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#but honestly it's like they are making it hard on purpose i had hoped i was done with all of this anxiety and worry about college
love-songs-for-emma · 2 years
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i see early seasons sam winchester & im like "sammy🥺" i see later seasons sam winchester & im like "j*red padaIecki🤬"
#spn#its just.#its like i knew sammy Personally. & then he grew up into Jared Padalecki. i see older sam's face & maybe its bc i disappeared from#the fandom for 5 years but i feel like its also bc j*red just kept getting Worse that by the end it hurt sam's face for me#idk this is probably a very specific to me feeling#but also this is for the hashtag early season sammy identifiers. i loved him sm#i dont even remember what happened. honestly i think it was the fact that the show made dean more of a character#& less of a comic relief & now im just like Ok i Am Him. but also thats bc i need Help#i say that like i havent been thru enough therapy already#also. on s1 sammy. ive always always wanted to have telekinesis & ive had dreams abt it since i was a child.... rmbr when he moved that#cabinet with his brain in s1 to save that parent(mom?) from their son (who was also one of#azazel's ''chosen ones''? yeah uh. whatever happened to that. am i forgetting smth or did they just Drop sam having powers#''naturally'' (post azazel incident at birth & pre-drinking demon blood)?#anywayy#no hard h8 to mr padalecki. i dont want to be cruicified. this website is v scurry sometimes#for all intents & purposes this is a JOKE. a silly lil meme. a silly lil post on my silly lil blog that i hope makes a silly someone like#me laugh#gn#or gm rather. its almost 5am & i did just wake up. but ill prob snooze more. who knows.#real fanfic hours? we'll have to see.#supernatural#sw#sam winchester#sammy#sammy winchester#s1 sammy#spn s1
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itadodori · 1 month
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#note: obsessive nanami with a breeding kink?? i think tf yes!
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obsessed!nanami who necessarily doesn’t like to show how head over heels for you he is. he’s the type that likes to cover it up, keep it a secret just in case it creeps you out. however, he couldn’t very well hide his addiction to you when he was inches deep in you, thinking about changing both of your lives for the better.
he’s been begging to try for a baby for months now, and he was getting really fed up with your answers. you would always say yes but when it finally came down to it you’d make him pull out. what type of shit was that?
“so what d’ya say baby? gonna let me fill this pretty lil pussy up? give ya’ all my babies?” his hands flew to your hair, pulling it so hard that your head was forced back. you couldn’t even give him a solid answer with the state you were in.
not with the way his hips were snapping back and forth to meet yours, or the way his lips roughly sucked on your neck— leaving marks which were very well intended.
your shaky hands involuntary found their way to his stomach, trying to push the man out of you so you could catch some type of break.
“k..k..kento please! t’s too m..much i-“ your words were quickly cut off by him smacking your hand. you should’ve knew better honestly, he never liked when you tried to push him away, but that still didn’t stop you.
this time, you used your foot to try and push him away—but again.. you should’ve known better. as soon as he saw your leg move he was quick to slap your thigh, causing you to hiss and put it right back where he had them pinned.
“you didn’t answer my question princess.. can i?” now his thrusts were even faster than before, and he made sure to give your clit some extra attention as well, slowly teasing it by rubbing small circles around the throbbing bud.
now that was enough to drive you insane, nanami knew what he was doing, he always did. he was purposely trying to overstimulate you because he knew how easy you give into him when you’re in that state.
with curling toes, and a wide mouth you tried to escape from his grasp— well, more like you quite literally tried to run away from him.
you knew exactly what he was planning and you weren’t giving in that easily, that’s what you hoped at least.
his face fell into a frown when he realized your weak attempted to escape him, you did this every time the two of you had sex.. you could never last for longer than thirty minutes, and usually he would let you off the hook.. but this time, he had other plans.
when nanami finally got fed up of you trying to run, he became more serious. his touch was no longer passionate and steady, it was sloppy and rough.
the hand he was using to hold your legs up soon became the hand he used to grip your neck. it caught you off guard at first since he’d never done it before, but you soon became used to the feeling, and it only added to your pleasure.
“stop tryin’ to run from me. i told you about this before, keep it up and you just might get fucked up.” it was a small warning. the way his eyes locked with yours, and held that familiar gaze of seriousness, you knew he wasn’t fucking around.
you didn’t miss the way your pussy clenched tighter around him at his words, or the way you suddenly got the feeling to let him do whatever with you.
this time was different than all the other times you two had sex.. usually he wouldn’t be so— aggressive. not that you were complaining though.
you knew he was finally getting serious when he let go of the hold he had on your legs, what was he planning next? he pulled out of you without a word, and your face studied his for some type of answer.
confusion quickly took over your body, but you weren’t left confused for long.. nanami rocked his hips backwards before slamming back into you without any warning, continuing his previous goal.
the scream you let out was loud, all your neighbors most likely heard it too, probably wondering what the hell was going on.
nanami’s hands gripped on your waist, keeping you still since he knew you loved to fucking move, or better yet run. “what do you have to say to me, darling?”
“’m sorry baby— fuck! ‘m so sorry.” you had no choice but to stay still this time, you knew he wasn’t letting you get away again. even if you never really got away in the first place— he’d make sure you never thought about running from him (or his dick) again.
by this time nanami was already too far gone to listen to you. the way your pussy was squeezing around him like this, and sucking him in.. he couldn’t listen to you. not when he had a job to do.
the more your walls sucked him in, the more he felt his rationality slipping away. he couldn’t hold out much longer.. you knew he wanted kids from the beginning right? plus, it’s not like you didn’t want this. you told him yes many times before, so why not just get it over with already?
“pussy’s suckin’ me in so fuckin’ good princess, gonna fill you up real good. m..make your tummy all nice n’ round with my babies. fuck.. you’re gonna look so beautiful. tits all swollen and shit,”
his hand involuntarily came down to your stomach— carefully rubbing it as if there was a baby in there already.
you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. just as you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to carry this man’s children.
feeling him rub on your stomach while mumbling such vulgar words.. it was enough to throw you over the edge.
“oh fuck ken! ‘m cumming baby, please ‘m gonna-” he pushed down on your lower stomach, knowing that’d be more than enough to get you where he wanted you.
without warning, liquid starting pouring out of you and it was only then that you realized it wasn’t just cum.. you had squirted. and because of that, nanami wasn’t too far behind you.
“yes mama, milk this shit. let me give it all to you.. this pretty lil pussy takin’ me so well- shit!” as you were still riding out your orgasm, he was right behind you, finally filling you up with the warm cum he’d been storing so long.. just for you.
“mm yes ken. wanna have all your babies, my love. give it to me please!” little did you know, he had a lot to give, poor guy had been waiting for this moment for years now. and it was finally here.
the two of you couldn’t keep quiet even when you both already finished cumming. nanami didn’t want to pull out, he wanted to stay buried inside of you forever. the feeling of your pussy gripping him was something he’d never get tired of.
sadly, he eventually did have to pull out. you kept fussing about wanting to go to sleep, and how you didn’t want to go to sleep with him inside of you because of what he did last time.
“fine, but before you go to sleep let me just..” he got on his knees, holding your legs up just like before but this time he had a clear view of your pussy. no, his pussy.
she looked so worn out, and even now she was still clenching around nothing— clearly missing the feeling of his dick. however, what peaked his interest most was his cum spilling out of you.
well we surely couldn’t have that, could we? what was the point of all that hard work if it was all just going to go to waste..
without a second thought he ran his fingers down your folds, lapping up all the liquids that were already spilling out, earning a low moan from you.
“w..what are you doing?”
he ignored your question— focusing on collecting all the spilled out cum purely with his bare hands. once he felt he’d done enough, he wasted no time plunging his fingers into you, pushing back all of the cum that tried escaping.
“go to sleep. im going to stay like this for a while, i don’t want a single drop wasted.”
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kingofbodyrolls · 1 month
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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7starlite7 · 3 months
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breeding? i am down BAD for that shit
☆ GOJO AND GETO , BREEDING ☆
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How they stuff your lil cunt full of them , and their small reasons why.
☆ Gojo Satoru 
Honestly, he just got off to the thought of it. A lil weakling like you being filled with his seed. If there was a name for a superiority kink , Gojo would have it. “Lucky you” he huffed out against your ear. Cock hitting so deep inside you with the sole purpose of getting you pregnant, filling you up. You felt so full you couldn’t even explain it, legs trembling as he blew another load inside you. “ a lil nobody like you gets to carry my heir” he’d laugh. You were a nobody, you were so fucking lucky to have his cock splitting you open. The amount of cum between you makes it hard for him to even pull himself out. Cum trying to escape your fluttering hole just to be fucked back into you. “ S-Satoru , it doesn’t take this much to get me pregnant!” You gasped out , feeling the buzz of overstimulation over take you as you added to the overflowing amount of white flooding from your cunt. “ yeah baby … I’m well aware” he smiled , still fucking into you with hunger. 
☆ Geto Suguru 
See he would have killed you. You were simply a monkey after all. A useless life form… but the way your cunt sucked him in so nicely he just couldn't let go. Hips attacking your ass violently as you cried out. “ F-fuck , your s-s big” you whimpered, arms reaching out for something that wasn’t there from the way he was kissing your cervix. “ Hush , just take me “ he’d scoff at you , secretly hoping you’d never be quiet , your small sounds being music to his ears. Fuck you had to be the best he’d ever had the way he was compelled to come inside you. Fill you up with his seed. And he did just that , pushing all his weight down on you as you let out a yelp. “ fuck fuck fuck , gonna fill you up mkay”  he grunted out. For him to be a stranger , you surprisingly had no complaints. “ yes please~” you moaned out, somehow feeling him deeper than before even though that wouldn’t be possible. You felt the veins of his dick running along your gummy walls that were soon painted white. Shit maybe he was going to keep you around, you weren’t so bad. 
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nxuvillette · 4 months
Text
“THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING”
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LOSING YOUR VIRGINITY W/ TR MEN
synopsis: your first time is supposed to be special and with the right person. luckily, you have an amazing boyfriend who is willing to make that dream come true.
❥- including : manjiro (mikey) sano, ken (draken) ryuguji, baji keisuke, hanma shuji
❥- note : first tr post 👍🏻 i’m kinda nervous because these were a little longer than my last post but i hope y’all enjoy <3. reblogs are appreciated!!
content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, virgin!reader, established relationship, virginity loss, praising, oral sex [f!receiving] (mikey , baji), fingering (draken , baji , hanma), finger sucking (baji), slight breeding kink (hanma), creampie (draken , hanma) use of pet names (baby , princess , babydoll , doll) multiple orgasms.
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♡ MANJIRO (MIKEY) SANO
you and your boyfriend mikey had been together for a little while. he was nothing but kind to you, and you honestly trusted him more than anybody else that you knew. he was everything.
intimacy had never really crossed his mind before. sure, he knew sex was important, but it wasn’t something he necessarily saw as a necessity in your relationship. not to mention, you were a virgin. you knew things about sex and such, but you never acted upon those desires you had inside your head. mikey was also patient. he never really saw sex as something that had to be rushed. 
eventually, you reached that point after your one year anniversary that you were ready to lose it to him.
mikey honestly couldn’t believe that he did so little to you, yet you were a dripping mess when he took your panties off. he believed if you weren’t a virgin he wouldn’t even need to do foreplay to make you feel good, but he wanted to make sure you were prepped and you got to experience a great first time with him. 
his favorite part was watching you squirm and tremble as his tongue dove into your sopping pussy. you hadn’t experienced such a feeling before and it was so thrilling. his tongue dragged along your slit and you almost came from him just eating you out. mikey couldn’t get enough of how delicious you tasted. he was in disbelief that someone as good as you was hiding like this for so long. it took everything in him to not keep eating you out. 
when mikey finally entered you, you were both in complete heaven. 
mikey was fairly long and his size made you gasp. he was reaching spots that made your mind feel dizzy. with all of the prep he did it also didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would have. he couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. your pussy was hugging his cock so nicely he thought he’d never be able to actually leave it. it was so warm and perfect. 
once you gave him the go ahead to start moving, he made you feel like you were on some type of drug. the feelings you were having were so euphoric. you craved more. you knew he was being gentle on purpose, but you were beyond wanting that soft and delicate sex. 
“m-more, mikey! i need more.. please..” you begged, gripping onto his forearms to show how desperate you were for more of him.
hearing those words snapped something inside mikey, and he ended up quickening his thrusts into you. the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot, making you see white stars in your vision and your body to completely ignite. “fuck.. don’t you worry, baby, i’ll give you all you’ll ever need..” he looked into your eyes, making you feel somewhat flustered at his words. 
you were so close to reaching your high. you were practically clawing at mikey’s back and letting out the most lewd noises every time he rutted into you. this was the first time you had ever felt something so intense in your life. not even your own hand could make you cum that hard. it was like that white hot pleasure in your gut was finally unleashed and it was making you go crazy. mikey had also cum, too. he was in utter shock at how much he released onto your stomach, but he was more than satisfied with the results. 
he pecked your lips, a smile writing itself on his features. “you were so great.. i’m so proud of you.”
♡ KEN (DRAKEN) RYUGUJI
dating toman’s number two was definitely one of the best decisions you had made in your entire life. draken was a better man than your own father and he did everything right in your relationship. he was practically someone who had zero flaws.
there were a few times you and draken had gotten close to actually having sex. sometimes you’d come over to his place and end up with his hands down your pants, but it never escalated to you both carrying out such an act with one another. draken was well aware that you were a virgin and he didn’t really have an issue with that. he wanted to be the one to make you feel good and he didn’t care how much time it took. unlike some men, he had genuine patience.
you and draken had been in his room that night it happened. you were both watching a movie when his hands began to wander around your body, squeezing and massaging your skin to make you feel aroused. it didn’t take long for you to end up on top of your boyfriend with your crotch pressing right up against his aching bulge. 
when you paused in your actions, you whispered to draken that you were ready to finally take that step with him. he was honestly a little surprised to hear such a thing, but he wasted no time pressing your body onto the mattress and going down on you. he almost came on the spot when he came face to face with your weeping pussy. he knew with his size that you’d need the prep, so he took his time with you. 
draken used two of his thick fingers to push into your cunt. he was astonished at how tightly your walls surrounded his digits. he loved hearing you call out his name each time he pumped himself into you. you were such an angel. 
once he had made you cum twice, he knew you were ready. 
you were honestly kind of nervous. draken was the biggest you had ever seen. when he pushed his cock inside you, there was this sharp inhale that escaped your lips. he was so thick. the girth was stretching you out to almost your limit and you practically held onto him for dear life as he bottomed out into you. you didn’t think he’d be able to make it fit, but he did. he could tell you had some discomfort, so he peppered a few kisses onto your face and whispered sweet nothings to ease you. all he wanted was for you to be comfortable. 
you gave him the nod of approval to start moving and you honestly thought he was going to split you in half. his cock was so big. you felt that vein dragging along your walls as he thrusted and it sent you into pure bliss. you could hardly contain the cries of pleasure that spilled from your throat. “d-draken! shit.. ‘feels so good!” you looked at him with hazy eyes while he fucked you so effortlessly.
your voice was like music to his ears. draken’s dick twitched when he heard how his name slipped off your lips. “yeah? you like that, princess? you’re so fuckin’ tight.. i can’t get enough of this pussy..” he grunted. 
that knot inside your belly has finally snapped when those words processed through your foggy brain. draken groaned hard when your cunt clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. he couldn’t hide his smirk when he realized he had filled you up with his cum. you seemed to enjoy it too, judging by the moan you let out when you felt him covering your walls with white. 
he leaned towards your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. it sent shivers down your spine at the action. “round two..?” he asked, seductively.
♡ BAJI KEISUKE
sexual intimacy was never something that was a necessity in your relationship with baji. the two of you often focused on more romantic things than the physical aspects of a relationship, but that didn’t mean that you two never craved those inappropriate desires. 
baji knew from day one that you were a virgin. he accidentally asked that “are you a virgin?” question when you both went on a date and almost slapped himself when he realized he came from his mouth. you thought it was kind of funny and you ended up revealing to him that you were a virgin. he didn’t mind at all, and he assured you that he’d never put you in a position where you felt forced to have sex with him. he said sex came naturally and when you were ready to do it with another person.
you and baji went on a nice ride on his bike that night. there was a gorgeous sunset that you both watched and he took you home, expecting you to go into your apartment and not look back. however, he was quite shocked when you tugged his arm to come with you. this hadn’t happened before, so it took him off guard. nonetheless, he followed you up to your apartment and went inside with you. 
after you both shrugged off your jackets, you both ended up in your bedroom and baji was the one on top of you. the two of you hadn’t expected it to become so heated that quickly, but you were too far lost in your bliss to even think about stopping. he paused when he realized you were tugging at his belt buckle. he questioned if you wanted to do it and you nodded eagerly. you told him you were sure that you wanted to proceed and he wasted no time diving into you.
baji thought your body was so gorgeous. he couldn’t stop kissing at your skin and sucking to leave marks on it. when he reached your cunt, his mouth practically watered at the sight of it. it was so puffy and cute that he couldn’t help but have a taste. his tongue swiped over your sensitive bead, causing your thighs to trap his head. he was so talented with his tongue and his fingers that you swore you could cum from just him eating you out. 
once his chin and lips were completely covered in your arousal, he decided to finally pull out his cock that was aching so painfully. 
as soon as baji entered you, your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. the pleasure already felt so amazing that you were already feeling needy for your boyfriend. baji had a pretty impressive size, so taking it was a bit painful at first. he was, however, very good at talking you through that sting. he kissed your lips and whispered how beautiful you were, and he praised you for taking him so well despite the stretch of his cock. 
once he started moving, you wrapped your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you. baji thought your pussy hugged him perfectly like you were made for him to make love with. you were so gorgeous. he could hardly keep his eyes off of you. “f-fuck me, baby, you’re so beautiful.. bein’ such a good girl for me..” he pressed his thumb against your pretty lips, in which you sucked on it obediently.
you whined as baji adjusted his angle. his cock was now repeatedly hitting your g-spot which sent waves of pleasure to crash over your body. he was taking such care of your body that you didn’t think you’d ever need to fuck anyone else but him. “baji! oh, god, baji!” your nails dug crescents into his skin as he fucked you.
you threw your head back as your orgasm snapped through you. your pussy creamed around baji, earning several grunts from him. he pulled out the moment he felt his high hurdling towards him. sticky white cum covered your stomach, making a mess on your skin. 
baji kissed your cheek, a smile appearing on his face. “you were perfect.. let’s wash up and cuddle after, yeah?” he nodded, in which you agreed.
