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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months

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scorned earth |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: the last stop on your honeymoon tour of the districts, leaves coriolanus to show you parts of his past, making new memories with you. based off this ask from the other day :)

contains: smut 18+. dark!possessive!coriolanus. mentions of corio's past. dom/sub dynamics. skinny dipping, semi-public sex. pinvsex. mean-ish!coriolanus.

“Where are you taking me?” You looked around at the tall trees, the sun peaking through the branches onto the moss covered ground. Your hand in Coriolanus’, fingers intertwined, letting him lead you through the thicket of trees.

“It’s a surprise, my love. I told you.” Coryo’s eyes were bright, daring with excitement. Turning back to look at you over his shoulder, the sun caught in his baby blues, making your heart skip. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You melted at his words, smiling softly. “Of course, I do.” You whispered, letting him tug you through the forest. “I-I’m just worried about snakes, or bears, or-”

“-I won’t let them hurt you.” Coryo smiled, squeezing your hand. The pistol resting on his hip offered some comfort to you. “That’s why I’m going first.”

You’d blame it on the warmth of the day, hot but breezy, as the reason you were so flustered at his words. The heat in your cheeks, tingling up your spine. District Twelve was the last stop on your tour, the last stop on your honeymoon. Coriolanus insisted on showing you around, to some of his favorite spots from his Peacekeeper days. After putting the town on a strict lockdown- you weren’t sure why he did it, but you didn't dare question it- he dragged you out here.

“This is…” You looked at the water, sparkling from sunlight, and the greenery all around it.

“Breathtaking isn’t it?” Coriolanus’ arms found your waist, chin tucking over your shoulder. The breeze fell between the two of you, fresh air, not smoggy or stuffy like the polluted city air of the Capitol.

“It is.” You nodded, hand sliding over his biceps, leaning back into his touch. “How’d you ever find this?”

Coriolanus paused for a moment, heart skipping a beat at the thought of her. He wouldn’t tell you about her, not now, at least, it was your honeymoon. “We used to come out here on our days off.” He said instead. It wasn’t a complete lie, he supposed.

“Stay in that cabin, sometimes, when it would rain.” Coriolanus pointed to the cabin, a little more worn than he remembered, a lot colder looking too.

You turned, smiling at the sight. “That’s… This is very nice.” You grinned, head tilting back to meet his gaze. You looked pretty like this, Coryo decided, under the bright District Twelve summer sun.

“Would you like to go swimming?” Coryo smiled, hand brushing over your hip, squeezing it gently.

“Swimming?” You giggled. “In what, Coryo? I didn’t pack any swimwear.”

“Do you think they have swimwear here?” Coriolanus scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you. “Just go in your undergarments.”

“Coryo.” You blushed, looking around like there might be others to overhear. It was so improper, you were surprised he even suggested it.

“Or just go without anything on.” Coryo rasped, his crotch grinding lightly into the fat of your ass. Your body jolted with electric heat, grabbing at his arms. “No one’s out here, darling. I won’t mind.” His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, leaving you shivering at the thought.

Your hands trembled lightly with excitement, pushing down the straps of your dress, gaze on Coriolanus. He grinned proudly as you stripped, your eyes on him so obediently- just as he trained you to be. You were bare, arms covering your most private parts, standing in front of him on the small dock.

Coriolanus followed, slinging off his slacks, his shirt, grinning at you with that familiar, wild look in his eyes. It made your heart flutter, his gaze animalistic, roaming all over your body.

“I’m going to throw you in.” Coriolanus growled playfully, though his eyes were primal.

“Don’t you dare, Coryo.” You pointed at him, walking back on the creaking dock. “Coriolanus Snow, I swear-”

Coryo lunged at you, laughing at how you shrilled, your scream bouncing off the trees, the mockingjays echoing it through the breeze. Your bare feet padding against the wood, ass jiggling with your run, taunting him. You skidded to a stop at the edge, whipping around to look over your shoulder. Coriolanus pacing towards you, arms reaching out for you, eyes narrowed with a primal sense that had you reaching your arms out in instinct.

“Coryo, no!” Your squealing pleas were cut short, his hands on your waist, slinging both your naked bodies into the lake water.

Cool water plunged around you, hands clawing at Coriolanus even under the murky water. You surfaced, a large gasp of a breath, hands hitting the rippling waters with a panicked fury. You could swim, sure, but not very well, especially not when you were thrown in unexpectedly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Coriolanus hummed, hands pulling you into his wet chest, bobbling with you through the water. You crawled up his back, legs wrapping around his waist, hugging him tightly to you.

