessly as he watched the hole rip wider and wider. you whined loudly, annoyed at the mess but in a state of pure euphoria. luke palmed at every inch of you, slapping your cheeks with his rough hands and pushing your pink sports bra down your shoulders to bite at the skin of your breasts. you cried as you came, the force of your orgasm causing him to release inside you. he knew you would despise the sticky feeling of his cum coating the skin of your thighs, and he adored that.

the next morning, people were shocked when you walked into the mess hall with your hair down, one of luke’s camp shirts covering your pajama shorts. you wore slippers, a tired look in your eyes, and several massive hickeys on your neck. he was delighted when the first thing you did was walk over to him and grab him by his arm, dragging him to your empty cabin for a round two. or three or four, depending on how much you felt like being ruined that particular day. there was something so captivating about being so free, so unclean.

[inureflower]

Pjo last ep spoilers

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warning’s . . ! cheating , backshots , office sex .

sex therapist gojo! who was just supposed to be fixing you and your husband boring sex life, giving advice on how to make it more exciting so you can stop faking your orgasms every time you two had sex. sex with your husband doesn't work for you anymore, he didn't fulfill your sexual desires the way you needed him too.

"such a needy little slut.” had you bent over his cold desk skirt pulled over your ass. gojo slipping his hand between your thick thighs as the pad of his thumb rubbed small circles over your throbbing clit as he stuffing you full of his fat cock. you avoided anything that would ruin your marriage but here you were allowing another man other then your husband to pleasure you.

falling for the charms of your sex therapist. large, veiny hand lifted your leg up thursting his curved cock in and out of you, ass bounced back against his pelvis. thrusting deep into you one last time before filling you up, slowly pulling out to watch his thick cum spill out from you.

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pushing the drummer!luke castellano agenda tonight

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I need reader who's shy/easily embarrassed, and Sukuna who just pops up whenever to say the most unhinged out of pocket shit on the side of Yuji's face just to see her go bright red.

Sukuna who takes the opportunity to lick her face when Yuji tries to reach out and move some hair from her face. The gasp she let's out is choked, and Sukuna grins as Yuji is quick to pull away with a sound of disgust.

"That's not all I can do with my tongue. I'll show you one of these days, when the brat let's me out to play." It's a threat and a promise. Sukuna can't wait to take the drivers seat and devour her.

Sukuna who taunts the both of them for his own amusement, keeping her walking on eggshells whenever she's around Yuji

Who pops an eye open to watch as she bends over to pick something up, taking a moment to admire her ass before he opens his mouth. And when he finally does, "I cant see the swell of your cunt, bend some more for me." Yuji's quick to slap a hand over his cheek and ignore the sting, only for Sukuna to make his way to the back of his hand and cackle

Sukuna who isn't paying attention to what the brats are doing until he hears her moaning. Cracking an eye opened to see she's putting food in her mouth, eyes closed and a faint smile pulling at her lips.

"Do you always moan like that when you put things in your mouth? Or are you just showing off for me." She nearly chokes on the food, eyes going wide and cheeks burning red as she looks at him.

Sukuna who refuses to acknowledge the fact he enjoys her reactions for anything more than his own entertainment.

But who does start to notice the subtle change in Yuji's behavior towards her

Who makes it his new goal in life -to keep himself entertained of course, no other reason- to make the both of them so uncomfortable in each other's presence.

Because if he can't physically toy with his new (not favorite) human, he'll gladly do it from the passengers seat of his vessel and make everyone involved miserable.

@saiki-enthusiast here's the tag!! I hope you enjoy 😊 I have a fic that's like a follow up to this that I'm still working on, it's a little dark/ noncon though, if anyone was interested!

[inureflower]

— ✰DON JULIO | CONNIE S.