♡ HANMA SHUJI
dating someone like hanma shuji meant you had to deal with his sarcasm and also his flirty nature at the same time. however, he treated you like a princess regardless of those random snarky moments he had. he did anything for you and you couldn’t be happier with any other man. 
hanma almost didn’t believe you when you told him you were a virgin. it wasn’t like he thought you were lying for some other reason, but most people your age weren’t virgins. he didn’t see it as a problem, though. hanma thought it would be cute to someday take your virginity. he craved that physical intimacy more than you anticipated, but he was patient with you when it came to the matter. he would wait as long as you wanted, even if there was a side of him that desired to fuck your brains out on a daily basis.
he took you out earlier in the day for some shopping. you were used to being spoiled by him at times, so it wasn’t unusual. he knew the routine fairly well but he was kind of surprised when you both got home and you were being more touchy with him than usual. you brushed yourself over his crotch a few times and kissed him a little longer than normal. he wondered what you wanted, because he couldn’t handle teasing whatsoever.
he was taken back when you told him you wanted to have sex with him. he thought it was a joke, but he knew you were serious when you gave him that look. he didn’t waste another second dragging you into the bedroom and pouncing on you like he was a wild animal going for his prey. 
hanma took care of you. he made sure every inch of your body was kissed by his lips. he wanted you to know how stunning you were while you were naked. he swore god had favorites in that moment. it took everything inside of him to not completely ravage your cunt. when he slipped his fingers into you, he was shocked at how easy it was. you were practically soaking wet. his fingers were also quite lengthy. he curled and twisted his digits to find that button inside of you that would make you crumble in front of him.
you were shocked at how quick hanma had made you cum. before you knew it, he was hovering above you with his cock tip teasing your slit. you couldn’t wait any longer and practically begged him to enter you. he let out that usual chuckle and then pushed his cock into you, making your head fall backwards from how great it felt.
he made you feel like you were on the moon with how great he filled you. hanma could hardly believe you were taking him that well. you felt so full with him fully bottomed out in you. it took a little while for you to completely adjust to the size, but once that pain faded into pleasure, you had become a mess underneath your lover. he made your mind become cluttered and you couldn’t even think straight with how great the pleasure was.
“hanma.. oh, fuck! yes!” your fingers gripped the sheets underneath your body. 
he smirked at your voice crying out for him. he could hardly hold back against you. he quickened his speed a little, but made sure to not overwhelm you completely. you were delicate to him and he only wanted you to feel safe with him. “god, babydoll, it’s like you were made for me..” he used the hand with sin to toy with your puffy clit. “‘gonna make sure you cum all over my cock..”
you couldn’t hold back anymore and completely let go on him. your pussy squeezed his cock tightly and covered it in slick arousal. hanma pushed a load into your womb, grunting as he reached his high. it was so intense he thought he might have cum twice from you. 
he took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and pressing a few kisses onto your neck. “i’m so proud of you, doll.. you did so well..” he whispered, lovingly.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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cozage · 7 months
Note
Idk of your taking requests at the moment... but I had this in my head for God knows how long but how would the one piece men (law, zoro, and shanks mostly) react to cute aggression? Like you just randomly bite them or something or would they have cute aggression against you like they just randomly bite you instead
- hope I'm not asking for alot and no need to actually do this one I know you probably have 100 other requests
Characters: gn reader x Law, Zoro, Shanks Total word count: 475
Love Bites
Law
Law used to get annoyed with these random acts of gentle aggression. 
Physical touch is something he doesn’t do well with, so he found it more shocking than anything. 
Human affection also doesn’t make much sense to him, and most things you do confuse him honestly (that’s part of what intrigued him most at the beginning of your relationship). He tries to understand, but he doesn’t.
At first, those silly things were met with harsh glares and “What are you doing?” or “Please, Y/N. I’m in the middle of something. I don’t have time for games.”
But he got used to it, eventually not commenting on it at all. Just letting you do your thing. 
He found himself anticipating these small acts of loving aggression at some point, though he’s not sure when that switch happened. 
Now, if you time it right, you’ll get a soft hum or an amused chuckle out of him.
Zoro
Zoro is confused by this. He does not understand the purpose of this activity.
“What are you doing?!” he demands, jerking away from you. “I’m not some hunk of meat, regardless of what you and Luffy think!”
That makes you laugh. “I dunno, it’s just fun to do!”
He scowls at that. “Zoro” and “fun” have a hard time going together sometimes. 
Every time you do it, you can feel his stiffen beneath you, but he stops jerking away from it. Instead, he just laughs. “You’re a strange one,” he’ll say softly, often pairing it with a kiss.
One day he randomly bites you, just a quick little nibble that makes you jump.
“See!?!” he yelled. “It’s weird!”
Shanks
The moment you do it to him, he laughs a big hearty laugh. “If you want attention, dear, just say so.”
And that begins the ongoing love aggression war. Sometimes he knocks his head against yours as you lean against him, or he’ll take your hand and act like he’s going to kiss it, only to gently bite down on your fingers and cause you to shriek with laughter. 
He’ll go in for a kiss, and then blow a raspberry an inch away from your face. He's always finding new ammunition to use
“You started this!” he’ll always say, laughing along with you. 
You don’t give up that easily, of course. You’ll squeeze and pull at his cheeks, or pinch his arm and giggle as he jumps at the surprise touch. 
There is never a bad moment for you all to play these pranks on each other. In fact, the more serious the moment, the harder you guys laugh when one of you pulls it off. You’re both good sports about it, and the game is always something fun for you all to do in times of boredom.
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greg-montgomery · 1 year
Note
Please just the team telling r about HOW MUCH OF A SOFT SPOT AARON HAS FOR THEM like god he’s literally such a grouch to Morgan and prentiss but he kisses the ground you walk on and they’re like BESTIE GET A GRIP HES WRAPPED AROJND YOUR FINGER bc reader is convinced he doesn’t share their feelings and he’s just being polite </3
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Guys, please stop. You’re giving me false hope,” you sighed, dropping your hands on your lap. “I know you’re only trying to make me feel better, but honestly this is making me feel worse.”
“False hope? Sweetheart, the man is in love with you,” Derek said.
“No, he’s not.” You pouted.
You regretted ever telling your friends about your crush on Hotch. What you expected was them making fun of you for it. What you got were daily lectures on how your boss had the hots for you.
“He makes you coffee every single morning,” Emily pointed out.
“He’s just being polite!” you argued.
“We arrive here at the same time every day and he has never made one for me.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” you said. “Maybe he thinks you won’t like it the way he makes it. But he knows I do, so that’s why he only does it for me.”
“Okay…” Derek spoke again. His eyebrow was raised, showing he had a very good point to add. “What about when you got hurt last week? It was only a scratch on your cheek but Hotch was ready to drive you to a hospital.”
“Now you’re exaggerating!”
“I saw him cupping your cheeks, it’s true!” Emily exclaimed.
“I also saw that,” Spencer, who had just been observing the conversation, added.
“You too, Spence?”
“Sorry.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “I’m only pointing out what I saw.”
You crossed your arms against your chest. There was no way you’d let them get to you. If you let your heart believe that Aaron had feelings for you then it would break even harder. “He’s like this with all of us.”
Emily moved close to you and took your hand in hers. “No, he’s not,” she said with a smile. “How can you not see it? He looks at you like you’re his sun and stars.”
“We could have an experiment,” Spencer suggested.
“What kind of experiment?”
“Emily got yelled at yesterday for making a mistake during paperwork,” he explained. “I can see you’re preparing a similar report today so you could make on purpose the same mistake as her. Let’s see if he reacts the same way when he sees it. If he yells at you too then that means he treats you the same way he treats all of us. If he doesn’t…then you’re his soft spot.”
“Fine,” you agreed. “Only so you can all finally stop torturing me with this.”
A few hours later, your report was on Hotch’s desk.
“Y/N?”
You heard your name in that warm voice of his and lifted your head to look at him. He was standing at his office door with a smile, certainly not looking like a man about to start yelling.
“Can you please come to my office for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Walking up the stairs to his office, you could feel the stares of your colleagues. Time to prove them wrong, you thought. Even though, you were secretly praying for the opposite.
“What do you need me for?” you acted naive.
“I was just looking at your report,” he said, sitting down on his chair. “And-”
“Oh no, did I make a mistake?”
“No, it’s nothing important!” he rushed to reassure you. “It’s just some little thing. I only wanted to show you so you know the correct way to do it from now on.”
There was a sweet smile on his face. His voice was soft and not at all angry.
“Come on, let me show you.”
It didn’t feel scary to go close to him. So you did.
It was a bit hard to pay attention to him explaining your mistake, since you were staring at his fingers brushing the paper in front of you. It didn’t matter anyway, your mistake wasn’t an accident at all.
“Okay?” he asked when he was done.
“Okay. I’m really sorry, Hotch,” you said, giving him your best puppy eyes. If you were gonna do this experiment, you were gonna do it right. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“Why don’t you come to my office next time you prepare a report like this one? We can do it together, hm?”
“But you’re so busy, I don’t wanna slow you down,” you argued, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized that Aaron wasn’t angry at all with you.
“Nonsense. We’re doing it together next time.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thank you, Hotch.”
Just before you arrived at the door, you heard him calling your name. “Oh and Y/N?”
“Yeah?” you responded, looking back at him.
“The team is right.”
“Right on what?”
He smirked and dropped his gaze back to his papers. “You know what.”
You turned around to exit his office with a huge grin on your face. Sometimes it feels better when you lose.
4K notes · View notes
inkdrinkerworld · 6 months
Text
Talk Too Much
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader
Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it
Wc: 2.2k
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You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.
That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.
It’s not on purpose.
It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.
You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.
His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.
He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.
You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.
He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.
Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.
It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.
What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.
It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.
You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.
Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.
The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.
He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.
It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.
“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”
It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.
You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.
You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.
Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.
You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.
“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”
Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,
“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”
James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.
You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.
It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.
“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.
Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.
Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”
You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.
It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.
You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.
You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.
His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.
‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”
There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.
“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.
“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”
Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.
You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”
Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.
“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.
“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.
“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.
You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.
Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.
“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.
“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.
“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”
Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.
“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”
The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.
“I make you nervous?”
Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.
“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.
“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.
Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.
Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.
-
“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.
Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.
What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.
There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.
It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.
Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.
You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.
Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”
He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.”
You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”
Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”
You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.
Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.
That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.
“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”
Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.
“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.
“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”
“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.
His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.
You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.
No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.
“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”
You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”
2K notes · View notes
landooscurls · 5 months
Text
hotter than hell; lando norris
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word count: 4k
warnings: long read, general smut, unprotected sex ( !!!! you should not do that !!! wrap it up !!!) dirty talk, bad grammar and bad English ( I'm not an English speaker soz) mention of handsome Lando Norris
summary: literally no plot, Lando comes back to the hotel after quali and wants to celebrate his p2 with his girlfriend
FEEDBACK IS HIGLY APPRECIATED ;)
“Babe I’m so sorry I couldn’t postpone the work call”  You hissed at the phone, finally jumping on the giant king-size bed of your imperial suite, after a long afternoon of work conferences and video calls. 
You've been in smart working all day and you hated when it prevented you from supporting your boyfriend on the track. You were in the amazing Austin for the Austin Grand Prix, with the hot sun of Texas shining outside and you had to be confined in a hotel room answering business calls and talking to clients.  You felt guilty and a little frustrated. It was important for you to show him you supported him and be there with him. You hoped he could see it in your heart and understand why you couldn't postpone the call.
You couldn’t complain tho, that was one of the perks of the job: you could have done it easy everywhere, Austin, Tokio, Madagascar…It made it possible for you to follow your F1 boyfriend around the globe anytime you wanted. And that was the best thing you could’ve asked for. Distance relationship was already hard enough, so you were pretty happy you could be by his side in this wonderful journey he was going through. 
“Hun, no problem… I already told ya, it was just quali day, the race is tomorrow” You smiled through the phone at his reassurance. You nodded by yourself knowing that there was no reason for you to miss the race and honestly, you wouldn’t dare. It was so exciting and thrilling – but at the same time, super anxiety-inducing – that you wouldn’t have been able to resist without watching it. 
“Are you on your way back?” you asked, sitting on the bed with your laptop and your client report waiting to be finished. 
“You don’t even ask how it went” he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite your tongue
“‘M sorry, you’re right …Just can’t wait to see you” you admitted. “How did it go?” 
“I'm on your way, princess… gimme 10 minutes okay? I’ll tell you all about it”  
You were well on your way through your client report when Lando appeared through the door with headphones hanging from his neck and a team merchandise polo on. In all his beauty, with what you liked to call “the post-race glistening”. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as he entered the room with his usual grin, making you let out a small laugh as he gave you a wink and a wink back. You couldn't wait to hear what he had to say. 
"Hey, how’s your favourite businesswoman?" he came in smiling and you immediately felt his gaze burn all over your body, looking a bit surprised. 
Truth be told, you were only wearing one of his big oversized t-shirts that were covering you enough to have your ass and legs exposed, and a pair of lace panties that really left nothing to the imagination. You really didn’t do it on purpose but after having to wear a blouse all day for just a video call, you couldn’t wait to get comfy in some baggy clothes.  He smiled, his eyes still lingering on your body, and he walked closer. You felt a heat rising in your body, and your heart started to race when he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before sitting down next to you.
You closed your eyes at his touch on your skin and you leaned towards him just to exchange a sweet hello kiss. 
"All good..." you chuckled slightly keeping your eyes on the screen "...How’s your favorite Formula 1 driver?" you asked.
You already knew the answer, you couldn’t have possibly resisted from checking on the media, but you wanted him to tell you his version of the day and his side of the story. He nodded, scrolling his shoulders a little while walking around the bed to get to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. “Could’ve put it in P1 but P2 is still a great position for tomorrow” he explained, opening a Coca-Cola. 
“ Front row? That’s awesome, we should go celebrate tonight!” 
“Yeah we should “ he smiled back at you “Anyway, I like your…  outfit" he probed you again as he drank and you felt his gaze on you and especially on your legs and ass.
“Yeah?” 
“You look hot as hell with my clothes on” 
You giggled, shaking your head and continued typing on the computer keyboard. You heard him sigh after the fridge door closed and the mattress sank to the level of your knees under his weight. “Lemme just finish this report, baby… it’s due tomorrow” A laugh escaped your lips as he rested his cheek on your cheek.
Your butt cheek.
“Shhh I’m not even here” he chuckled, his voice muffled by the contact between his lips and your bare skin. He was hugging your ass tenderly, nesting his face on the butt cheeks with his eyes closed.
You bit your lip as you adjusted your glasses on the bridge of your nose returning your gaze to the screen of your laptop. Lando smiled and began leaving a trail of wet kisses on your ass cheeks. It was so obvious that he was trying to get closer to the inner point between your thighs and all those soft squeezes were just a way to tease you and get you all worked up.
“Stop it” you ordered trying to repress a laugh. "Shhh, keep writing… we don’t wanna leave the report incomplete, right?"
Such a motherfucker, you thought.  He was doing it on purpose. 
You bit your lip and looked back at your notebook in front of you as you tried to ease that excitement by gripping your pen tightly. Your concentration on your worksheets was long gone because of him.
It was no secret that the sexual drive between you and Lando was very strong, you were used to having sex quite often, every time you had the chance and despite this, you felt like you could never get enough of him. You wanted it all the time. When you were together, the world around could have disappeared and you wouldn't have cared. You loved Lando, you loved the way he made you feel, the way you two fought for stupid things but then made up right after, and the way you had the same sense of humour, with stupid jokes, how he made you laugh and smile. You were deeply in love with every single flaw, every little detail that characterized him. And you knew that the same was true for him.
You were bringing out the best in each other. He made you feel like a better person. Too caught up in Lando's lips on your skin, you didn't even notice a window appearing on the screen warning you that the computer was dead and it would shut down in a few minutes time.
"Oh no, my computer is dead"  you complained as you immediately looked around for the cable to charge it.  Lando let a moan against your skin as you tried to stand up, his gaze following you closely.
You could feel it burning on your skin like it was made of kerosene, lines across your back, shoulders and down your hips and legs. It was obvious, if not crystal clear, what was going to happen shortly after and the more you thought about it, the more you felt the excitement build inside you and then land between your thighs. Lando was a champion yeah, but not in making his intentions unclear. He was very good at it, that was the reason why you knew what was next. “That’s unfortunate…” Lando said behind you “No computer uh?” his hand found their way to your hips, squeezing them slightly while his mouth was well happy to reclaim his right spot on your neck. 
You smiled and bit your lip, as he turned you towards him, staring you straight in the eyes and peering into your soul. 
« We should find a way to entertain ourselves while it charges, what do you think?» he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek and caressing it, a strand of hair escaped from your bun and Lando didn’t waste a minute to gently put it back behind your ear. 
That was so classic of him. His gentle touch and his sweet eyes outlined by his flirty and guilty grin. 
“Maybe we anticipate those P2 celebrations…Got any ideas, baby?”
For some reason, you couldn’t find your voice. It was frozen inside your throat as if you were compelled by any Lando little move, a doll in his arms. His touch was light on your skin, safe and comforting at the same time, conveying warmth and security. You were mesmerized by his movements, by his eyes still focused on yours, so much that you didn't even notice that his hands had stopped being placed on your hips for a while. They were now around your ass.