He could feel your heart beating on the back of his chest, your pebbled nipples from the cold water pressing to his back, making his cock lurch with lust.

“Don’t you dare let go of me.” You hissed, nails digging into his shoulder. “There’s no telling what’s in this water. I can’t even see the bottom.”

“Oh,” Coryo taunted, chin hooking over his shoulder to grin at you. “Might be a monster, hm? Might come up and bite you.” His fingers pinched the fat of your ass, you squealed in his ear, feet pushing up on his hips, dunking him slightly.

He sputtered, water, feet kicking steadily under the water to keep you both afloat, wiping the droplets out of his eyes. Your pouting face greeted him once his vision cleared, brows creased in a deep furrow. “That wasn’t funny.” You grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be pouty with me, darling. I was only teasing.” Coriolanus’ hands found your waist, pulling you around his body so you rested on his hips, legs still tight around him in a vice. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you, petal.” He muttered, cupping your jaw gently.

It was a rare pet name, but by far your most beloved, which is why Coriolanus used it so sparingly. Only when he was especially in love, when he wanted you to know.

You ducked into his kiss, your own hands on the back of his head, pulling you closer and closer to him. His lips moving on yours, noses brushing, teeth gnashing in a positively sloppy makeout. It felt exhilarating to be doing this in public, showing such crude affection outdoors, even if no one else was around.

Coriolanus’ hand on your hip, squeezing gently, sliding under the water up your back to cup your breasts under the water. You giggled breathy into his kiss, legs tightening under the water. Coriolanus tipped you into the kiss, dunking you under the water accidentally.

You sputtered, coughed at the water invading your nose, glaring back at him. He grinned cheekily, squeezing the fat of your left ass cheek firmly under the water. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” He hummed. “Far easier in the bathtub, I’m finding out.”

You blushed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “So what then? On the banks? Like animals?”

Coriolanus’ eyes left your gaze, darkening at what he saw past you. You could see the change in them, that crossed over to something sinister and dark, it made your stomach flip with thrill, anticipation.

“No,” Coryo’s eyes met yours, lips curling in a sinister smile. “I have a better idea.”

“That’s it, that’s perfect, my love.” Coriolanus grunted, head tipping back into the hardwood of the floors.

The floorboards squeaked beneath you, with every rise and fall of your hips. Your hair was still damp, as was his, bodies still soft from the water that hadn’t been wiped away. His hands pawed at your breasts, squeezing them with every roll and rise, riding him in the small cabin.

His mind flooded with memories, memories of before, everytime he looked around. The dark day he didn’t want to remember, a dark time before you. Coriolanus felt guilty, thinking of her while you were on top of him- his wife. So he did what he could to keep his mind from wandering, pawing at your breasts, grabbing at the fat of your ass, but he swore- swore he could hear the mockingjays singing that same song over and over.

“Wait, just a- hold on, darling girl.” Coriolanus grunted, pressing on your hip to stop you.

“What?” You panted, chest rising and falling sharply. “What’s wrong?” You muttered, purely lust drunk, your eyes told him so.

Coryo smiled, cradling your jaw gently, pulling you to him. Your body folded over his, lips on his, kissing him passionately. Coriolanus flipped the two of you, rolling you lightly onto the wooden floor, the floorboards groaning at the shift. His hands cupped under your knees, pressing your thighs forward, letting you hook them over his shoulders while he bottomed out in you, smug at how your eyes rolled back.

“C-Coryo,” You whimpered at the sudden change of pace, his hips snapping and rolling into you sharply, cock spearing that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open dumbly.

Coriolanus’ pace didn’t stop, fucking you nearly barbarically, at a punishing pace. You hadn’t expected it, truthfully, he normally saved this type of sex for when you’d been bad, when you needed to get fucked like this. Maybe he needed it. Something about District Twelve had him off, but you didn’t pry.

“Look at me.” Coriolanus growled, hands pushing into your hips, fingertips curling so sharply you knew there would be bruises.

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed with ecstasy from every punctuating jab of his cock into you. “Who do you belong to?”

You were confused, mind dwindling away, thoughts following them. Coriolanus tapped your cheek lightly, hard enough to get your attention, eyes snapping obediently back to him. “Answer me.” Coryo repeated through gritted teeth, his pace not letting up, not once. “Who do you belong to?”