✧ synopsis: you get a lil too drunk at a party and decide to call your ex-boyfriend, connie. | bitches get two sips of liquor and call their ex. ✧ contents: fluff, smut and just a lil angst. reader is black with locs. n-word usage. reader isn't actually drunk, just tipsy. she's a lightweight, as stated in the story. minors dni! ✧ word count: 2.5k! proofread but may still have a mistake here or there, yall know how it goes. ✧ shanti's note: this idea came to me while i was on hiatus (listening to toxic by kehlani and drunk-dialing by summer walker) and i thought, why not surprise y'all with something new? i've never written anything this long before but i'm extremely proud of it and i hope you guys enjoy it too. it's my birthday so consider this a gift from me to you. 🩷

you were always a lightweight and your friends knew that, too. did that ever stop them from passing you shot after shot? absolutely not.

you were never much of a party girl, preferring to spend your friday nights with sum netflix and a glass of wine in hand; occasionally, your girls were able to drag you out the house. this time they pleaded with you, complaining about how they hadn’t seen or spoken to you in so long, that you went MIA. that’s when you realized you never told them that you and connie broke up.

it was a mutual separation; connie was never the best at communication and while you tried to work with him, arguments were inevitable and constant. eventually, you both agreed that you needed space. knowing all this didn’t make the split easier for you, though. you loved connie bad. he was your boyfriend but above else, he was your best friend. his absence in your life took a toll on you. had you depressed in the house, only leaving for work.

that’s why when your girls suggested going to this house party in the city, you didn’t turn it down. maybe if you got cute and loosened up a bit, you’d forget about your ex for a few hours. of course, that damn don julio did the opposite.

you were on your third shot of the liquid poison and you were feeling good, the bass from the loud speakers vibrating through your body. thank god you opted to wear contacts, your glasses would’ve fallen off from how you were dancing. your curly locs fell from the cute bun you styled earlier, dropping to your shoulders and you didn’t even care, not when you were enjoying yourself like this.

“so what happened with you and connie?” your best friend ashley prodded.

“a lot.” you replied apathetically, you really didn't want to talk about him right now. she furrowed her eyebrows, giving you a girl don’t play with me look.

“honestly, it was just too much. we were arguing all the time and you know how connie is, he don’t take shit serious. we decided that breaking up was for the best.”

ashley scoffed. “yeah, for now. i know how you get about that nigga. lie to yourself, don’t lie to me.”

“girl, fuck you.” you fanned her off. “i don’t give a fuck about that— wait, this is my song!”

girlfriend by ruger blared through the speakers, the flashing leds matching the beat. this was the first party you’d been to where everybody was on their feet, living in the moment — none of that sitting to the side, standoffish shit. losing track of time, you didn’t realize you were on your feet since you got there two hours ago and your feet were starting to ache. you stumbled back into your friend draya who caught you, pulling down your mini skirt in the process.

“c’mon girl, sit down for a lil bit. and no more liquor for you!” she said as she led you to the empty couch across the room.

once she made sure you were seated comfortably, she got an ice cold water from the cooler and placed it into your hands. “drink sum of this, ima be watchin’ you from right there, ‘kay?” you nodded as you watched draya skimper back to your friend group, taking a few sips of water before placing it on the side table.

you leaned onto the armrest. you knew the liquor was exasperating how you felt; the bright led lights were making you lightheaded and you could feel an impeding headache from the thumping bass. this was why you didn’t pop out much; it was all fun and games until you were overstimulated and ready to leave. two, maybe three hours was the limit of how much you could take before you’d usually call connie to pick you up. and he always knew what to do, calming you down in a way that no one else could.

but connie wasn’t your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. knew you shouldn’t call his phone and break no contact, knew what it would lead to if he answered. you considered all the outcomes and thought, fuck it. you’d deal with ashley’s mouth later. it didn’t take long to find his name, still unchanged from the break up, my man. you sighed, pressing on the facetime button.

he answered on the first ring and it made you smile. he never let your calls ring more than once. you could only see half of his face at this angle, his gold earrings glistening. the one eye you could see wasn’t open, signifying that he wasn’t fully awake.

“hello?” he yawned, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“i miss you, daddy.” you crooned and fluttered your long lashes, propping your arm on the headrest and leaning your head into your hand.

there was a pause before connie’s eye shot open, sleep forgotten as he sat up, running a hand down his face as he finally processed what you said. “(y/n)? you okay?” he leaned in closer to the camera, eyes squinted. “wait, where you at?”

“a party!” you giggled at his confusion. “the girls invited me out.”

“and you've been drinking.” you nodded and he rolled his eyes, resting the phone face up on his nightstand. “you know you can’t handle no liquor, mami.”