He held it between his palms eagerly and not long after your mouths met.
It felt like the first kiss in decades. Nothing soft or chaste, that was a kiss of hunger, lust and desire. Lando moaned into your mouth and pushed you further into his body for more contact.  “Want me to tell you what I think?” he asked subtly, starting to give attention to your neck. 
You were still slightly stunned and didn't know where to put your hands, you just wanted him to yourself so you couldn’t help but nod at his question.  
You started kissing again, lips fighting for dominance along with teeth and tongue. Dancing together to what was your favourite lusty dance. 
“I think…” he started, placing kisses along your neck but returning to your lips every time “ I think this outfit makes me wanna wreck you”  His hands roamed your body, caressing and rubbing every inch of it and his lips moved down your neck and he nipped at your skin, stopping just above your collarbone and he whispered in your ear “Correction…I’m gonna wreck you.”
There he was. The dirty talk. He knew the effect it had on you. He knew he could get you wet in minutes – if not seconds– with it.  
                His chest was warm under your hands and you immediately got rid of his team polo, tracing the lines of his defined abs with your index finger, moving along that sharp V-line and gradually trailing your finger along the seam of his boxers. The elastic of his jogging pants tightened against his pelvis, showing that hint of dominance and excitement that made your mouth water just at the sight of it. You were already impatient so you didn’t waste any time and tried to push him to the bed so you could sit on him, too bad that he was faster than you and reversed the positions, licking his lips amused by the situation.
There was no time to ask what was going on in his mind because he kissed you passionately again, pressing his tongue to your lips trying to get the kiss more passionate and languid. Now you were both lying in bed again, him in his rightful spot between your legs, your arms tightening and hugging is shoulders, your breasts pressed against his chest, and his hands roamed over your body curiously and vigorously. You both couldn’t stop. He broke away from the kiss only to take off his shirt – that you were wearing – and noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra. Lando’s eyes doubled their size and his lips got immediately trapped by his teeth. 
"Jesus Christ" he cursed, giggling at the sight of your bare breasts, his gaze on you was always your favourite boost of confidence and you couldn’t help but arch your back to allow him to take your shirt off completely. His right hand cupped your breast firmly and you gasped as his finger pinched your sensitive nipple vulnerable to his touch. He knew every possible way to make you whimper and every spot that made you crazy. He was a master of it. He knew how to touch and where to touch. He was a magician of your body: every strength and weakness, and even though you had known each other your whole life, he knew more about you than he knew about himself.
But then he stopped, he lifted his head to look at you and for a moment it seemed as if he no longer knew you. It was as if he had forgotten everything, as if you were both beginners and he didn't know how to proceed, how to start. He stayed in that position for what seemed like endless minutes and then he smiled. His teeth chewing on his lips while his usual grin was showing in all his glory. 
“On your tummy for me, please?” 
A small laugh escaped your lips before they got captured by your teeth, too turned on to even respond as you jerked your arm, lying flat on your stomach with your face looking out over that wonderful and magical view of Austin. 
“I thought you wanted to tell me about quali “ you hissed trying to persuade him poorly. You were the first one in the room who didn’t want him to stop. 
“Yeah…no, let’s do no talking now” he chuckled bringing his hands to your hips and pulling them up so that your ass was well set in the perfect position he loved, giving you that feeling of a light feather tickling your back.
He absolutely loved taking you from behind, having the view of your perfect back arching for him and feeling how deep he could go from that angle. 
"Your back is a work of art baby, my God"
A spasm left your lips as you felt his fingers grabbing the hem of your lacey culottes, dragging the fabric down and exposing your sensitive areas with that seductive touch. 
His hand was steady and firm, straightly directed to your heated core. 
Even though you were giving him your back and couldn’t see his face, everything was very stimulating, so much so that you couldn't help but grip the sheets with your fingers just in an attempt to release your tension. 
“ Jeez, you missed me this much while I was gone? You’re soaked and I barely touched you ” he whined and with one small move of his hand, he got you moaning and whimpering in a matter of seconds. Just with the brush of his fingers on your clit, teasing it and sometimes pinching it enough to hear the soft sounds that he loved so much. 
“Lando, I want you so bad …” you stuttered between the moans and the pants that were escaping your lips every time you had to take a breath. You would have loved to feel Lando's lips wrapping around you, sucking hungrily over your clit or longing for your throbbing core, but you knew he was holding back on purpose. You knew that he was building up the pleasure until you were on the verge of an orgasm. You felt your body trembling with anticipation as you waited for him to finally take you over the edge.
“Oh I know princess, I can see that” 
You were a mess, shaking and arching under his touch. At that point, you didn't know if it was from the pleasure or the anticipation of what was next. Lando sighed softly as he finally shed his underwear and then a moan from him exploded in your ear. He had finally bent over your body, skin to skin, placing one hand on your left hip, the other holding his erection, as he helped himself into your throbbing entrance. 
“I’m gonna make you feel so good Y/N, I promise” You felt his member tickling your pussy, making you breathless for a few seconds, his mouth attached to your neck and started biting, licking, kissing, lapping, and then he slid into you all at once.
“Such a showoff” You gasped at the surprise but finding it hard to repress a smile of pleasure. You felt him all inside you from the start, as he rubbed against your walls that were always too tight, gripping him so nicely. 
"You can take it" and he was right. Yes, you could.
His grip tightened and he thrust harder and faster trying to find the perfect pace, his movements becoming more intense with each moment. "Fuck baby…" he snarled and finally brought his other hand to your side "You're so damn tight."
You closed your eyes for just a few seconds, tightened the lids and then moved your ass against his pelvis, meeting his thrusts.  He was pounding inside of you and every time it felt sharper and more intense, his breathing heavy and ragged. His moans of pleasure were loud and intense, as he worked himself closer and closer to climax. Finally, he grabbed your hip and pulled you closer, tightening as you screamed out his name in pleasure. 
“God… you’re heaven to me”   His breathing grew uneven and you knew he was about to cum.
Lando pressed your ass on his stomach, and his cock was moving rhythmically inside you, making you see stars every single time. 
He loved to play dirty. He knew how to provoke you and how to drive you crazy. "Fuck..." he panted against your back for the umpteenth time, released one hand from your hip and pinched the nipple of your chest so you bit your tongue to keep from screaming.
“Don’t hold back princess, lemme hear those pretty noises” The situation was getting hotter and hotter. You had just started and yet it already felt like you were about to burst. There were drops of sweat running down your sweaty bodies as your walls kept clenching on his cock.
“I’m almost there, Lan…” You panted collapsing on the pillow and letting out a whine of pleasure. You could feel it growing inside of you and his breathing quickened as he felt your clench around him. You were almost there, seconds from your orgasm, when Lando pulled away leaving you utterly surprised. He pulled out of you slowly and turned you around to face you. Now your back was resting on the mattress and his eyes were in yours, staring at you panting and hissing. 
You were a work of art displayed in all your beauty in front of his eyes. He couldn’t stop looking. 
And then, his lips got caught by his teeth again and he reclaimed his favourite spot between your legs, immediately attacking your clit just to bring you back to the edge.  He continued to stare at you for what seemed like endless minutes as he flashed a smile and leaned over, brushing his lips against your right ear and making you shiver further.
"I wanna see your pretty face while you’re coming." After he said that, he took your hips roughly with his hands and sank into you again. Once again, Lando managed to be delicate and passionate at the same time. The way he touched your waist, his curls tickling your forehead, lips touching each time Lando pushed inside of you. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, in a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more.  You felt yourself slipping into a trance, unable to control your body or thoughts any longer. Your body started to tremble as Lando gave you his all, his movements becoming faster and more intense.  
The way he looked was unreal to you, all that glistening skin and glorious muscles were perfection to your eyes. He looked so incredibly stunning fucking you so well. You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, everywhere. 
You grabbed him by the chin, reattaching your lips again. You were craving that contact, you needed his lips on yours to feel the magic: sex was amazing but when you got to kiss him in the act, it just became something else. 
“Babe, fuck’m coming..." he snarled in a hoarse voice and increased his speed.
Your nails ended on his back, scratching it and gripping it as the thrusts became more intense, your muffled moans of pleasure becoming clearer and clearer.
“I love you so much, Lando” 
And then you felt it: the tip of his cock hit the most sensitive spot inside of you and just like that you came like never before,  your body shaking and trembling with pleasure as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Lando followed close behind you and let out an animalistic moan before collapsing on your chest. You both lay there, breathing heavily until your breathing returned to normal.
“I love you too baby, I love you too” 
You both tried to catch your breath and your hands found their way between Lando’s curls, stroking it lovely in an attempt to calm him and yourself.  
Then Lando moved, coming out from your core and pushing himself to lay next to you and you couldn’t help but stare at each other for seconds, smiling like idiots for what it felt like minutes. 
“Stop looking at me like that” he whispered, welcoming you between his arms. 
“Like what?”  
He didn’t answer, leaving you with a confused grin plastered on your face before he pulled you in for a kiss  “I’m in love with you and can’t stop grinning like an idiot” 
You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his eyes. You felt at peace and you knew this was where you'd always be.
Those words felt like a warm embrace, and you knew you were home. You melted into his embrace, feeling safe and secure and your heart swelled with happiness. 
946 notes · View notes
futureman · 9 months
Text
keep it on the low
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism
word count: 3k
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a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
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Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.
Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?
Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.
You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.
And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.
You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.
Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.
The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.
“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”
He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.
“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You���re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.
You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.
You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”
He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”
You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.
Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.
“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
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He doesn’t.
Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.
“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.
"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.
“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.
"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.
“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.
"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”
His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.
“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.
“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”
And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.
Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.
More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.
He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.
His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.
You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.
"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.
He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.
"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"
You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.
And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.
"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."
You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.
"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.
But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.
You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.
His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.
It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—
"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.
But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.
"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.
It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.
"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."
It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.
Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.
"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.
"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.
Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.
He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.
"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."
And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.
The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.
"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.
"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.
"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.
No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.
"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"
You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.
"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."
At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.
It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.
Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.
This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.
He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.
Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.
Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.
He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.
And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.
He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.
"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."
You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.
"I'm yours."
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thanks for reading! 💕
2K notes · View notes
mafiadad5 · 2 months
Text
arguments
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Genre- smut (mdni), established relationship
Dom!Jaemin x fem!reader
Warnings- oral (male receiving), degradation, unprotective (wear protection plz…), hint of praise, cum eating, slight videography…, choking, hair pulling 18+,
Word count- 2.3k+
Summary- you and your bf got into an argument the night before, but you still have an attitude that he wants to knock out of you.
note- no proof read heheh, hope you like🎀
You loved how you and Jaemin's majors could work together.
All the partner work in your classes just prompted more time you got to spend with your boyfriend, and it helped that he had his own private filming studio. It was perfect, well almost perfect.
Yes the fact that you got to spend more time with him was nice, but whenever you got in fights it was always tense when you had to do projects together, and with your attitude it was almost inevitable that the arguments didn't grow bigger than they should've over little bickering, but Jaemin always tried to keep his cool with you, trying to deescalate the situation as best as he could so nothing major would happen between the two of you. This day was no different, yes the argument was a little heated the night before, but he thought he gave you enough time to cool off so you were in a better mood— he couldn't be more wrong.
"Okay go." He spoke, aiming the camera at you as you stood in front of a black back drop.
"Hi, I'm Y/n! Here is today's news report... the camera isn't even straight Jaemin. Can you please do it correctly?" He looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the snarky comment as you looked up at him with a smug expression.
"Just try again." He said with a forced smile, nodding as he positioned his camcorder differently in his hand so he could get a better grip. He never got offended by advice or criticism from you, but he knew that you were doing it on purpose, and that pissed him off more than anything.
"Hi, I'm Y/n! Here's today's news report!... can I see it so far? To make sure it's ok?"
"Of course baby." He hummed, pulling up the video as you approached him. "There's something off." You said, standing beside him, watching the video of you. "You don't really sound confident and you look a little lost." Jaemin said, he was honestly trying to give you advice—petty actions aside, this was still a project for class so he wanted you to do your best. "I really didn't ask you." You said, his face filled with exasperation.
He was losing patience with you, he's so calm and just wants you to do well, but all you do is shit on him after arguments then act like nothing is wrong after he eats you out, and treats you well as an apology. Well he wants an apology too, but you're too stuck up and he was getting tired of it.
"Baby, please let's not do this right now, please. I'm really trying to be patient. I was just letting you know." He lowered his camera, turning to you trying to grab your hand, but you instantly pulled it away from his, looking at him. "No I just think it's funny that you go here for film, but I know how to work a camera better than you, I'm not the one who looks lost Jaemin... just letting you know."
He was beyond upset at this point, you knew that it deeply hurt him when people downplayed his hard work, and yet there you were using it against him.
"You should take my criticism so you don't look fucking stupid when we present." He scoffed, tension thickening the air as he slowly backed you into a wall, his voice was darker and it kind of scared you, you've never seen him like this before, the intimidation made your knees weak, all you wanted to do is pry and make him even more upset to see what would happen.
"You're nothing but a dumb fucking photographer, take my criticism."
The room grew silent for a little as he paused, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you with ruinous eyes. His mind filled with rage, he couldn't even think straight, backing you into the wall, his hand on your neck, pushing your head to the wall. His eyes were dark as he gripped you tightly, his knee pressing against your thigh pinning you down, causing you to gasp from the sudden physical contact.
"Am I?"
You looked at him, staying completely silent, your demeanor changing completely as his fingers teased the soft skin on your neck. "Jaem—" you let out a soft, accidental moan, a small smirk appearing on his face from your desperation.
"God you're so desperate." His voice was deep and dark. You looked at him with eyes of innocence while staying silent. "Nothing to say now, hmm?" His grip tightened on your neck, causing you to let out a silent gasp as his fingers dug into your skin.
"I've had it with your little attitude, your dirty little mouth. I've been way more lenient with you than I should've been, but it seems like you want me to use your filthy mouth, so I will." He pushed you on your knees in front of him, turning on the camera that was still in his hand, positioning it on you. "Pull down my pants." You didn't even hesitate, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down to his ankles, along with his underwear.
You couldn't help wrapping your hands around his dick, ready to do anything he told you to do, eyes looking into his as a sinister smile crept onto his face. He grabbed your hair, yanking it up to make you look at him.
"Did I tell you to do that?" You removed your hands from him, shaking your head.
"Do exactly what you're told to do, don't be a greedy little slut, do you understand?" You nodded again, looking up at him with pretty doe eyes, causing a little smile from him.
"Look at my little cockslut on her knees all pretty for me."
He tugged your hair, pulling your head up higher to look at him. "Stick out your tongue." He spoke sternly, a look of lust appearing on his face as you stuck your tongue out. He grabbed the base of his dick, tapping his tip on your tongue, a smirk appearing on his face.
“Suck on it. Just the tip, and I swear if you go past the tip I will destroy your throat. Do you understand me?” You nodded, grabbing his length, holding it to your mouth, looking at him before putting it in. One thing you learned about Jaemin was that he always teased in a way, whether that be on you, or on himself. It drives him over the edge, the desperation and the feeling of anticipation when he teases you with his tip, and now was no different. You began sucking like he asked, causing a light breath to leave his mouth. His moans were silent as he gasped, positioning the camera steady on you, holding your hair as he watched the way your lips moved on his tip, the way your tongue swirled on his sensitive spot, it drove him almost insane, the feeling of wanting more.
The feeling of wanting more was definitely mutual though the way you accidentally went lower and lower, trying to sink yourself onto him. You never gave him head, he wouldn’t let you, he said that he wanted you first, so it was his job to please you, and that’s exactly what he always did. Now since you’ve finally tasted him you wanted to savor it. He tugged at your hair, pulling you off of him, giving you a distasteful look.
“What did I tell you?” He tugged your hair back a little more. “Not to go past.” You hummed quietly. “So why did you?” He said, letting go of your hair and grabbing your cheeks, smooshing them together, forcing you to look up at him.
“That’s the problem, you’re a desperate little whore who gets what she wants, when she wants it, it stops today.” He released your mouth, causing you to look at the floor.
“Jaem I’m sorry, I just wanted to taste you.” You mumbled out. He grabbed your hair again, lifting your head, tapping his tip on your glossy lips.
“Don’t worry, you will— open slut.” You opened your mouth and Jaemin didn’t hesitate, pushing his whole dick inside, letting out a stuttered groan. You choked, latching your lips around him as he thrusted in your mouth. You held onto his legs for support as he hit the back of your throat in a perfect rhythm. He let out curses and moans as you moaned around his dick, causing your throat to vibrate around his tip. “Dirty fucking slut, taking my dick so well.” He said gripping your hair harder, pulling you deeper and deeper.
Tears were dwelling in your eyes as he forced himself into your mouth roughly, still holding the camera steady on you. “Oh shit I’m about to cum.” He moaned out, looking at you with desperate eyes.
“Make me cum baby.” He cried out, throwing his head back as he sloppily moved your head up and down on his dick, pushing once more while letting out a choked moan. “Fuck.” He whimpered before you felt a warm liquid filling your throat, forcing you to swallow which sent a shiver down his spine. He took a few deep breaths before exiting out of your mouth, looking down at you again.
“Good fucking slut.” He slickly smiled, messily wiping the tears out of your eyes, the camera focused on you.
He was way more amused than he’d like to admit, he never knew how beautiful you were like this, under his control, but he loved how drunk you were off his dick and how your eyes sparkled and lips glossed after he fucked your throat out.
“Get up.” He said, setting down his camera. You got up, standing in front of him as his dark eyes looked into yours. “I’m sorry Jaemin.” You said. He backed you into the wall, turning you over so he was pressed against your backside. “Tell me how sorry you are.” He said, pulling down your skirt and underwear in one swift movement, grabbing your hips and pulling you lower half away from the wall closer to his. Your breathing got shaky as he positioned himself at your entrance.
“I’m sorry for treating you like shit.”