“Y-You.” You shuddered, body rolling with another wave of pleasure, thighs trembling around him.

“Say it again.” Coriolanus spat, reaching forwards, hand cupping your cheeks, squeezing them between his fingers so your lips puckered. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Coryo, you. You- oh!- it’s only you. Only you.” You babbled, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as your orgasm consumed you. He didn’t stop, squeezing tighter around your cheeks.

“You’re all mine. Mine. You belong to me, you got that? Not anyone else.” Coriolanus growled, his thrusts faster now, leaving you no time to recover. You whimpered at the sensation, the sensitivity.

“You’re never leaving me, either. You got that?” Coryo snarled. Your eyes had glazed, looking at the wood ceiling above him, half heartedly pushing at his arm.

Coriolanus’ hand pulled your chin back to him, stilling suddenly, still deep inside of you. “Look at me.” He sneered. Your eyes fluttered to him. “You’re not leaving me, ever.” He held your gaze, his wild eyed one peering back at you.

“Say it.” Coryo demanded. You whimpered, his hips pressing further into you, filling you more- you didn’t even know he still could, you felt so full already. “Say it!’

The sheer possessiveness, his tone, a chilling edge that had you shuddering. “I-I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, voice caught around the lump in your throat. “I’m not going anywhere, Coryo, staying with you.”

“Forever?” Coryo hated how needy he sounded, but he doubted you noticed, not with the way your lip was trembling, eyes glazed.

“Forever.” You repeated, squeezing his wrist lightly. “Forever with you. Only you.”

Coriolanus dropped himself over you, face buried in the crook of his neck to breathe in your sweat soaked scent, rutting into you like a mutt in heat until he was spilling, presseed deep inside of you, milking his load into you.

The walk back to the train was much slower this time. You clung to Coryo, legs wobbly and unsure, his arms wrapped around your back. It was silent, the chirping of the birds, the breeze floating between the leaves, your only sound.

Coryo left you later that night, tucked into the bed, pressing a kiss to your head. You didn’t pry as to where he was going, and he was grateful for that. You didn’t ask why he smelled of smoke when he came back, why he was just as ravenous as before, which he was even more thankful for.

As Coriolanus left you, meeting with the General over the Peacekeepers, leading them back through the thicket, he thought of her. Her smug grin, her in his mother’s shawl, how she’d just left it- left him. He thought he’d never recover after Lucy Gray. Then he met you. How you treasured every gift, only looked at him, craved him the way he did you.

You wore his mother’s ring with pride, and he knew she’d be pleased with you.

Which is why he had to kill all of his past before you.

Kill the woman who wrecked him, the girl who took his heart and shredded it, made it jagged for your hold.

And as the cabin burned, scorched under the starry night sky, Coriolanus was pleased knowing his last memories of the cabin were with you instead of her.

Knowing that part of him was ash like the wooden cabin was now, soot mixed with the soil of District Twelve.

Coriolanus returned back to you, holding you as close as he could in his arms, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. You were his, and he was yours. Now until forever.

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strange-aeons · 1 year

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Please look at the dress I made my cat (first thing I ever made and I’m V proud)

She really likes it I’m assuming because she has no problem with me putting it on her but throws a fit when I try to take it off. TY YOUR MY ROLE MODEL!

the design is awesome!! it looks really good but also comfy and non-restrictive for the cat. She is giving me tumblr cottagecore girl who lives in a tiny cottage covered in moss.

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coreytaylr · 1 month

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100% legit totally real facts about the historical stede bonnet

no the title is not a lie these are really REAL bc believe it or not, somehow the show made our stede MORE competent than the real one

sources: Real Pirates podcast (ep1, ep2, ep3, ep4, ep5), Dirty Sexy History podcast (with jeremy moss, bonnet's biographer, who LOVES the show, and said it changed his perspective on bonnet's and blackbeard's relationship PLUS he has the stedesrevenge handle on twt)

the library on the revenge was a real thing. the man really did that.

running away from his family to be a pirate

paying a salary to his crew

SHOWING UP IN NASSAU IN FRILLY GENTLEMANLY CLOTHES AND A POWDERED WIG

before bonnet's capture, he ran his ship aground and that's how the english caught up with him BUT the two english ships also ran aground (😭), so they fought each other with their flintlock pistols from behind their ships (until the tides turned and dislodged the english ships first. rip)

adopted an alias when he started pirating so people wouldn't know it was him but he raided ships near Barbados (where he's from), so that didnt turn out well. his solution? burning every ship from Barbados

he only succeeded in his early days bc merchant ships knew they would get off easier if they surrendered