“so? i wanted to have a good time! you the reason I’m drinking!”

“me?” connie stood over the phone and dramatically held a hand to his bare chest, faux disbelief in his expression. “what i do?”

“because, i miss you.” your voice got so quiet, connie almost didn’t hear you over the loud music. but he did and little did you know, the feeling was more than mutual. “wanna see you, can you come get me?”

“i miss you too, hermosa… but you know we not—“

“i know,” you interrupted him, “but i can’t do this shit no more! i need you, so please come and get me.”

connie let out a deep sigh, studying your pretty face as he contemplated what you were asking. any other time he’d already be in his suv, on his way to you without a second thought. you weren’t together and weren’t supposed to be speaking; but how could he turn you down when you had that cute pout on your face? fuck it, he thought. you needed him so he was on the way.

“alright, mami. just send me your location.”

“i never stopped sharing it.” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “you have it.”

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it wasn’t long before you got that come outside text. you made your way through the crowd, told your friends that connie was outside and they already knew what was up, giving you hugs and ashley made you promise to text her when you made it in as you walked out.

connie was waiting for you at the door, looking handsome as always with his favorite fitted on his head. he only had on a white tee and sweats, some nike slides he’d usually wear in the house; not much about him changed since the break up two months ago. fatigue was written all over his face and you did feel bad, but you were so happy to see him.

“c’mere, with ya pretty ass.” he said with a smile, arms open wide.

you immediately ran into his arms, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders and his hands cupped your ass, plump lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “i missed you sooo much.” you said into his shirt, staining the fabric with your sticky lip gloss.

“missed you more, mama. ready to go home?” he mumbled, moving stray locs from your face and you nodded, relaxing into his touch.

connie held you close as he led you to the black audi-rs with the tinted windows, opening the back door. he laid you onto the leather seats gently, his face only inches from yours as he reached his arm into the trunk for a blanket to cover you with. your hands hesitantly snaked up to his face, his head turning at the warm touch.

“what’s wrong—“

“kiss me, connie.” your voice was low and seductive, it made all the blood in his body rush to his dick.

connie wasted no time, connecting your lips feverishly as he slid his tongue into your mouth. you moaned into the kiss, looping your arm across his neck. you sense the desperation in the way connie was kissing you, like he’d been waiting to this, waiting to touch and feel you again. his dick was already half-hard, straining the fabric of his sweatpants, pressed on your clothed core. you rolled your hips on it and connie let out a breathy moan against your lips, his firm hands halting your movements.

“connie, i need you.” you whined, trying your best to wriggle out of his grasp.

“i know, pretty. i got you, let me handle it.” he assured, trailing his hands to your crop top, lifting the cotton fabric until your perky breasts revealed themselves. he groaned to himself, you never did like wearing bras.

connie latched his mouth onto one of your pert brown nipples and sucked, rolling his tongue eagerly as you held onto his head, panting lightly. his other hand continued down until it reached your miniskirt, pushing it up to your hips and finally touching where you needed him most, that pretty pussy. you gasped when his fingers prodded at your clothed cunt, back curving into a delicious arch. you were always so sensitive, even when he was barely touching you. connie released your nipple with a loud pop! and pushed your panties to the side, collecting all the wetness at your entrance on his fingertips, spreading it along your folds and clit, rubbing quick circles into the sensitive bud.

“already so wet f’me, this what you been waiting for, hmm?” he chuckled when you whined into his neck, your hips bucking to match his pace. “y-yes baby, need it so bad.” you really weren’t in the mood for teasing and thankfully, he didn’t make you beg.

his middle and ring fingers slid into your pussy with ease. “fuck mami.” connie cursed, your fat pussy was squeezing his fingers so tight. they curled into that spongy spot that had you gasping for air. you gripped his shoulder, rolling your hips to meet his hand, his palm rubbing against your puffy clit. the squelching sounds of your wet pussy and your breathy moans were driving him crazy. more than anything, connie wanted to fill you up, have you creaming on his dick. but this was all about you, he’d take care of himself later.

“oh my godd.” your eyes rolled back into your head, mouth slack.