He hummed, pushing his tip in and out of your entrance causing little whines out of you. “Do you think you deserve to be fucked right now?” You shook your head no, a chill running through your spine as you heard his dark voice mixed with his teasing. “So why do you think I’m gonna fuck you?” He asked, sliding his dick up to your clit, slapping the sensitive spot softly. “Because I’m your little slut.” You said, causing a chuckle to come out of his mouth. “That’s right, my pretty little slut to destroy.”
He slid back to your entrance, pushing himself into you, causing you to let out a soft whimper. “Jaem—” you moaned out as he started going in and out of you faster. You held onto the wall. “You feel so fucking good.” He whispered in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your pussy.  He started thrusting, punching your hips slightly as he held onto you, pushing you into the wall every thrust. He left wet kisses on your neck as he sped up the pace. “You like this huh, my dick all in your pretty little pussy?” His voice was breathy as he fought the moans that wanted to be released from his mouth as he went at an unimaginable speed, his thrust swift.
One of his hands moved to the back of neck, holding you as you moaned muffled sounds into the wall. Your skin flushed with pleasure as he hit your gspot, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he thrusted harder, sweet sounds of lust filling the room from both of your bodies. His body moved aimlessly into yours, your walls sucking  him in perfectly like a puzzle piece.
“Jaemin I’m about to cum.” You whimpered out. “If you want to cum you have to beg me, or I’ll stop.” The feeling of his hands on your body, his voice on your neck, made a resistant temptation that you couldn’t control, couldn’t fight. You didn’t care if you’ve never done it before, shit you didn’t even care if it was embarrassing, you just wanted him so bad at the moment so you would’ve done whatever it took.
“Please Jaemin, please let me cum, please.” He smiled into your skin, going even faster than before causing you to let out tired moans.
“You’re so desperate baby, it’s so cute.” His moans began to louden and his thrust started to get sloppier by the second. “Cum for me baby— fuck.” He moaned out loudly, the resistance around his dick from your clenching walls made him go insane, pushing him to his near. “I’m cumming Jaemin.” You cried out, holding the wall and closing your eyes tightly as your stomach tightened and your body started to shake uncontrollably.
You felt Jaemin’s cum spill inside of you as you both released, catching your breath. He exited out of you, his ooze dripping down your leg. 
It was later on and you laid in his bed, looking at him as he walked into the room, looking at his camera.
“I’m actually sorry for being an ass Jaem.”
He looked up at you smiling, jumping in bed beside you. “It’s ok baby, next time you pull some bs I’ll pull this up.” He showed you the video of what he took earlier, looking at you as he smiled cutting off the camera and tossing it to the side.
“Jaemin stop.” You looked at him, flustered and embarrassed.
“You look cute Y/n. I love you baby, sorry for going hard on you.”
“I love you too Jaemin, and it was kinda hot I guess. You smiled.
539 notes · View notes
bluemerakis · 3 months
Text
┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐
✐ᝰ bluemerakis
┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛
❝ I’m the guy mothers warn you about, the son they’re afraid to have ❞
⇀ Word count: 15k words (sorry ☠️)
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Guess who finally mustered up the courage to write a Coriolanus Snow fic, and holy shit, this might just be the longest once-off I’ve ever written.
My dear @quicksilversg1rl , this fic goes out to you 100x over. I hope this makes up for the fact that I couldn’t put Tom under your tree ☹️ I hope that it’s enough that I put him in your dreams instead <3
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WARNINGS:
dom!coriolanus, some out-of-pocket makes-you-go “wtaf💀” Coriolanus moments, smut, swearing, possessiveness, manipulation, toxic relationship, choking, pet names, degradation, edging, lots of italics and dashes (sorry I was feeling myself (not literally you sicko) ), masturbation, unprotected sex, cockwarming, dryhumping/wethumping(?), fingering/fisting, oral sex f receiving, the therapy you’ll need after reading these warnings
‼️DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS‼️
SYNOPSIS:
Coriolanus had always known you held potential to win the games, from the day he’d laid his eyes on you at the 10th annual reaping. You were the key he’d been missing all these years, and how he saw almost every opportunity unlocked by your presence at that year’s hunger games.
The secret of how he’d risen into power? The answer was much simpler than anyone had expected. You. Sure, Coriolanus had done his fair share of treason and murder to contribute to his status, but it was your victory that had granted him access to the Plinth fortune and made his ambitions possible. He wasn’t a man that liked to share credit, but he thought your performance in the games a worthy enough candidate.
To show you just how thankful he was, he’d invited you to live with him after the games, for however long you pleased, and he’d made it his mission to show you all the pleasures the Capitol and his lifestyle had to offer. He liked having you near him at all times, and he liked it even better when he was inside of you.
What he didn’t like, though? When you flirted with other men, especially when it served to get a rise out of him.
Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like sharing, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience, either. You’d learn that lesson the hard way.
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Coriolanus was a man bred for purpose, like his father before him, and it was a purpose he often reminded you of—a means to keep your neediness at bay, to tame your urge to be at his side every waking hour of the day, a ploy to remind you just how little value you posed to him outside of a night of fleeting pleasure. He marvelled in the opportunity to make you feel insignificant, a false promise too-quickly forsaken the moment your existence captured another man’s desire—a man that wasn’t him.
In the midst of a party he’d rather not have attended, he watched you from a quiet corner of the venue hall, conversing away with a man he hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting just yet. He didn’t know whether you were honestly that painfully oblivious to the desires of the man before you, who clearly wanted nothing more than a taste of one of the renowned hunger games victors, or whether you had deliberately struck up a conversation to get a rise out of Coriolanus.
But when his eyes narrowed on your hand that reached to move a strand of your hair back to the security behind your ear, he knew then exactly which particular game you were playing.
You always did that when you felt subconscious—when you knew you were being watched. It was a tell that Coriolanus had come to identify the more time he’d spent observing you. He’d needed to—it was necessary in order to know the truths you would not tell him. Not out loud, at least. But now, he was pretty fluent in your body language, in more than one way.
He watched you tilt your head to the side in the slightest manner, an act that often sent all the conservativeness of men toppling over the edge. Your lip suctioned into a concentrated bite as you offered small, attentive nods—you were getting him to think you’re interested in what he has to say, pretending not to notice the way his eyes traced your lips and occasionally flickered across your peeping breasts.
The sight stirred an anger in Coriolanus, his fingers tightening around the glass of wine clutched in one hand. He lifted the wine to his lips, taking a sip as though it would somehow quench the imminent fire that threatened to take control of all reasonability. He couldn’t let you get a rise out of him, not in public where he had an image to uphold. Goddamn you and your games, he hated being the one to play it. That had been the fate of you and the districts, not him—Capitol-born and rich beyond imagination. Was this his retribution to pay? Sentenced to your little games after all he’d brought upon you?
You moved a hand to caress the man’s shoulder, offering a sweet giggle. And then there it was, the slightest glance in his direction, fleeting but an obvious beckon for attention. Coriolanus clenched his jaw as you purposefully turned your back on him, his eyes boring into your exposed shoulder blades, framed by a dress that paraded all the right aspects of your body—a dress he’d picked out for you. He hadn’t gone through all that effort to make you look so ravishing, only for another man to enjoy it. It had been for him, a reminder of what his prize would be after enduring this insufferable party.
He’d planned to rip it from you, as mercilessly as he could offer, to toss it onto the floor and you onto the bed, naked and accessible to whatever he desired. However, you seemed hellbent on denying him a good night. He watched you reach for the man’s hand, your motion suggestive as you tugged on him and began to lead him away from the mayhem.
Coriolanus knew exactly where you were taking him.
He watched you weave your way through the dancing bodies, the music falling into the background as he trailed your every move—the way the man blatantly admired the curve of your ass. What an unacceptable circumstance, to think his favourite toy was not his own limited edition—one only he could afford to play with. After all, why had he endured the battlefield of this unfair life to claim a reward that promised power and money and control, only to feel so helpless in his infatuation over you. He hated what primal need controlled him, rendered him incapable of letting you go.
What had it all been for? The poison, the betrayal, the heinous crimes he’d committed—all to prove that he bore no seal of humanity, felt no obligation to love, until you came along, making him look the fool each time you batted a devious lash or wrung those perfect lips around suggestive words. Each time you spoke was like fragments of an enchantment, slowly being made whole and taking its magical toll on his entire being, beginning to claim everything he was—making him obsess, making him weak.
The day he’d gotten you as his tribute, you’d had been nothing more than a mission—a means to secure a prize that would set him for life. But there had been something about you, something that had drawn him in like a sudden whirlpool, now he couldn’t escape the obsession you’d cursed him with. He’d never before felt the burden of caring about another person’s life, needing to know what they were up to at all times.
Coriolanus recalled seeing you for the first time, the day of the reaping, after the tributes had been transported to the Capitol. He remembered seeing you thrown into the zoo display—the way you had instantly found your feet and ran a hand through your hair, made unruly by a rough and sleepless night. Your brows were knitted closely together with unmistakable anger, a look that promised vengeance to the Capitol despite the silence on your lips. Your dress had been made ragged to match your hair, evidence that the bats had showed no mercy toward your pretty privilege. Maybe it had been your looks that had drawn them in, after all.
He’d been ready to deem you a lost cause, disappointed that once again, he’d been stuck with rigged odds. He had been convinced that somewhere beneath that shredded fabric on your skin, you bore the kiss of rabies, doomed to die like countless before you. But he’d seen a few of the other tributes, bearing the same tells of their struggle with the bats in their shredded clothes and tired eyes. One of those amongst the suffering had been your fellow district twelve tribute, Morgan Lark, and he had possessed the worst wounds out of all the affected.
It’d been less than a few hours until the wounded tributes started retching up fountains of white, their eyes glassy and their movements frantically lost on them. Yet there you had sat, watching with perfect control and composure as they had dwindled into mere husks of the people they used to be.
Coriolanus knew then that you had been different—stronger, a tribute that might just prove the risk to be worth it. He’d insisted on investigating the cart you’d been transported in, eager to know the truth behind your journey. Had you truly been strong enough to evade the consequences of the bats? The mystery of it all was pressing enough to consume his every thought. He needed to know. His future depended on it, depended on you.
That evening, after much persistence and a bribe that he honestly couldn’t have afforded, he’d gained access to your cart. There wasn’t much to look at, given that it was nothing more than an empty container, without even the courtesy of a blanket. The scene was almost hauntingly familiar, personal. Nonetheless, he’d paced the walls, eyes searching every aspect of the metal, every dent and hole in the floor. He’d found nothing other than a few rusty nails—nothing interesting, that is until he’d picked one of them up and inspected it closer to find its apex crusted with blood.
A few of the nails were identical in their blood-coating, not a coincidence. Coriolanus gathered them up into his father’s handkerchief, almost regretting the decision as the rust stained the symbolic, white fabric. He placed them cautiously into his blazer pocket, scanning the cart one last time before making his departure. He made a beeline to the morgue, where the bodies of the five infected tributes had been placed shortly after their passing. He needed to see Morgan Lark’s body, to know what secret you could have hidden in his death.
Once he’d gained access to the corpse, he’d pulled back the white covering. A strong waft of formaldehyde greeted his senses and burned his eyes teary. He had been surprised that the body was being preserved, though he didn’t doubt that Dr. Gual had plans to somehow extract and weaponise the rabies in the next games. The chemicals had instantly become so overwhelming that he had to pull his handkerchief from his pocket, empty the rusted nails onto the tray and cover his mouth and nose with the fabric to keep his nausea at bay.
Coriolanus studied the corpse, struggling to contain his pressing disgust as he laid his eyes on the shredded flesh. The bats had gone to town on Morgan, leaving little sections of skin intact. He’d mustered up the courage to get close enough to inspect the wounds, noting that the scratches embedded along his body were not all the work of the bats. No, some of them had been too deep of a wound for a bat’s claws to commit. He had a very good idea of the origins of those wounds, his eyes flickering to the rusted nails on the tray.
He knew then that it was not strength or immunity that had protected you from the touch of death, but your keen mind and craftiness with sharp objects. Coriolanus had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened: you’d managed to get close enough to cut Morgan with the nails, ensuring wounds that were deep enough to bleed profusely, which attracted and encouraged the bats to attack him. You hadn’t been so lucky to go completely unnoticed by the bats, hence the disheveled dress, but you had sure as hell been lucky enough to have been spared from their bite.
What a clever girl you were, perhaps too much for your own good.
Coriolanus had to admit that he’d been impressed by your cruelty—your drive to survive. It gave you an edge, a promising reason to win. He liked those odds, you were becoming a plausible risk to him. Just what would you have been willing to do to a tribute you’ve yet to meet, if you’d so easily betrayed a fellow district partner?
As he’d left the morgue that evening, he couldn’t deny the smirk that had wound his lips the entire trip back. He knew then that, for the first time in all his years as a mentor, this might be the year that he’d finally claim the Plinth prize.
What a worthwhile pick you had been. He liked good investments, and you had proven to be the best one yet. You’d taken that entire game, playing it smart, staying lost in the shadows and gathering what scraps you could make into a worthwhile means of defence. You weren’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter by any means, but you were smart, and that was a quality lost on many of the tributes.
They all marched around, boasting their strength as some sort of show of dominance. They thought it made them ferocious, earned them another hour of life, but Coriolanus knew that it only drew attention, that they were stupid in bringing about a speedier death. You had known that, too.
Coriolanus slipped out of his mind, watching as you’d stopped by one of the tables to grab a snack, making a point to be sloppy so that the strange man would feel honour in being able to wipe your lips clean, spurring on his ego and his erection. You had pulled that trick on Coriolanus many times. He hated seeing you provide that same sort of attention to anyone else.
His attention was diverted to a pair of Capitol business men, who had approached him and were attempting to bombard him with pitches he couldn’t have been more arsed to consider, not when he had something more pressing on his mind—not when you had deliberately stolen his attention away.
How incredibly selfish that you should demand his time even when you were not at his side, or laying below him with your legs spread open and cunt practically begging for his generosity. He didn’t tolerate time-wasters of any regard, so he’d ensure that you made up for it.
He lifted a dismissive hand toward the face of one of the men, who fell silent with a look of indignation, but even he wasn’t fool enough to unleash his temper unto the heir of the Plinth fortune. Had Coriolanus known that murdering his best friend would have come with so many perks, he’d have made a point to bring about that particular death benefit much sooner.
He lifted the glass to his lips, draining the rich wine that had been marinating the depths of the glass for far too long. He beckoned over one of the runners, placing his empty glass onto the tray before turning his attention back to the business men.
He offered an insincere dip of his chin. “My apologies, but I’ve more pressing matters to tend to. Please, do enjoy the beverages,” he slipped between their dumbfounded bodies, before adding, “and the women, if it’d please you.”
Coriolanus manoeuvred his way through the crowd, his eyes not once leaving you, even if he had to watch you relentlessly flirt with the other man. Not only were you good with your hands, but you unintentionally weaponised your beauty, too. He had always thought you to possess an innocence that seemed to frame your features, a natural gift that kept eyes focused on the contours of your face rather than on the schemes of your hands. That had always been your advantage—in the games and in your everyday interactions.
It made him angry that you’d remade his mind in this way. No matter how much Coriolanus tried to remind himself of the purpose he’d been bred for, all that he’d done to get to where he was now, all the people he’d carelessly murdered—there was no denying the truth:
No matter what higher, callous deity he claimed to be, he was only just a man, carved from anger and burdened with otherworldly jealously. All because of you.
Just as Coriolanus had managed to push past the last of the dancing bodies that had been blocking his path, he spotted you leaving through the doors, dragging your new pet behind you. His footsteps were brisk as he made for that same doorway, his fists balling at his sides as he stifled the urge to redirect his anger unto the unsuspecting door man. No, he’d best save that anger for you, transform it into something that would make you suffer, as he’d been forced to endure this evening.
He slipped through the doors, instantly greeted by a much quieter atmosphere, the laughter and music of the event muffled behind the now closed doors. Across the room, he saw you slip into the elevator, glimpsing just a hint of a smirk on your perfect lips as the doors slid closed and engulfed his view of you.
Annoyance pricked at his chest, he’d have to wait for the elevator to come back down. That was too much time gifted to you, time that could easily be used to bring you one step closer to coming undressed for that man. He’d never found himself wishing for a stairwell more than he did right now, but Capitol architecture stupidly insisted that stairs were a concept made only for the districts.
Coriolanus trudged his way over to the elevator, running an impatient hand through his hair as he watched the countdown of the various different floors commence on the monitor. His residence was the topmost floor, an expensive suite that the Plinths had gifted him on his day of recognition. He’d been kind enough to allow you to stay in one of his rooms, to have you in his proximity at all times where you’d more than once enjoyed the free luxury of his lifestyle, and this is how you’d repaid him—by bringing other men into his sacred space.
He couldn’t help but imagine what you were up to at this instant. The thought of you trapped beneath the man on one of the sofas overlooking the city made him bite the inside of his cheek—those were the sofas he’d so often pinned you to, forcing you to admire the view as he admired you, demonstrating his praise for your beauty through the actions of his fingers in your cunt.
When Coriolanus had first met you, he had thought you hated drawing attention, especially when it warranted a much speedier death in the games. You’d always been so reserved, so hellbent on silence as you kept a calculating eyes on anybody who wasn’t you. He’d like that quiet air about you, it was a call for guidance, a plea for somebody to claim your trust—he knew he could have given that to you.
But now, Coriolanus could have laughed at that thought.
You, hating attention? What an odd facade he’d so easily been fooled by—but he’d grown smarter since your first encounter. He knew the real truth now. What a glorious night that had been, the first time he’d taken you to bed.
He could still smell the desperation that had trailed from your cunt as his nose burrowed into your swollen and beckoning clit—the way his hands had squeezed the skin of your inner thighs a faint blue in his attempt to trap them against the bed. They’d been so eager to wrap around his neck, to make him prisoner within your euphoria. He’d shown his disapproval by wedging your thighs further apart, an action that earned a shocked moan from you, coupled with a gasp at the growing aggression of his tongue inside of you.