ATTACKED A WARSHIP that whooped his ass so bad he almost died. the remaining crew steered the ship to Nassau where he met blackbeard

blackbeard stole the revenge from him but "allowed" him to stay on BB's ship (either as a guest or as a prisoner, it's not clear, but he def wasn't a crew member bc he didn't have any chores)

he was seen on deck running around in his gowns 😭😭

BB eventually reinstated him as the captain of the revenge and they sailed together for a while

"there is a 4 month period where stede and blackbeard kind of disappeared and no one really knows what they were doing" 👀

BB allowed bonnet to raid on his own which lead to him getting his ass beat by the Protestant Caesar. BB then proceeded to HUNT DOWN THE PROTESTANT CAESAR while flying the RED FLAG (which meant no mercy to anyone on board)

bonnet would raid ships and take what provisions he needed and give the other ship what he didn't need (essentially the library raiding scene lmaoo)

BB betrayed bonnet by raiding his ship and marooning his crew while bonnet was off getting a pardon

SO BONNET SWORE REVENGE AGAINST BB who was at the time, the most feared pirate

this led to him adopting another alias - "he also changes his name, at the time he goes by captain edward's. which is really interesting, I don't know if that's an homage to, you know, edward teach, but.. captain edward's with an "s", that's as if he's.. a possession of captain edward" ONCE AGAIN 👀👀👀👀

HE ESCAPED PRISON BY DRESSING AS A WOMAN

after escaping, he was promised a sloop by some rando. when the rando didnt deliver, bonnet "WROTE HIM A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER REPRIMANDING THE MAN"

that letter led to him being recaptured 😭😭

he was hanged while holding a bouquet of wilted flowers

#stede bonnet #our flag means death #ofmd #real pirates #dirty sexy history #kriss.exe #I WENT DOWN A RABBITHOLE IM SORRY #all of these are so fucking funny how was this man REAL #btw BB only became the legend AFTER he met bonnet #anyways the twt crew loved these so thats why i decided to compile them in one post #hope you all enjoy it too <3 #blackbeard #edward teach

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theknightswhotilrecentlysaidnee · 2 years

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My favorite celeb conspiracy at the moment is that Taylor Swift is actually in a relationship with Blake Lively and that Joe is just a beard and Ryan Reynolds is either a third or a beard depending on the day there’s nothing to prove it but also the lyrics to all her love songs about Joe are about how absolutely gorgeous they are with their amazing golden hair and I just think if you look at pics of her boyfriend next to Blake it’s clear which one makes more sense

#also there was that whole thing about Christian Serriano making that rainbow dress that was clearly designed for a white person #and someone on TT speculated it was her for her and Christian duetted it sipping tea but then deleted it quickly #and there have been rumors about her and that glee girl and her and karlee moss for ever #so I just think she likes girls that also look kinda like her and also she made Blake’s kids characters in songs ok bye

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faithshouseofchaos · 2 months

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Dress up — dad!Charles Leclerc x reader

Tagged— @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @hrts4scarr @jaeeyaaasworld @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

The two most important people in Charles' life were his wife and his daughter. Charles loved them more than life itself. Charles' favorite thing to do on the weekends was play with his daughter Anastasia Juliet Leclerc. Charles would never admit to it but he lived for the moments when Anastasia dragged him into her playroom to play dress up and dollies.

“What do you want to do today?” Charles asked Anastasia while cleaning up her face from breakfast.

“I wanna play dress up!” Anastasia squealed.

“Okay princess, let’s get you all decked out”, Charles responds as he lifts her into his arms. He carries her to her playroom and sets her down on a stool in front of her large wardrobe.

“Ooh look, Daddy, I want this one!” She exclaims, pulling an Aurora-themed dress from her play play chest filled with dresses and other costumes

“Wow, I can see why!” Charles responds as he checks out the dress. It’s gorgeous, made of sparkly gold fabric, and adorned with beautiful gems. Charles can imagine the fairy tale it will create. “How about we go with this dress today and let’s see what else we can come up with to go with it”, he suggests as he pulls out a basket of accessories for her to choose from.