“pussy so pretty.” connie hummed, his eyes focused on the creamy, sticky slick coating his fingers and knuckles. “you gonna cum for papi, hmm? gonna make a mess f’me?”

“y-yes, ahh, m’close baby don’t stop-“ that was all connie needed to hear.

you almost screamed when connie sped up his movements, your thighs trembling as you felt your orgasm approaching. he leaned down, his lips latching onto your neck, sucking so hard you know you’d have bruises the next morning. his thumb came up to rub your clit and it was over. your entire body shook as you came, clear sticky liquid shooting out and wetting connie’s hand and sweatpants.

you were breathless, getting all hot again as you locked eyes with connie as he licked all your sweet cum off his fingers, a smirk on his lips. “you always taste so good, mami.”

as much as you wanted to respond, the words couldn’t come out. just his fingers were enough to have you in complete bliss, and all you wanted to do now was close your eyes. “i know you tired, baby. sleep.” connie leaned closer, kissing you one last time before covering you with the fuzzy blanket, your eyes fluttering closed.

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connie still had all your things stored in one of his spacious closets in his penthouse. for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw anything away — maybe because of the significance the items held or maybe because he knew that you’d come back to him, just like you were now; the circumstances were different from what he imagined, though.

he carried you all the way from the car into his apartment because you were knocked the fuck out, from the orgasm and possibly from the alcohol lingering in your system. upon opening the doors, he was glad he called for maid services earlier; the piles of takeout he’d left on the living room table were gone, the wood floors spotless and shiny. you would beat his ass if you saw what the place looked like while you were gone.

settling you down onto his massive king bed, he already knew what he needed to do. he made his way into the closet, rummaging through one of the bags until he found your favorite makeup wipes, only using a few before he was sure the makeup was all off. he was being as gentle as possible — he didn’t want to wake you up.

connie took off your clothes without moving your body much, tossing them on the floor and grabbing a random shirt from his drawer to put on you. he couldn’t help but laugh, it fit you like a damn dress. he was about to cuddle up with you before he stopped, he knew he forgot something. your bonnet. you would kill him if he let you sleep without it, fucking up your fresh retwist. connie made sure to tie a firm bow to secure it and finally laid next to you, basking in the warmth your body provided.

he’d been waiting for this moment for months; to hold you again and let his fingertips dance along the dips and curves of your beautiful body, caressing your soft flesh like it was fragile. connie remembered every mole and freckle on your skin, as he should; nobody’s seen you like him, the men before him hadn’t tried to. and connie took pride in that, in being the first man to show you what love should feel like. but of course, he had to fuck everything up.

“love you so much, mi amor…” he whispered against your skin, littering soft pecks along your jaw. “more than you’d ever know.”

being away from you for such an extended period of time had given him a new perspective; he didn’t cherish you while he had you. his nonchalance is what fueled all those arguments and his stubbornness kept him from apologizing. that’s why in those two months, all he was doing was thinking about you. everytime he attempted to contact you, he convinced himself that maybe he’d done enough and letting you move on was the best option. but now he had you here in his arms and connie was ready to make shit right, because what would his life be without you in it?

he’d address everything in the morning and pray you felt the same, that it wasn’t just the liquor talking. there was one last thing he had to do before he finally went to sleep — text your nosy ass best friend ashley and let her know you were safe, he always ended up texting your friends for you after your lil girls nights.

(bonus: he just loves to get on ashley’s nerves 😂)

the hoe house: @rintcrous @honeybleed @rissouu @90ekz @prettypixigrl @loccka6 @black-yn @dxddykenn @viisgrave @hyunip @zuriayan @sheluvzeren @bey0nseh @tishlvr @chile-im-embarrassed @xocherishxo @sugxrbxbyqueen @vipprincessblog @kaegetsmewetter @charbunxxi

join the house here. ♡

@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.

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I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.

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yall's mistake is assuming emerald fennell is attempting to make some political commentary with her movies, some stories are just a weird little guy obsessively in love with his best homie

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They can do both and I find that really hot.

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You can tell a millennial is the costume designer because why are they business casual in the club? (Marie's Auntie boots are a dead giveaway.)

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hello yall 

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Text Posts: Matt Is Tiredᵀᴹ edition