How he enjoyed being the puppeteer of your body, pulling your limbs every which way until you’d been contorted and opened up for him to exploit. You often needed reminding that you were sentenced to his will, made prisoner to his desires.
He could still feel the faint traces of your arousal that had painted pictures across the sharp lines of his jaw, mercilessly freed by the way his tongue had ravished your folds and plucked from you what little dignity and silence you had managed to fashion up until that very moment. No matter how much you’d pretend to feel indifferent to his attention, your body had always betrayed you—it was unashamedly and passionately thankful to his ministrations.
Your pathetic moans still echoed on a loop in the dark corners of his mind—an ear worm he couldn’t discard of, though he couldn’t honestly admit that he’d want anything of the sort. It spurred him on, serving as a constant reminder of his pretty possession, and just how much you needed him—his touch, his validation, his attention. He was the poison-kissed oxygen that you couldn’t help but inhale, fooling yourself that it would somehow replenish the air in your lungs and give you the freedom of living, existing, all the while your every bodily cell came closer and closer to becoming his. It didn’t take much for him to claim all that you were and all that you could be, only the right words and that glorious goddamn night in bed.
He’d completely remade you in his image, branded you with his bedroom generosity, always leaving you with just enough to satisfy, but never enough to last for more than a few hours. You always came back begging for more.
What an attention whore.
At last, the elevator dinged its arrival, the doors opening to welcome Coriolanus inside. He slipped in almost instantly, moving to press the button of the top floor. When the doors finally closed, he became trapped in the air lingering inside, noticing a trace of your sweet perfume. He’d come to admire that scent, thought of it as a way to identify every place you’d been in. But your sweet scent had fused with the musky odour of that strange man, an unpleasant smell that suffocated your own in mere seconds. He could only imagine that same odour plastering itself to your neck and all across your clothes as the man forced himself onto you, enjoying what didn’t belong to him.
After a few minutes, the elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal two intertwined bodies at the other end of the lobby. You were pinned against the doors to Coriolanus’ suite, the man’s hands wandering beneath your dress and up your magnificent thighs, shrivelled lips sloppily searching the skin of your neck. Your head was tossed back against the wood, eyes sown shut as you let slip the sweetest of moans, a sound that Coriolanus had claimed as his own.
He barged through the elevator doors, the sound of his angered footsteps earning your attention. You lowered your head to him, watching with a playful smile at what was about to unfold. He ignored it, the satisfaction in that grin, the sense of achievement at your ability to control him, have him trailing after you like a dog on a leash. He’d let you have this moment, to savour its short-lived existence because once he was through with this man, he’d show you just how much trouble you’d caused him.
Coriolanus grabbed the oblivious man at the collar of his shirt, too far gone to think with his brain rather than his cock to notice he’d appeared, and plucked him from you. He shoved the man away, who stumbled backwards with his footsteps serving as clear evidence of mild intoxication. The toad began protesting, before his eyes finally found Coriolanus and his lips clamped shut on a look of realisation.
“You come into my house, drink my wine, enjoy my woman, all without a trace of shame?” Coriolanus snapped, his voice gruff with built-up anger.
The man fashioned an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean any offence, Mr. Snow, I swear by it!” His hands made frantic gestures, eager to exonerate himself. “It was her that came onto me, she invited me back here, suggested we get to know each other better—“
Coriolanus lifted his chin, his glare cold as he stared down his nose at the man. “Are you implying that it’s her fault?” It most certainly was, but if Coriolanus had to endure all that had just happened, he intended to have some fun with it.
The man stilled with a look of uncertainty that passed between you and Coriolanus, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head.
“Are you even a man at all, if you’re so easily influenced by a girl that bats her lashes at you and caresses your arm one time?” He had to ignore the irony in that statement; he could’ve almost been talking into a mirror. “You’re pathetic, blaming your lack of control and better judgement on her,” he said, eyes hardening as he took a step forward, the man simultaneously retreating a step with a gulp.
“Go find whatever excuse of a manhood you claim to have in somebody else’s cunt, and don’t let me catch you back in this building. It wont be words that warn you off next time.” His hands clenched into fists at his side, itching to grab the fleeing man and grace him with a well-earned punch—but he wouldn’t gift you that satisfaction, too.
When the elevator doors closed on the stranger, Coriolanus turned to face you. You were picking at your nails busily, as though the entire interaction had bored you beyond interest.
“What were you thinking?” He snapped at you, inching closer to glare you down.
You glanced up from your hands, offering a mere shrug as you crossed your arms and glanced up at him cheekily. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” you admitted. “Just wanted to feel some good things.”
Bitterness found its way onto Coriolanus’ tongue. “Do I not make you feel good enough?” He scolded coolly, his eyes searching yours angrily. “Would you rather I call that prick back and have him stick his two expired inches inside you?”
A hint of hurt seemed to widen your eyes, your expression shaped with confusion. “Didn’t think you cared what I got up to,” you muttered, glancing off to the side.
Coriolanus knew that to be complete bullshit, a feeble play at attempting to settle your own insecurities. He knew what you wanted to hear from him—that you mattered to him, that he wanted you to himself, that the mere thought of another man touching you would send him into inexplicable rage. To an extent, those were all true, but not in the way you'd wanted them to be, not in a way he was capable of giving.
He restrained the anger he felt towards you, knowing that he needed to take a gentler approach. You weren't in a state fit to endure his anger, not now. He needed to coddle you, to keep your emotions intact, otherwise he risked losing you. He couldn't have that.
“I care,” he said at last, moving a hand to grip at your chin. He’d forgotten how soft your skin was, it’d been weeks since he’d been permitted to touch you, business keeping him away from your warmth. He moved your face to his, searching between your eyes and your lips. “And you know that I care, too, or you wouldn’t have put on this little display.”
“You don’t care—not really, Coriolanus,” you snapped, your hand plucking his from your chin. “You constantly remind me that I’m nothing more than pleasure to you, an object you love to parade around, so as long as it’s your name engraved on me.”
Correct, he thought, his hand returning to his side. He gazed at you, the cogs of his mind reeling busily as he cautiously selected his next words. He couldn’t be angry with you, not now when you were so fragilely being kept together by emotion. It mattered what he said to you, even if the words weren’t honest. He knew that you needed reassurance, something akin to love to cling to, to keep you satisfied beside him. The condition that came with having a toy he loved to play with, was having to look after it, to ensure it didn’t break or wear with time.
That was exactly what he had to do with you, so he fed you whatever conniving words he could to keep you indulged in whatever illusion you’d had about your relationship with Coriolanus. A necessary evil to preserve his hold over you. He was selfish that way, but you were far too entertaining to let slip, and he did rather enjoy you—your company and your body.
Truthfully, you did have some sort of hold over him, and he’d let just enough of that truth show to control you, to convince you of his love for you.
“In all my years of existing, I've never once felt compelled to share my life with somebody else," Coriolanus told you softly. He moved his hand to return that same rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. "Not until you. I can't explain it, the way the mere thought of you with another man sends me into an unparalleled rage—to think that he could give you something I couldn't. The thought of somebody touching you the way I touch you. . . It's unbearable, unacceptable."
He placed his hands on either one of your cheeks, lifting your head to face him. His words had too easily buttered you up, moulded your face with a look of infatuation. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have followed you all the way up here. I’d have let you fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But the fact is, I care—a lot.”
You still harboured a certain look of uncertainty in your eyes, those damned eyes that made him go feral. He could tell that you wanted to believe him, but you had reservations that he hadn’t yet satisfied with his words. He needed to say more, do more.
“Do you see me chasing after any other girl the way I chase after you?” He pressed on, grabbing your face a little more ferociously, just to sell the point. “You’ve consumed me, reduced any ounce of respect I’ve once had for myself to nothingness. I could’ve had you pawned off the Capitol after the games, to do whatever bidding they demanded of you, but I chose to keep you by my side, to spoil you with everything you deserve for winning the games. Tell me one person who’d be willing to do the same for a district nobody that they held no care for?”
Your eyes had grown teary at his words, your bottom lip quivering beyond your control. You had meant to look tougher, Coriolanus could tell, unmoved by his words, but you were only just a naive girl burdened with the need to be loved. So you believed it, every poisonous word dripping from his lips—lapped it up hungrily like a douse of honey, in fact. Perfect. He was gaining back your trust.
You caved into Coriolanus, his hands falling from your face to wrap around your body and keep you against him. His one hand curled around the nape of your neck while the other wrapped around the small of your back, so perfectly shaped to accommodate his arm. How could he be convinced that you were not made just for him, when every aspect of your body seemed to be carved just for his touch? The hand on your head began to move with rhythmic strokes across your hair, his lips moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head. He rested his chin where he’d placed his kiss, as though sealing in the sensation, before he spoke up.
“You were incredibly selfish tonight,” he murmured. You pulled back subtly to glance up at him with slightly furrowed brows, and he lifted his chin from your head to gaze back at you impassively. “You put me through hell, making me watch as you flirted with that man, touched on him all over as you promised him sex. Do you think that was fun for me?”
Your eyes glinted with a hint of guilt, your lips parting with a soft no.
“No,” Coriolanus agreed, his eyes undeniably annoyed as he glared at your guilt-ridden expression. His fingers ventured along your back, finding the zip to your dress, the only thing keeping your body prisoner in the fabric. He tugged at the zip, harshly at first, his need to punish you poking through his actions, but he had to refrain from that for the time-being. More slowly, he began to pull the zip down your body. “I think it only fitting that you should be punished for your little games, don’t you agree?” His eyes flickered back up to yours coolly, almost challenging you to disagree.
The fabric of your dress grew loose on your body, the straps beginning to slide along the slope of your shoulders. You glanced up at him in silence, not wanting to admit the words, but the neediness on your expression told him that you were all game for your punishment—not that it ever was something unpleasant. Coriolanus was always generous when it came to putting you in your place.
“Glad we’re on the same page, dove,” he said, the dress releasing your body at last. It pooled onto the floor around your heels, leaving you barren save for the bra suffocating your breasts. He glanced down at your lower half, faintly surprised to find that you’d neglected the courtesy of wearing any underwear.
"Was this supposed to be an apology?" He asked, glancing back at you through a charming smirk.
A smile broke through onto your lips. "I thought it'd make undressing me quicker," you replied, lowering yourself to remove the heels from your feet. You were glad to be free of that hell. They made your calves look good, but they were torture on your feet.
"Well, aren't you considerate?" Coriolanus responded, then paused before adding. "So you knew how this night would end, with you and I nothing but a sexual amalgamation?”
"It was more of a hope,” you replied as you straightened yourself up.
Coriolanus' constraint gave in at your insinuations, his hand moving to caress your cheek, his eyes lowering to your perfect lips that he craved to taste in that very moment. You reached up to deliver the unspoken need onto his lips, but he kept you grounded with a hand around your collarbone. "You're not kissing me with those lips," he told you. “Not after that prick has wiped his saliva all over you.”
His hand left your body to reach into his blazer pockets. He pulled out a key, his hand snaking around your waist to slip the key into the door hole. His face was intentionally leaned close to yours, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concentration as he struggled to unlock the door, and because he could smell the man’s cologne clinging desperately to your skin. He’d need to take care of that before the evening could proceed, it was a detrimental hinderance to his cock. At last, the doors gave in with a loud click, and he pulled the key from the lock.
He leaned back with a curt beckoning of his chin. "After you,” he said, placing the key back into his blazer, his eyes not once neglecting yours.
You gave him a long stare, almost daring to be disobedient before you clearly thought better of it. You bent over to collect your dress and your shoes before turning to push the doors open. Coriolanus dropped his attention to your ass, which practically begged for his approval as it bounced with your every step. He entered inside after you, closing the doors behind him.
You ventured a few steps into the well-furnished living room of the suite and tossed your clothing onto the nearest sofa, your eyes trained on the glass walls that offered a breath-taking view of Panem. You’d always marvel over the cityscape as if it was your first time seeing it, but in all honesty, it was the fact that the lights of Panem fashioned a different colour each night, and it always seemed to illuminate new buildings and views that you’d never noticed before.
Coriolanus watched you, your hand absentmindedly reaching to hold your elbow as you admired the view—one that you’d already seen countless times before, he thought. He wondered whether you were contemplating your circumstances in this instant, as if the reality of what you’d done had finally started to sink in, and what the consequences to follow would be. He could read you fairly well, but there were still moments that your thoughts were lost on him.
“Are you scared?” He asked, his voice echoing throughout the empty space.
You turned to face him, your hands falling to your side. The lighting was dim, but the amusement etched onto your features were clear. “Scared? I didn’t survive the games only to be scared of you, Coriolanus Snow. Besides, this is hardly our first rodeo. I can’t imagine there’s much more surprises you could spring on me.”
Coriolanus cocked his eyebrows, smiling at those words. He appreciated your effortless wit. Most of Panem’s ladies were annoyingly submissive in their conversation, saying only what they thought he wanted to hear, as though it’d make them more desirable to him. You didn’t need to be told what to say, you just said it, and he was glad for it. Control could be exhausting, especially when he strove to maintain it in almost every aspect of his life. It was refreshing to know that he didn’t have to control your personality, too.
“Good,” he said, inching closer until he could reach out a hand to grab your arm. He turned you around forcefully, cool fingers teasingly tracing the skin of your shoulder as he made his way down to the clasp of your bra. He undid the hook, freeing your breasts from the pretty white lace, before tossing it onto the sofa beside your other discarded items. He turned you back to him, his eyes instantly lowering to the hardened nipples crowning your soft breasts. “Somebody’s eager,” He jested, his voice a soft rumble as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Did you want something from me?”
“You know I always do, Coryo,” you responded, taking your lower lip into a subtle bite.
Coriolanus’s eyes hardened at that nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded. That version of himself had died a long time ago.
Your eyebrows cocked at his tone, your lips momentarily pursed before you asked, “should I call you Mr. Snow instead?”
“Just Coriolanus,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to remove his crimson blazer. Your eyes were stalking his every move. He could tell that you wanted nothing more than to reach out to what little clothing remained on his body and tear it away mercilessly—that you wanted him to take you right here at this very instant. But he was faintly impressed at your patience as you decided against any reckless action, instead opting to wait for his next command.
He folded his blazer and draped it over his arm, his free hand beckoning for you to follow him to his bedroom. “Come on.”
Your eyes followed his footsteps, your disbelief keeping your feet glued to the ground. Coriolanus glanced over his shoulder when your footsteps didn’t commence behind him. Your reaction was justifiable. He’d never once once invited you into his room in all the months you’d lived with him. He knew that you were foolishly thinking that this moment marked an intimate milestone in your relationship, that this act was an attempt for him to show just how much you meant to him.
“Problem?” He asked.
You willed away the dumbfounded look on your face, offering a half-hearted no as you caught up to Coriolanus. As if the sentiment was fragile, you merely walked ahead of him in silence, afraid that one wrong word would revoke the invite.
He trailed behind you as you approached the door to his bedroom. You tossed a glance over your shoulder as you sought out confirmation in your actions. Coriolanus gave a small nod, an encouraging smirk poking through. You smiled back, turning your attention to opening the door. You slipped inside, your attention instantly flying to the furniture that occupied the space. It was modest, very limited to necessities.
The bed, needlessly big, was slightly undone, the comforters left untidy as though he’d just climbed out of bed and the covers half pulled from the pillows—a picture frozen in time. A plate and a mug was stacked onto the bedside table, the previous day’s clothes draped across the sofas near the windows. Your eyes were fixating every detail around the room, as though burning a mental picture into your mind as a souvenir for later.
Coriolanus moved to place his blazer beside his other clothes on the sofa. “Sorry for the mess,” he offered, moving to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t usually have the worry of entertaining guests.”
You turned to face him, your eyes lowering to his skilful fingers. “I like the mess,” you responded, making your way over to him. “It feels personal, seeing this side of you—allow me to.” You shooed his hands off the waistcoat, taking his place in undoing the buttons. You glanced up at him seductively, your eyes flickering down to his full lips.
He watched you undress him, slowly but surely, knowing that he could’ve done a much faster job. But he allowed you to take on the role, knowing that it made you feel important, that your body would show him just how thankful you were and how much these little details meant to you. Once you had unfastened the last button, you removed the waistcoat and admired his toned and broad physique, painfully concealed behind his white shirt.
Coriolanus glared at your wandering eyes, wondering whether you were trying to picture him naked. He’d never been fully undressed in all of their little rendezvous, it was something far too intimate for him. And there had only been a few occasions where he’d fucked you with his cock and not his fingers or his mouth. He’d found himself deriving the utmost pleasure when he got to solely focus on how you came undone for him, how powerful his every movement upon you really was.
When your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, he grabbed at your wrist. “Not yet,” he told you. “You still reek of him.” You frowned at his words, your hands falling to your sides in disappointment. “Come with me,” he said, moving past you toward the bathroom. “We’re going to take a little bath.”
Your interest peaked at his words. “We’re going to bath together?” You asked curiously as you followed after him.
“You’re going to bath,” Coriolanus corrected as he reached the large alcove bathtub. He leaned over to turn on the tap. “I’m going to watch.” His hand trailed the many soaps and balms that lined the rim of the bathtub. He’d made it a mission to collect every scented product he could manage once he got his hand on the money, simply because he could, and he liked smelling good.
“Sounds perverted,” you shot at him, crossing your arms as you watched him draw your bath.
He grabbed ahold of a rose-scented oil and began pouring it into the water. “You didn’t agree to live with me because of my normalcy,” he said distractedly. “But because you knew just how much my so called perversion had to offer your pathetic, little, touch-starved body.”
He tossed a glance at you over his shoulder, satisfied by the red gleam that had snuck onto your cheeks. He turned his attention back to the tub, reaching for a bottle of bubble bath. He began adding it to the water, a few droplets reaching up to stain his shirt.
“In any case,” Coriolanus continued. “It’s the least you could do for me after tonight’s shit-show.” He placed the bottle back against the wall, closing the tap once the water had reached an appropriate level. He unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, taking a few paces back. He jerked his head at you. “Go on,” he demanded.
You unfurled into a dramatic stretch, parading your breasts as you faced him. “Join me.”
He fixed you with an unwavering stare, not so keen to play into another one of your games. “Get in.”
With one last glare, you turned and dipped one leg into the bath, instantly pulling back with a hiss. Your head snapped to face him. “It’s too hot,” you protested.
Coriolanus moved to retrieve a chair from the corner of the bathroom, placing it a few inches from where you stood. He sat himself down, offering a mere shrug to your words. “Good observation.”
“I’m not going to burn myself bloody just so that you can get off,” you spat.
“Then let’s kill some time while we wait for the water to cool down,” he suggested, his eyes once again tracing over every inch of your exposed body with keen interest.
You looked open to his request. “What did you have in mind?”
Coriolanus’s eyes flickered back up to you. “Touch yourself,” he said earnestly. You paused at his words, suddenly looking self-conscious, before you hesitantly began to caress your breasts. He watched your fingers squeeze and grope at your skin, imagining that it were his own hands in their stead, only he’d be a lot less kind in his touch. Your fingers trailed teasing circles around your nipples, further hardened at your own toying and his intense observation.
“Lower,” he ordered, feeling frustrated at your lack of venturing into your lower extremities.
Your eyes glinted at him, a look that seemed to say greedy. Yes, he was. Who could blame him? He’d grown up starving for most days of the year, now he’d take as much as he wanted.
His eyes fixated the hand that lowered in a painfully slow motion across your stomach, reaching that sweet spot housed between your legs. As your fingers began to fondle with your clit, you threw your head back with a pitiful moan. He knew he could’ve extracted a louder sound. He almost felt obliged to take over, but he had to remind himself that you were undeserving of his touch, that you needed to be punished with the urge to feel him, yet be denied that pleasure.
A few minutes of your fondling had passed before your ministrations eventually became too overwhelming to maintain control over your body. You lowered yourself to the bathmat, your hand not once leaving your cunt. You spread your legs open, offering a broader view to Coriolanus. Your eyes were glazed over as you glanced at him. He tilted his head slightly in approval, feeling his own cock growing interested at his view of your pathetic situation.
“That’s good, sweetheart,” he praised, noting the way your eyes lowered to his pants. He parted his legs slightly to take the pressure off of his growing erection, eager to hide his arousal. He didn’t want you to notice just yet how much he was truly enjoying this. Your movements eventually became more erratic, incoherent sounds spewing from your lips.
“I need you, Coriolanus,” you managed to blabber out, your tired head resting onto the rim of the bathtub, eyes periodically fluttering closed as you alternated between consciousness and whatever universe of pleasure was found behind your eyes. “Please,” you begged.
“You’ll have me soon,” he said, “when I see it fit.”
“I’ve been good for you,” you protested breathlessly. “I’ve done everything you told me to.”
“You have a lot to atone for,” Coriolanus pointed out, his eyes lowering to where your hand had slowed its movements. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
You glanced at him past your tired lids, but you obliged nonetheless, adding a finger inside of your cunt to increase the pressure. He supposed it was fair, if he had refused to place his own fingers inside of you. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto lips as he watched a stream of white begin to trail from your opening, recalling how good you tasted. It was a shame, really, that it would go to waste onto the bathroom mat instead of onto his appreciative tongue. From the sound of your pathetic mewling and your ragged breathing, Coriolanus knew that you were growing close to your high. He didn’t intend for the fun to end just yet.
“I want you to continue until you feel like you’re going to cum,” he told you, though he wasn’t sure you’d heard him past you own noise. “And then I want you to stop just before that happens.”
“That’s mean, Coriolanus,” you managed to say.
“You haven’t seen mean yet, dove,” he said. “Now stop talking and focus.”
Your fingers picked up their pace with a newfound eagerness, the knot in your stomach growing inescapably larger, the urge to come undone becoming harder and harder to contain. Coriolanus wasn’t sure you’d obey his command at this point, you looked too far gone to resume control over your own actions. His eyes narrowed, watching closely at what fate you’d choose to follow. Much to his disappointment, you practiced constraint, your hips shooting up with anticipation, only to sink to the floor as you denied yourself the orgasm.
You glanced at Coriolanus past your teary lashes, a silent request for praise. He heeded your need, rising from his seat to crouch beside your slumped figure. He combed the loose hair from your face, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted your forehead.
“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured sweetly. He felt as though he could have choked on the banality of his words, but the soft look in your eyes as you gazed up at him made it worthwhile. He nodded to your hand, still resting on your cunt. “Show me how good you felt.”
You pulled your hand from its playground between your legs, creamy white webs entangled on your fingers. They pulled a string along your stomach as you lifted your fingers for Coriolanus to study.
“It almost looks like you don’t need my help,” he chuckled, his hand fastening around your wrist to bring your fingers to his lips. His blue eyes bore down into you as he took each of your fingers into his mouth. One by one, his tongue hungrily weaved around them, claiming your juices from your skin.
You gazed at him with a wild look ablaze in your eyes. “Don’t I deserve a taste?” You said. “After all, I did all the hard work. I deserve to taste the fruits of my labour.”
“You should be modest,” Coriolanus said once he removed your fingers from his mouth. “Nobody likes a brag.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you retorted lightly, your eyes glinting with exhaustion. “I like you.”
“Mhm,” he offered softly, placing your hand gently onto your chest. He reached his hand between your legs, an action that caused your thighs to stiffen around him. “Relax,” he cooed, pressing his palm into one of your thighs, encouraging you to open up to him.
“Sorry,” you said, easing off the defensiveness. “I’m sensitive down there at the moment.”
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, gazing at your fragile expression. Fuck, he could take you right here. His fingers moved with caution as they glided along the folds of your drenched cunt, gathering up your cum into untidy clumps. He followed a trail of arousal that had traveled down into the cleft of your ass, pressing a teasing finger into your asshole.
You gasped at the sudden invasion, and Coriolanus’s throat rumbled with a chuckle. He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You glanced at his slender fingers, not needing much convincing to take them into your mouth. You turned your attention to him as you began to suck at him suggestively, exaggerating your head bobbing as you made a point to cover the entire length of his fingers.
He watched you with a lopsided smirk, enjoying the whore-like behaviour you so willingly offered him. Now and again, he’d thrust his fingers a little too deep, more than what your throat could handle, which caused you to gag around him. Strings of your saliva had begun to slither down his exposed forearm, pleasantly warm on his skin. He imagined his cock in the stead of his fingers, enjoying the same warmth and wetness your mouth had to offer.
When you’d decidedly had enough of licking his fingers clean, you pulled your lips from him with a characteristic pop. Coriolanus reached that hand over the bathtub, dipping it into the water to feel its temperature. It had cooled down considerably, but it was still warm enough for a worthwhile soak. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers onto his shirt.
“The bath will get cold soon,” he told you. “Get in.”
“Is that all?” You asked disappointedly.
“Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in stock for you.” He straightened up and took a few paces back as you perked with new resolve and found your feet.
He backed up to reclaim his position on the chair, crossing his legs as he watched you. Your back was momentarily on him as you climbed into the bathtub, the water sloshing a welcome. You submerged yourself into the warmth almost instantly, a content groan reverberating in your throat. His eyes lowered to your hand, which had began to spread the foam of the bubble bath across your bare chest and breasts.
“The water’s so good,” you murmured.
“Don’t get too relaxed,” he warned.
“Why don’t you join me, Coriolanus,” you said, your eyes fluttered open as you moved to fold your arms onto the lip of bathtub. You rested your chin onto your arms, glancing at the erection he could no longer conceal. “I’ll take good care of your little cock, that should keep me on my toes.” Your expression beamed at your choice of words, deliberately chosen to get a rise out of him.
Coriolanus merely scoffed at your teasing. He had many things to prove, but the size of his cock was not one of them.
“You sure you could handle me, since you’re still so sensitive down there?” He asking mockingly. He leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to clench his chin, the other grabbing his elbow.
You tilted your head prettily to one side. “Only one way to find out,” you murmured, leaning back against the wall of the tub as you kicked your foot out and onto the edge. Water splashed partially onto the bathmat, but most had been caught by the bare floor.
Coriolanus lowered his eyes to the puddle. “You’re making quite a mess for someone who’s been in here for less than half an hour.”
“Give me an hour and you’ll see just how much of a mess I can make,” you challenged.
He lifted his chin to face you, his eyes narrowing the slightest. This side of you was something he’d never experienced before; you were a lot more daring, undoubtedly brought on by the importance you felt at being allowed the opportunity to bathe in his bathroom and in his company. He’d like to test just how long you could keep up this illusion of bravery, and how quickly you’d drop it when he had you sprawled onto his fingers.
“Come here, then,” he said, uncrossing his legs and spreading it as an invitation for your thighs.
Your eyes snuck a peak at his hard on before you broke away from your slutty pose and climbed from the warmth of the tub. You took a few steps toward Coriolanus, water and soap slithering down the curves of your body and onto the floor.
You stopped short of his legs. “You’re sure?” You asked, eyes making a point of the shirt and pants he still wore. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a little less on?”
Coriolanus grunted from a place of impatience, reaching out his hand to grab at your wrist. He pulled you into his lap, rough hands guiding your hips to comfortably straddle his clothed thighs. The soapy water coating your body began to bleed into his clothes, his pants the most affected, but he could hardly be arsed in this moment. He just needed to feel you, needed to use you. His fingers gripped at your thighs, his heavenly blue eyes boring down onto your strained expression as he began to forcibly guide your bare cunt over his bulge.
Coriolanus’s movements set a generous pace, endorphins bolting through your core each time his bulge struck your sensitive clit. The texture of his pants was harsh on your skin, creating a friction that seemed to generate copious amounts of heat—screw sticks and stones, this method of fucking could have started all the fires in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lower half instinctively beginning to cooperate as you rocked back and fourth in sync with his guidance.
Your head came to rest in the chiselled crook of his neck, his earthy fragrance fucking heaven-sent on your senses, further engulfing you in bliss. His throat vibrated against your ear with strained moans, they came as subtle grunts that prompted his hands to speed up the pace. He was so eager to feel you, to settle his drawn-out erection. You winced as his fingers burrowed into the skin of your thighs. He’d neglected all caution in your handling, his need to control your movements overpowering what slither of consideration he’d held for your comfort.
It didn’t take long for the stinging sensation to blend with your pleasure, slurred moans pouring from your lips as you felt cum begin to leak from your entrance. It lubricated the fabric of Coriolanus’s pants, offering some relief from the coarse material. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your face into his shirt, eager to muffle the mewls of pleasure you seemed to have zero control over. His chest rumbled with a breathy fuck, and you felt his body momentarily convulse with the overwhelming feelings your bodies shared.
You turned your head, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, drinking in the view of his adam’s apple, so prominent and manly. It bobbed as Coriolanus swallowed a moan. You brought your furthest hand forward to hook the side of his neck, pulling him against your lips. He didn’t resist, it’s almost as though he was too focused on his own work to pay attention to your own dealings. You littered sloppy kisses all across his neck, placing extra emphasis around his adam’s apple. You kissed all around the bulge before giving into your thoughts and dragging your tongue over it, leaving a sloppy trail in your wake.
The warmth and wetness of your tongue on his throat made Coriolanus release an unexpected groan, a hand leaving your hips to wrap around your throat. You let slip a chuckle at his action, and he held you out in front of him, his cold eyes glaring into yours as he decided to brutalise his movements. You moaned loudly, the sound strained as you forced it past his suffocating hold on your neck.
“Coriolanus,” you choked out breathlessly, your hands sliding along his broad shoulders. “I need you inside of me.”
“You’ve waited this long,” Coriolanus muttered. “You can wait a little longer.” His hold on your throat grew tighter, your vision starting to blur behind a mixture of fresh tears and your compromised oxygen.
He watched your eyes flutter closed and your teeth clench as you inched closer and closer to your edge, your nails digging through his shirt and into his shoulders, steading yourself against his aggression. His singular hand on your hip began to cramp at his incessant groping and steering, but he was beginning to feel his own orgasm approaching, and that was motivation enough to push through—that, and your whorish desperation.
He released his grip on your neck, the air returning to your lungs as a cough and a splutter. He hooked the nape of your neck and pulled you into the comfort of his shoulder, urging you to rest your tired head there as he finished you both off. With both hands once again firm on your hips, he picked up the pace. He rested his chin onto the crown of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed the scent of your conditioner to swallow his senses.
With each movement, he brought you down harder onto his cock, craving rougher strokes. The squelching of the cum coating your folds and spreading along his pants was music to his ears, and he gritted his teeth to bite back his ragged breathing so that he could continue to hear the way he’d transformed your cunt. He could feel his own pre-cum trickling from his tip, the warmth spreading along his shaft by the generosity of your wet folds. Fucking hell did he yearn to be inside of you, almost as much as you craved him, but he had to be stronger than his own desires.
It didn’t take long before every nerve tracing the length of his cock began to fire rapid impulses, the prolonged stimulation proving to be too overbearing. His lips parted with strained breaths, the black abyss behind his eyes beginning to birth a cosmos of anticipatory stars. The image built and built until he thrust you one last violent time along his cock, his hips rocking up into you, delivering just the right ounce of pressure before white engulfed his vision.
His grip on your hips loosened, his ears buzzing with the aftermath of his high. He hadn’t even realised that you’d come undone before he had, your whimpers and vulgar pleas lost in his concentration. The only evidence of your orgasm was the new patch of wetness that had marked his pants, a generous mixture of squirt and cum.
Your breathless voice sounded at his ear as you moved your head from under his chin. “I want to feel like that all the time.”
“That can be arranged, dove,” he chuckled hoarsely.
You felt his hand leave your hip, the skin there instantly growing cool. He dragged his fingers repeatedly along the wisps of your hair. It was as though he were petting a dog, only his touch was a lot gentler and more intimate. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, your lips parting with a content sigh as you waited for the ecstasy of your orgasm to dissolve. You rested your chin on his shoulder, listening to the calm of his breathing, focusing on his hand caressing your hair.
You pulled back to glance at him, his eyes questioning as he returned your stare. Your attention moved to his lips, they looked so soft and plump, not nearly red enough. You’d been robbed of the opportunity to nibble on them, to contort them between your own lips, to taste the wine he’d downed at the party. You didn’t think you’d be properly satisfied until you got your wish. Did that make you ungrateful?
Coriolanus offered a faint smirk, your thoughts loud and clear. How selfish of him, he’d forgotten to kiss you during your little ride. Not a train-smash, he had the entire night to make up for that. His hand on your hair tightened there, forcing you into his vicinity. You wanted to protest at the hairs pulling at your scalp, but you hadn’t gotten the chance, not when his lips silenced yours in a hungry tumble.
He didn’t kiss you as often as you would’ve liked, but when he did, it was always imbued with passion, his movements erratic like he’d been starving and you were the first source of food he’d encountered in days. You got lost in the movement of his lips, the pace so fast that you couldn’t properly match it, though not for lack of trying. You allowed yourself to be swept up in his kiss, accepting that he was in control.
Coriolanus moved his hands to grab ahold of your breasts, his attention marvellously divided between fondling them and tracing his tongue along the inside of your mouth. You moaned into him, the sound muffled and lost to your entanglement. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, offering a sharp nip that caused you to wince in surprise. You felt his lips broaden in a smug smile, his hands neglecting your breasts and trailing a seductive path down your waist to deliver a crisp spank to your ass.
The skin stung where he’d struck you, but he was so quick to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing. The curves of your ass fit so perfectly into his palms. He pulled his lips from yours, not sparing even an instant for you to process his movements before his sharp nose found sanctuary in your cleavage. He littered kisses there before moving to plant a trail around the circumference of your breasts.
“Coriolanus,” you moaned, your head lolling back.
He hummed against your skin, a halfhearted acknowledgement. His hand found its way between your thighs, his middle finger sliding between your labia where beads of your brand new arousal waited to greet him. He slathered his fingers in your juice, lubricating the skin before he slid his finger into your entrance.
Your entire composure collapsed at that, the built up suspense of needing him inside you satisfied at last. Your entrance clamped around him at first, the sensation always forgotten with how few and far apart these glorious moments were spread, but within a fraction of a second, you melted onto his finger.
You nibbled at your lower lip, the bite deepening as Coriolanus’s teeth found your nipple. He alternated between tugging at your hardened buds and swirling his tongue around and all over it, mischievously marking steaks of saliva along your skin. A few seconds later, his ring and index finger joined the party within you.
Your grip on his shoulders lowered down his back, eagerly clawing at the hard and chiselled muscles, but his damned shirt got in the way. You pulled back, Coriolanus’ lips robbed of your breasts. He glanced at you, his fingers continuing their thrusts. Your hands flew to tug at the buttons of his shirt. The first few you’d managed to undo, but you had finite patience for the others, resorting to an aggressive tug that split the buttons from the fabric.
“Are you going to pay for that?” Coriolanus jested lightly.
“I’m sure there’s plenty more shirts where that one came from,” you said hastily, yanking the sleeves down his broad shoulders.
You instantly dove in to kiss at his chest. He’d never been excessively muscled, but he was still strong and toned, his frame broad and absolutely mouth-watering to gaze upon. Your hands wandered along his chest, sliding along his shoulders and down his arms. You attempted to tug his shirt all the way off, Coriolanus aiding your motion as he momentarily pulled his fingers from inside you.
He rolled his shoulders and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. You glanced at his torso, now completely exposed to you. You couldn’t stifle the smile on your lips, thinking that he looked a lot like a male stripper—bare-chested yet still clothed from the waist down, presenting himself on a chair. All he was missing was a sexy dance of some sort.
Coriolanus frowned at your gawking. “What’s on that mind of yours?”
You pursed your lips. “Nothing,” you answered, placing a kiss on his lips. You moved to murmur in his ear, “now If it’s not too much to ask, would you kindly stick your fingers back inside of me?”
When you withdrew to look at him, Coriolanus wore a wicked smirk. “What a slutty thing to say.” His fingers returned to your cunt, but instead of easing his way inside, he opted for his whole hand at once.
You didn’t know whether you were more shocked at his gesture, or the way your cunt had easily welcomed him. His movements were considerably less cautious than before, but you didn’t care about that now, only that he was finally inside of you. You let out a lengthy moan, so eager to verbalise your appreciation. Your hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them together as you tilted your head back.
You closed your eyes and focused on his hand inside you, how each thrust grew deeper and closer to your sweet spot. It’s as though he’d already mapped out your insides, his fingers knowing exactly which way to wander. Gods, you truly didn’t know whether you or Coriolanus enjoyed this more. He kept up a regular pace for a while, and you’d quickly grown impatient and needy for his brutality.
“Faster,” you complained.
Coriolanus slowed his movements, coming to a complete stop. He wholly expected the miserable look on your face as your head snapped down to face him. How could he allow you to think that he was here to serve you, as opposed to you serving him. He wasn’t just going to hand you what you wanted, life certainly hadn’t been that generous with him. No, you’d have to work for it.
“Okay, we can go faster,” he said, cocking his head slightly. You regained a spark at those words, but it quickly blew out at what came next. “But you’ll do it yourself, since you’re unsatisfied with what I’m giving you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—“ you attempted to protest, but Coriolanus cut you off with free his index finger pressing against your lips, his lips fashioned in a hush.
“No talking,” he murmured. “Just get to work.” He beckoned down to your cunt, his hand motionless inside of you.
Devastated at having to do the work yourself, you crossed your arms around his neck, your expression adorably resentful as you lifted your hips and began to ride him. Coriolanus lowered his free hand to rest at your hip, his attention wandering to your breasts. He couldn’t have ignored them even if he tried, not when they were bouncing inches from his face and calling out for attention. Your moans quickly commenced, your hips already starting to tremble with your next orgasm. You tossed your head back, your movements becoming uncoordinated, like your body had already started to give up.
Coriolanus felt your walls begin to clench around his hand, glancing up to glimpse your face. “Look at me,” he called to you. Your head lowered to face him at once, your eyelids drooping. “Are you going to cum?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, followed by a strewn out moan.
Good, he thought. His hand on your hip began to press against your movements, interrupting the pace you’d managed to get going. Your eyes widened as your orgasm retracted into a dissatisfying gasp, the high that had been building instantly collapsed at your sudden lack of movement.
“Coriolanus,” you snapped, your tone coming across as a whine. You’d become frustrated with his teasing, and your body shared the sentiment. Your clit ached now, exhausted tremors seizing every muscle of your body. “You’re being a dick!”
“No,” he countered, pulling his hand from your entrance. He looked condescending as his eyes flickered across you face. “I’m punishing you, just like I promised. You’re getting exactly what you deserve, but you’re spoiled and used to getting your way.”
You didn’t have anything to retort, so you glared at him in silence, ignoring the hurt that his words had inflicted upon you.
“Don’t pout,” he murmured, wiping his wet hand along your thigh.
Then, without warning, he hoisted you up at the thighs and manoeuvred you bridal-style from the bathroom towards the bedroom. He lowered you onto the undone comforters of his bed, leaning down with you to place a swift kiss on your furrowed brows. He straightened up at the foot of the bed, his hands reaching for your calves.
“You want to cum?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around your legs to pull you down the bed and closer to where he stood. “I’ll make you cum, over and over again.” That was a promise.
Your lips parted with shock, words scattering from your tongue as his hands travelled over yours knees and grabbed at your thighs. He pried your legs apart, exposing your cunt to him. The last view you captured of him was the way his eyes traced your exposed lower half, a barely noticeable smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. Then, his head dipped into you, his tongue flat and rough on your folds.
You threw your head back into the sheets, your fingers instantly curling into the material as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from getting carried away into another universe. Coriolanus was conscious to strike his nose against your tender clit every so often, clearly enjoying the way it sent a jerk through your body. It was like his own personal control-switch to play with. You were too exhausted to limit the noises that you produced for him, so everything came out a loud and blabbering mess. You didn’t ever want to stop being touched this way.
Coriolanus was a clean man. He liked to keep his hair tamed, his jaw void of any developing beard that he felt would deface his appearance. But it had to have been a week since his last shave, you thought. You could feel the faint stubble poking through, grazing your intimate area as he ravished you below. It was the perfect addition to your arousal, adding just enough noise to push you into overstimulation.
You fought the urge to lift your lower half from the sheets, to greedily claim a deeper thrust of his tongue. He wouldn’t take kindly to that, and you didn’t think you had the capacity to endure any more teasing. Instead, you opened your thighs even wider, your hands releasing the comforter to grip at your breasts.
Coriolanus approved of your behaviour, his praise coming in the form of his tongue up your entrance. You let slip a breathy gasp, your jaw clenching at the lightning that seemed to obscure your vision.
“Fuck, Coriolanus,” you drawled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Please—let me cum!”
He hummed against your clit, the vibrations serving as the fucking icing on top of this sex-themed cake. You core knotted, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, the pressure building and building and threatening to spill over as Coriolanus’ tongue picked up the pace. He twirled your clit around, his fingers pinching at your thighs, and just like that, your body released all the tension of the evening.
Your chest bobbed up and down with heavy breathing, not feeling as though you could bear to open your eyes. It’s only when you felt Coriolanus’ warmth withdraw from your thighs that you lifted your head to glance up at him. He straightened up and met your gaze with an impressed look, his perfect lips offering a smile—a genuine smile. The sight set off butterflies in your stomach. He was proud of you and your performance.
“You did well, dove,” he praised.
You beamed at his compliment, words not easily extracted from him. The sheen on his jaw caught your attention, your heart jolting with shame to see him absolutely doused in your juice. It trailed well down his neck and onto his chest, making a point to follow the natural contours of his pecs.
“I’m sorry—“ a hand flew to your mouth, hardly believing that you’d produced a mess of that magnitude.
“Sorry?” Coriolanus mocked, his perfect teeth flashing in a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s a compliment. You show your appreciation like a real woman, just the way I like it.”
You watched as his hands lowered to his red trousers, his fingers moving to undo the button. You glanced back at him in alarm.
“You didn’t think we were done just yet?” He asked, his smile turning wicked as he unzipped his trousers and pulled it down. “I edged you twice,” he explained. “And I’d like to think I’m a fair man. So,” he paused and lowered his underwear, which freed his erection. “I owe you another good time.”
He stepped out from the last of his clothing, towering over your body as he inched his way toward you. “I won’t lie, though,” he murmured once he’d reached your ear. “I’m doing this mostly for me. I think I’ve waited long enough to feel you, really feel you.”
You glanced up at him, your eyes large and pleading like a pathetic mutt begging for scraps. “I don’t think I can take any more, Coriolanus.”
“Did it feel good, what you did just now?”
“It felt like heaven,” you told him softly.
“Then this time will feel like being completely reborn,” Coriolanus insisted, his hand relocating hair from your sticky face. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll push through because this is your punishment, and punishment is not always meant to be enjoyable.”
You glanced off to the side, hating how much the cold look in his eyes stirred something inside of you.
Coriolanus found satisfaction in the way his words kept you silent. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him, his thumb pressing into your lower lip before he planted a hollow kiss in its stead. He placed his forearm beside your head, leaning onto that side as his other hand reached down for his cock. He gave a lazy pump across his hard length, a pathetic attempt at spreading his pre-cum. He didn’t need to do any better, not when your drenched cunt offered enough lubrication for him to enter without a struggle.
And it did, without a single hitch, as he pushed himself inside of you. Your soft gasp sounded in his ear, his attention still trained below. Once he was sure he was properly inside of you, he turned his head up and placed his arm on the other side of your head. You felt so warm and welcoming, definitely a lot more relaxed than the previous times he’d stuck his cock inside of you.
He began to thrust, not having much patience to start slow and gradually build up the pressure. This entire evening had been leading up to this moment, the opportunity for him to be in this exact position. He’d spent all of his patience, now he just needed to finish what he’d set out to do. He was pleased to feel your hands snake beneath his arms and take up a hold on his back, that is until your nails suddenly sunk into his skin.
He let out pained moan, his gaze growing fierce at the satisfaction on your face. Two could play that game. He withdrew his length a far way out, his tip almost slipping from your entrance entirely, before he rammed himself back inside with an animalistic thrust. His tip collided with your g-spot, a harsh and sudden greeting to the sensitive area.
You let out a scream, your stomach lifting against him. Before you could process the shock, he rammed into you again, and again, and again. Each time, he returned with the same force, and not once did he fail to miss his target. Your nails in his skin continued to sink deeper, the both of you reduced to nothing more than grunting and gasping.
The bed creaked with every movement, the room echoing with the raw percussion of your skin-on-skin contact. Coriolanus bucked into you with such aggression that he began to moan with every sway of his hips. His hands, trapping your head on either side, slipped behind your head to grip at your hair. He yanked, opening up your neck to him. You moaned as his lips buried against your skin, the tip of his nose flattening into you as his teeth sought out your skin.
His movements became jerky, his teeth gritted as he grunted against your neck. You slipped a hand from his back to bury it into his hair, fastening your fingers around his blond wisps that had turned curly from the sweat of his activity.
“I’m going to cum,” he breathed into your neck, his hand flying to one of your thighs. He pulled it up to wrap around his lower half, his thrusts growing violently needy. “Fuck,” he spat, then called your name desperately. You felt too good, especially now that your walls seemed to clench around him—he knew that you were close, too.
Your second orgasm arrived, the hot wetness pooling around his length. He couldn’t maintain his control anymore. At last, he gave himself over to his pleasure, his movements becoming sluggish as he felt his release inside of you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, not until he felt himself empty every last drop inside of you.
Coriolanus collapsed beside you, his hand finding your cheek and pulling your head against his chest. For many minutes, nobody spoke, each one struggling to regain their breath. His other hand held your lower body against him, keeping his cock secure inside of you. He could feel your mingled juices leaking along his thigh and onto the sheets, a mess he didn’t mind right now.
You burrowed into Coriolanus’ arm, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say after an ordeal like this. Tonight had been his most brutal fuck thus far.
Your body ached everywhere, and you weren’t sure your swollen clit would ever forgive you for what you’d brought upon it. You supposed it served you right for trying to make him jealous by flirting with another man. You’d never stupidly test his limits that way again, that was for sure. You two laid in comfortable silence, riding out the last of your highs.
“Coriolanus,” you called to him softly, your fingers playing with his. “Do you love me?”
Coriolanus tilted his head down to you, his eyes widening at the sudden question. His lips parted to say something, but he quickly bit on his tongue. It was clear that your need for his attention had grown into something more profound, that you’d started to care about him in more than just what he had to offer your body. He turned his gaze up to the roof. “My position doesn’t permit me the time to love,” he answered carefully.
Your hair shuffled against his arm as you sat yourself up to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He turned his gaze back onto you, calling your name softly. “I have goals to achieve in this world. It leaves little time for relationships.”
Your eyes held disappointment. “Then what’s the point of all of this?”
“The point,” Coriolanus said, taking your hand into his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles across your skin. “Is that we keep each other company, offer a comfort that others couldn’t gift us even if they tried. We satisfy each other in ways that only we know how to.”
“So I’m just a source of entertainment to you?” You snapped, attempting to pull your hand from his, but his grasp on you tightened.
“Am I anything different to you?” He asked, his tone level, his cool eyes challenging. “Don’t mount a high horse, not when you entered this knowing exactly what you were in for. I take care of you and I make you feel good—that’s plenty more than you would’ve gotten back in the district and in any other location in the Capitol, for that matter. Would you rather go back to your district, back to a cold bed and an empty stomach with nobody to rely on? Maybe you’d rather I put you on the market for as some Capitol slut looking for her next sponsor. I can make that happen—“
“No!” You interrupted, your hard eyes thawing with a look of horror, like you’d recalled all the terrible memories of your life in the district. It was far from pleasant, a past you’d have liked to forget for good. You had nobody, nothing to return to.
As for the Capitol, you knew that there were infinite weirdos and perverts that would marvel at the opportunity to get their hands on a hunger games victor, especially one that had been branded by Coriolanus Snow more than once. You could only imagine what sort of prize that made you, a collectible to be displayed. The thought made your stomach turn.
“I don’t want that,” you said, your head lowering in defeat. “I just want you.”
Coriolanus’s eyes raked across your figure, so slumped in submission and hopelessness. He realised then just how much he’d broken you, reshaped you into a lapdog that would only eat directly out of his hand. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you, too. Only you.” His free hand moved to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. “And maybe. . . you could teach me how to love.”
Your eyes widened at those words, the hand clasped in his going stiff. He tugged at you, pulling you into him. Your head found its way nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his chin moving to rest atop your head. He continued to play with your fingers, his other arm cushioning your neck and holding you against him. He felt your breathing slow into an easy sleep, your warm breath flushing against his chest. He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply at the sweet scent radiating from your hair. He allowed it to lull him to sleep, mulling over your interaction.
He’d known the truth for years already—that his heart bore no capacity for love. It had saddened him, at first, made him feel as though he’d been formed wrong in the womb. His father had loved his mother enough to bring him into this world—his cousin, Tigris, had loved him, too, to the point where she’d have sacrificed everything to ensure that he’d survived the war. Sejanus, too, had loved him like a brother, trusted him with all that he was, and it had ultimately killed him.
All his life, Coriolanus had been cradled with love, but he’d been forever cursed with the inability to return it. It had taken him years to accept it, until one day, everything had clicked into place.
Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love, not when the world had become a disastrous mess in need of order, in need of somebody to bring it to that stage. He knew then that he could offer the order that Panem needed. Peace came at the cost of blood, and blood came at the cost of strength. Strength meant that love had no place and no say in the hard decisions to be made, for its love that made you vulnerable, and vulnerability was a weakness. He didn’t bear that weakness, and he never would.
As for you? Well, you were somewhat of a complicated matter as of now. When it came down to it—the decision between you and his destiny, he’d choose destiny without a doubt. But for now, he’d keep you close. He’d shower you with attention, spoil you with his touch, offer you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. And once you’ve lost all worth to him, he’d discard of you.
Coriolanus knew that his path was one headed straight for the top, to claim the title of president of Panem. All that he’d done to get here, everything that he’d achieved up until now, it was all just the beginning. He was glad now—that he could not find it in himself to love anyone. It left him free of any liabilities, gave his enemies not even a fraction of power to hurt him.
For it’s the things we love most that destroy us.
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You MUST know I had to include that iconic line
Anyways, I’m sincerely sorry that this fic is like 15k words. I always tell myself to keep it simple but I’ve literally got no say over what happens once my fingers start typing away. I hope you all have enjoyed this read. I’m not TOO sure how I feel about it, but I think I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve proof-read it so much that I honestly can’t stand it anymore.
This is my first every coryo fic and it was incredibly daunting to write, considering that he is such a complex character to portray and because I unintentionally resorted to flowing between his and the reader’s perspective, which I usually hate, but shit happens. I’ve never read the books (I am getting them for my birthday yay) so it was difficult to get inside of his mind given that I’ve never trod there before. In any case, I hope that I did his character justice in this blabbering mess, even if I did add my own sadistic twist lmao.
MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVELIES🎄
Your comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you!! ~
I take requests (so long as I’m comfortable writing it) <3
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635 notes · View notes
huexuri · 2 months
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⊹ sit. - [ dom!soobin x fem!reader ]
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NSFW, MDNI!!
warnings: bf!binnie, humping, in front of a mirror, choking kink, everything is just slightly slow and cute, praise, pet names, slight degrading n mocking
note: was i really going to write smut about soob because of these pics? yeah. + i was so wet writing this istg
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you're in soobin's room, legs up as you slump in his gaming chair. your laptop is currently repairing, so about a thousand powerpoint tabs are open on his pc, and your hand is busy clicking and typing since you're rushing a presentation that's due tomorrow.
though,, you can't seem to focus — since soobin came back from work, he's exhausted and all, and he looks so good like that. panting as his wet hair frames his face just perfectly with every step he takes. he's manspreading on the edge of his bed, coat falling off his shoulders on one side, gripping his bedsheets so sensually with his mouth parted.. and he's clicking pictures. he's probably going to post those pictures to instagram, you assume. a slight wave of jealousy pours through your body — the fact that others, millions of people get to share him, get to see him when he's looking all pretty and slutty.
"that's not fair," you mutter your thoughts out loud — you hadn't realized you're completely facing him now, no more towards the computer screen and now towards the man on his bed across the room.
soobin's head snipes straight at you.
"what's not fair?" soobin puts his phone down, looking at you as you rub your temples.
"oh?? uhm.. uh.." you try to make up an excuse, as if you weren't just admiring him, jealous that people would be looking at your man like he's theirs.
"what?" his head tilted in confusion.
"no, just.. the projects hard,, is all." you turn back to the bright computer screen and try your best to focus.
"mm, okay." soobin picked up his phone again, now looking even more slutty and sexy, shoulders slanting and leaning against his supporting arm. you have no idea if he's doing this on purpose because you've caught yourself drooling over him again.. your body's no longer facing the screen but now at him, staring at his beauty as faint clicks of his camera go in one ear and come out the other.
"why're you staring, hm?" soobin calmly asked as he'd noticed you daydreaming his direction.
"it's unfair, soobin.." you mutter hesitantly. your eyes are looking the opposite direction — refusing to make eye contact with him.
"what's unfair, love??" soobin finally puts his phone down for good and places it onto his bedside table. he waits for an answer.
"millions of people get to see you like," your arms gesture the shape of his body — eyeing him with a knowing look, hoping he'd understand what you mean, "like, you know?? that??"
"huhhhh??" soobin chuckles. you can't tell if he's honestly confused.
"you're taking pictures of yourself looking so slutty like that.. only i can see you like that, you know? so i'm just.. jealous." you avoid his gaze again, your head low as you mumble the last sentence.
"mmm... mkay." soobin says in an understanding tone.
there's an awkward silence that fills the room not long after, as you hesitantly turn back to the computer as if you never had that conversation with him.
"cmere," soobin breaks the silence.
you take your headset off as you walk up to him — somewhat expecting him to be upset that you're so sensitive.
soobin pats his thighs while looking up at you. you look at him as your eyebrows furrow in puzzlement.
"sit."
"h...huh??" you reply.
"sit, baby." he pats his thighs once again, and only then you realize the growing tent beneath his jeans.
you waste no time sitting onto him, your back arching in the process. his bulge really feels like it's going to burst out of his pants at his point. you're wearing nothing but silky pajama shorts that ride up your thighs when you're on his lap. you can see yourself in the mirror in front of you.
"fucking hell, y/n.." soobin mutters. his large hands stroke your thighs gently as he points towards the mirror, his head in the crook of your neck.
"see that girl? that's my girl." soobin whispers in your ear, and you slightly chuckle.
"maybe other people get to see me like this, but only she gets to be on my lap and ride me." soobin turns his head towards you with a knowing smirk.
you smile back at him. "okay." you reply to him, with much more confidence than you had earlier.
his hands travel from your thighs and up your shirt where you're wearing nothing under. he lays sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline and suck on your neck as he licks his way back up to your pretty lips — his plump lips cushioning yours.
"mmmh," you moan into the kiss as his cold fingers flick your hard nipples.
soobin's hands leave your breasts and holds onto your hips as he looks to the mirror. he controls your hips to rock front and back on his hard-on and you try your best not to moan.
once you've picked up your comfortable pace, you're humping him yourself and a wet spot grows on the both of your pants. soobin's hands lead themselves around your body — one at your waist and one at your neck. he holds you against him by your throat.
"fuck, you look so sexy like this." soobin smiles at the sight of the reflection infront of the both of you.
his hand still on your throat, he lifts up a finger and digs his way into your lips. you're sucking on his finger while looking at yourself. your tongue lewdly sticking out as the corner of your eyelids glow a rosy red.
"what a whore you look like." soobin chuckled. he looks at you with so much desire, licking his lips as you swirl your tongue around his long index finger, eyes can't help but roll back at the pleasure of his hard-on pressing against the sensitivity of your clit.
"fuck, soob— ah—" your breath staggers; your hips stutter,
"shit shit shiiiit... mmhh.." you whisper as you try not to clench your teeth, still with his finger playing with your tongue.
"cumming?" soobin coos.
"c-cu-cumming, soobin, ngh—" your head throws back onto his shoulder and your back arches as you feel yourself reach your high.
"mm, but i'm not done yet~" soobin mocked, looking at your already fucked out face.
"only humping me and you came already? awh, pathetic.. but i'm gonna have to go out of my way to prove i only have eyes for you, isn't that right?"
you can't back out now, can you?
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596 notes · View notes
tanniefm · 9 months
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all mine | jjk (m)
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summary - after a heated argument in the car, jungkook makes sure to set you straight in the only way he knows how.
pairing - jungkook x (f) reader
genre - smut/minor angst, established relationship
word count - 1.5k
song inspo - all mine by brent faiyaz (but also seven cause FUCKKKKKKK)
warnings - jealousy and misunderstandings, lowkey sexual harassment (not from jk ofc), explicit language (especially calling kook out his name 🫣), angry car sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex (yes yes bad we know), creampie, reader says sorry while she gets fucked and jk like doesn’t care 😭, they love each other a lot still
a/n - heard the explicit ver of seven and my jaw dropped and pussy started throbbing and this is the result of that :)
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Jungkook is having the worst possible time right now. When he came home from the studio this evening, he fully expected to see you laid out on the couch watching some random show in those tiny little pajamas he likes. He’d forget all his stress and the minor headache he’s had for the past hour and squeeze, and kiss, and touch his pretty girl to his heart’s content. He did not account for the fact that you’d be slipping into a form-fitting dress and fussing over how long it would take to do your hair and makeup.
“Um…where are you going?” he asks with a raised brow. “To the company dinner I told you about, remember? I told you about it before you left.” Jungkook does not in fact remember. How could he when his dick was stuffed down your throat and his eyes were rolled to the back of his head? But that was earlier, and this is now.
“Oh. Should I like, change or..” he trails off. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to go, he knows if he said as much you’d be completely fine with him staying home, the problem is he doesn’t want you to go either. You look over at him and see his cute little pout. You had a feeling he'd act this way, he had a tendency to be needy for your presence. You always found it endearing though, he was like a clingy puppy at times.
“Yes baby, wear something nice please, it's business casual but you know I can't pass up an opportunity to get dolled up,” you wink. He sighs wistfully and goes into your shared closet to find an acceptable dress shirt. Since your dress is gray he felt it was only right to wear a gray shirt with a black blazer overtop and some freshly pressed black slacks. You always call him corny when he tries to coordinate his outfits with yours but he knows you secretly love it. All he can do is hope the dinner is short so he can end the night with both of you fucked out in bed.
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He really tried to have a good time, honestly. You seemed to be making it very hard for him, however (both literally and figuratively). He couldn’t seem to stop staring at how good you looked in your dress, the way his hands itched to caress your curves drove him insane. And not to mention how everytime you’d politely laugh at whatever your coworker was saying, your boobs would jiggle like they were purposely trying to taunt him. If Jungkook had his way, he would’ve taken you in the restaurant bathroom by now, but he promised before you two left to be good. But you just make it so, so hard for him.
“_____? Oh my god, how are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” You turn to see the source of the familiar voice only to find an old friend from high school. “Chris? Holy shit I didn’t know you worked here! I’m good, it feels like we haven’t talked in forever,” you say cheerily. Jungkook slightly furrows his brow, Chris? You never mentioned a Chris before. As he watched the two of you catch up, he couldn’t help but notice the dark look in Chris’ eye. The way he seemed to look down at your breasts and ass more than he did your eyes. He knew exactly what that look meant, and he had no intention of watching him continue on with it. What especially irritated him was how naive you seemed to be to it. How could you not see that Chris wasn’t listening to a word you said? But the last straw was seeing him lean in for a hug and watching his hands slowly but surely make their way to your lower back, dangerously close to your ass.
“Ok that’s enough,” Jungkook said gruffly. He tugged you out of his arms and swiftly pulled you along out of the restaurant. “Jungkook what the fuck?” You were honestly surprised he was handling you like this, who the fuck does he think he is to be gripping on your arm like you’re some kind of bad child?
“Get in the car,” he says sternly. He must’ve lost his damn mind. “Excuse me?” Where was this coming from? Just a second ago he seemed fine, why is he acting so pissy all of a sudden? “What the fuck is your problem Jungkook? What are you so mad about?” you ask desperately. He says nothing as he opens the passenger’s door and waits for you to get in. You scoff and sit down, rolling your eyes while doing so. He always hated when you rolled your eyes at him, and frankly, it was pissing him off even more. But it’s ok. He knows how to get that little bratty attitude you had to go away.
He gets into his seat and takes a deep breath. “So. You and Chris seem close huh,” he says calmly. You raise a brow and look at him with utter confusion. “Uh no, not really. I haven’t talked to him since I graduated,” you reply. He gives a huff of laughter and shakes his head. “Then why exactly was he giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes baby?” Realistically he knows he’s being overdramatic. Chris was obviously being a creep and you just so happened to be the person he set his eyes on. But Jungkook’s been annoyed the whole night, and it seemed like this was the catalyst for his patience.
“How should I know? It’s not like I was purposely trying to seduce him!” you say exasperatedly. This is ridiculous! Does he think you wanted to make him jealous or something? For what? He was making zero sense right now, and all it was doing was making you angry.
You two went back and forth for what couldn’t be more than 10 minutes before saying something you knew you should’ve never said. “Fuck Jungkook, why are you being such a little bitch right now,” you exclaim, annoyed. His eyes widen slightly before his entire face hardens. You’ve never seen him look so serious. “Come here.” He leans his seat back slightly and looks at you expectantly. “Baby I-“ “I wasn’t asking,” he interrupts. You’re so fucked.
♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°
“Fuu-uu-uuuck m’ sorry! M’ so sorry!” you cry out into the steadily rocking car. Jungkook grips your hips tight as he pulls you up and down on his fat dick. “Sorry? Oh, but I thought I was a bitch? What happened baby?” he grunts. This is exactly what he needed. He's been pent up ever since he got home and he needed to pound into this tight cunt to relieve all this pent-up stress he’s been feeling.
“N-no! Didn’t mean it I promise daddy, promise!” Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. You’re so fucking close. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, angling his hips in just the right way to take you over the edge. His big, strong hands move down to your behind and grab each globe. He holds you still and pistons into you with an ever-growing speed.
“Don’t give this pussy to anyone else, do you hear me? he pants as he throws his head back in ecstasy. “Whose pussy is this?” he questions. “It’s yours, daddy! Yours yours yours, no one else’s!” you moan out. His moans start raising in pitch as he works his throbbing length in and out of you. Your wetness staining his dress pants and his seat. “Uhhhh fuckkk I’m almost there princess I’m right there hold on baby,” he babbles.
You bring your hands to the back of his neck to lift his head to yours, making sure those pretty doe eyes of his look directly into yours. “C'mon, daddy. Cum in your pussy,” you say seductively. His eyes shut tightly as he lets out a loud whine. His hips still and press into you as deep as your walls will allow him as he paints them white. Feeling his warmth overflow from inside of you triggers your orgasm right away, you tuck your head into his neck as you sob and shake.
Jungkook wraps his arms around you and kisses your head repeatedly as you both breathe heavily and try to bring yourselves down from the intense moment. He squeezes you into his arms as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t have a strong hold on you. His kisses go down to your face where he peppers them all over your cheeks and lips, whispering how much he loves you and how good you were for him.
“I love you so much ____ please don’t ever leave me,” he whimpers into your mouth. You pull away and look at him incredulously. “Baby…why would I leave you?” you ask softly. “I just…I don't know. I guess I got a little insecure back at the restaurant. I know it's stupid but, for a second it really seemed like I was losing you.” he explains sadly. You frown and give him a long, heartfelt kiss. “Koo baby, I don't even think about anyone else when I have you. You're all I need.” He blushes and grants you his precious bunny smile.
“My big jealous baby, you know I love you.” ♡
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nochukoo97 · 9 months
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boyfriend drabbles pt. 5
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Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader (8th member)
Summary: the one where Jungkook is overprotective of you, wanting to make it clear to others that your his girlfriend.
Word count: 800+
a/n: hii another drabble is outt this time its the reader as the 8th member and jk is being kinda cute HAHAHA anyways its my first time writing them in this pov so hope it isnt too bad 😊
masterlist!
“____ please get ready~” Your manager calls out as you stand up, fixing your hair.
All the members were in the waiting room, but they were waiting for you to film some videos with a few other idols before heading back home.
“I’ll be quick,” You say as they look up and nod their head at you, but Jungkook stands up and follows you outside.
Your boyfriend was always so supportive of whatever you did, when you were staying back during rehearsals to polish up your performance, your sweet Jungkook would stay and watch you, giving you feedback and praising your hard work. In times like this where it was individual shoots or filming, he also made an effort to watch you and praise you.
You began filming with other idols like Karina and Taeyong, both of which made you comfortable and you honestly had a good time filming and laughing with them.
It wasn’t uncommon for idols to be nice and friendly to each other behind cameras, but you definitely were wary of who you interacted with, especially since there were still a small number of them who weren’t as pleasant to work with.
You see Jungkook slightly frowning at the next person who walks up to you, the last filming you had to do.
Jay Park. He was infamous for flaming your group, claiming many things and telling it during interviews or talk shows. Your members never directly showed dissatisfaction towards the man, but rather just left him alone.
Another thing to know was that Jungkook was extra protective over you. And right now, he was eyeing the man as Jay Park greeted you, shaking your hand and holding onto it a little longer than your liking.
As you start to dance to his song while filming, you see Jungkook at the corner of your eye smiling proudly at you having fun and dancing well.
But your boyfriend’s expression flipped when you were about to finish the video:
Jay Park puts his arm around your exposed waist and pulls you closer to him for the end shot, holding up a peace sign as you can only internally sigh, uncomfortable with the sudden physical contact.
Jungkook is straight up glaring at the man who currently had his arm wrapped around HIS girlfriend, mind you. He wasn’t one bit happy.
As soon as the video ended, you quickly escaped out of his grasp, frowning slightly but changing your expression to a forced smile when you bow to him, thanking him for filming with you.
You didn’t really want to thank him after what he did.
As Jay Park walks back to his designated room, you watch as your boyfriend purposely walks too close to the other man, bumping into his shoulder.
Then Jungkook puts up an act and profusely apologized for “not seeing him”
You laugh silently at his act as your boyfriend now frowns at you.
“How can he just touch you like that? And out of all places your waist?” Jungkook complains as he grabs your hand, pulling you back into the room.
“I know, I was kinda annoyed at that but I had to pretend,” You say as you enter the room, “But anyways it’s over, it’s fine,”
“It’s not fine that he touched MY girlfriend like that in front of me, knowing damn well that you’re taken,” Jungkook grumbles as he plops himself on the couch.
You stare at your boyfriend in amusement, finding his overprotective state cute.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Jimin looks up from his phone after overhearing your conversation.
You reply “Yes,” wanting to change the topic but Jungkook decides it's crucial to inform everyone in the waiting room how important it is for people to know they shouldn’t touch you like that without asking.
Taehyung laughs at your boyfriend’s exasperated state, and the others watch in amusement.
You’re grateful that Jungkook is so protective and caring of you but right now you can only think how cute his reaction was.
“Okay, okay enough, I’ll just go tattoo “My Boyfriend is Jeon Jungkook, don’t touch me” on my forehead” You tease him as the rest of the members laugh at your joke, Jungkook rolls his eyes at your statement.
“Jagi I’ll make sure nobody ever does that again, or they’re getting it from me,” He tells you.
He sure does his job for the rest of the filming you did.
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forgeofthenine · 4 months
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Who do you think has the biggest breeding kink out of the tiefs? Alternatively, how do you think all three of them would react if you said you had one?
I love some good breeding kink headcanons, and this is a bit of an expansion on my first set of bachelor breeding kink headcanons. I hope you don't mind but I added in some references to tiefling ruts because the two are just so intertwined in my mind now. I hope you like the headcanons, I loved writing them :)
TW: NSFW under the cut, mentions of tiefling ruts, overstimulation
The bachelors with a breeding kink part 2
Dammon
Out of all the bachelors Dammon easily has the biggest breeding kink
He's had the kink since before he met you but it was absolutely reawakened when the two of you got together, particularly when you both start to settle down
It's hard for him to stop his eyes roaming over your body, focusing on your chest and hips in turn, or the way his hands cover your waist as he presses up behind you
Dammons very open with his kinks so he'd honestly be quite surprised if you told him about your breeding kink before he gets the chance to mention his
It's a pleasant revelation though, and make sure you do it on a day you have no other plans
As soon as the words leave your lips he's already throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bed
You've awoken a beast with that one revelation, and you won't be leaving that house until you're thoroughly bred
He has the stamina of a god and will fuck you like one too, stretching you out on his ridged cock and praising you every time you squeeze around him
"Trying to get me to cum already, baby? Want me to breed you that bad, don't worry gonna fill you up real nice..."
He'd hold a hand over your stomach as he fucks you too, holding you down against the bed with his hands and tail no matter how much you squirm from overstimulation
Just be careful you don't send him into an early rut, or you'll have days of this ahead of you
Zevlor
I don't think Zevlors thought much of breeding kinks, particularly because he feels that part of his life might've passed him by
This is other than when he's in rut, as soon as rut hits you already know he's trying to hide how much he wants to put a baby in you
He's quite happy with your sex life as you both settle into a new life in Baldurs gate, the two of you slowly introducing new kinks of interest
It's when you bring up having a breeding kink and would like to experiment with it when he's out of rut that he actually thinks about the idea
That night, as the two of you are sharing kisses and slowly stripping each other, he asks if you'd like for him to breed you
Honestly, he gets really into it, and he's easily one of the best men to ask about this specific kink
He's pure dilf material, and the way he fucks you with purpose only proves that
The entire time he's so sweet to you, telling you how beautiful you look full of his cum, how well you take every load he gives you
He always presses himself so close, so deep inside of you when he cums, hips firm against yours as he holds your squirming body still on his cock while he fills you
And I don't think I've mentioned this before but Zevlor cums a lot
Between years of being pent up and just having I can't believe I'm typing this big breeder balls, Zevlor will fill you up beyond belief until there's no way you aren't having his baby
Rolan
Rolan can get so embarrassed talking about sex and kinks in the beginning
The first time you'll see his undiscovered breeding kink appear is either when he's in rut or when he's extremely jealous about another man touching you
Even if you've seens hints of it in your sex life, he's still blindsided by you talking about your own breeding kink
It's not a bad surprise for him though, and as the conversation goes on you'll see him shifting as he tries to hide the ways his blood is rushing south
It doesn't take long for him to get into it at all, bending you over the bed and fucking you from behind like he has something to prove
Rolans the type to cum a bit earlier than others but he has less of a refractory period, so he's always filling you until his cum is dripping down your thighs and making a mess
This prim and proper wizard can get behind a messy fuck every once and a while, especially if he's trying desperately to get you off again to feel the way you squeeze around him as you cum, a feeling that always bring him back to his own peak
He wants to hear you moaning his name the whole time too, encouraging you to let everyone know who's breeding you so well
Out of all the men, Rolan would be the one to be most turned on if you respond with saying how good he feels and how much you want him to fill you up with cum
Rolans young and inexperienced but he'll still give you the fuck of your life if you ask him to breed you
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