Anastasia squeals with excitement as she digs through the basket of sparkling necklaces, bracelets, and tiaras. She decides on a small crown made of rubies and a tiara that matches her dress. Charles can’t help but smile as he watches his daughter’s imagination run wild.

“Your turn papa!” Anastasia exclaimed excitedly as she grabbed a fake pearl necklace, two clip-on earrings, and a tiara and put them on her papa.

“Daddy looks so elegant!”, Charles laughs as he puts on the delicate necklace, earrings, and matching tiara that Anastasia gives him. He looks very silly dressed as a princess but he can tell she loves it.

“Do you like me like this, my fair princess?” Charles asks with a playful look on his face.

“Yes, daddy! You look just like my favorite princess from my story book”, Anastasia responds as she kisses him on the cheek. Her face is full of joy and love as she looks at her adoring father.

“Can I do your makeup next?” Anastasia asks in a very childlike, adorable tone.

Charles has no idea why his daughter wants to do his makeup, but he can’t deny the chance to spend more time with her, not to mention she’d probably give him some kind of funny look.

“Hmm, okay but you have to be gentle, okay princess?” Charles says as he sits down on a stool in front of her.

“Okay Daddy, I’ll be very careful”, Anastasia says.

Anastasia begins by applying a light pink blush on his cheeks and a touch of sparkle shadow on his eyes.

Charles looks down now and then to see what his daughter is doing and he is pleasantly surprised by how careful and nice she is being with him.

Charles is not afraid of being seen in such a ridiculous way, especially since Anastasia is the one doing the makeup. His main focus in that moment is how much his daughter loves dressing up with him and she’s not even asking for anything in exchange, all she wants is to play with her daddy.

“Okay, now I just need to add a little lipstick and you’ll be ready for the ball”, Anastasia says excitedly. She applies a light pink lipstick to her father’s lips.

Charles is enjoying this moment with his young princess. He feels relaxed and content in a way he hasn’t in a while. She’s not asking him for anything, not even an expensive toy or a new dress, all she wants is to play dress up with her father.

“All done! You look amazing Daddy”, Anastasia exclaims excitedly. Charles isn’t sure what’s more laughable, his princess dress and makeup or the huge smile on his daughter’s face. She seems genuinely proud of the look she’s put together for her daddy as if he was going to go to a royal ball at the palace.

Charles can’t help but giggle as he watches his daughter’s face light up. She’s so excited to see him in his princess dress and makeup, and he’s happy to oblige. He feels silly but he enjoys making his daughter happy. It seems like every time he gives in, she wants to play dress up for longer. What started as a couple of minutes has turned into an hour already.

“Come on, Daddy, we have to dance!” Anastasia says as she grabs her father’s hand and pulls him up from his stool.

Anastasia doesn’t want to waste any time getting started with their grand ball of a dance and she wants her prince charming by her side. Charles can’t help but laugh as his daughter’s imagination runs wild.

She is having so much fun with this make-believe game that she doesn’t even realize how much time is passing. Charles just wants her to be happy.

“Okay my fair princess, let us dance!” Charles responds, following his daughter’s cue and pretending to be her prince charming. He takes her hand and begins to sway her from side to side as if they were dancing. He even goes so far as to spin her around a few times as they make their rounds around the room.

Anastasia is grinning from ear to ear as she feels like a real princess, dancing with her handsome prince. Charles is smiling as well, but his smile is more about how much his daughter is enjoying this game.

When you got home you could hear the father-daughter pair in the playroom giggling and laughing. Walking to Anastasia’s playroom you watched the two dance around before making yourself known.

“Well don’t you two look adorable” you said to Charles and your daughter

Charles smiles at his wife as she walks through the door and sees him playing dress up with his daughter. It’s been a long day at work but watching the two of them dancing in the playroom makes him forget all about it.

“Yes we do, don’t we mommy? And all thanks to Anastasia! She made me look so beautiful”, Charles replies with a sarcastic yet endearing tone.

“Thank you, honey, this was all Anastasia’s idea”, Charles says as he turns towards you. You love that your husband still allows your daughter to play with him and even dress him up in silly outfits and makeup. He knows he looks silly and would never go out like that, but for Anastasia, he would pretend to be anyone she wants him to be.

“Do I look pretty?” Anastasia asks, twirling in front of you. The pink dress and makeup bring out her blue/green eyes and give her an innocent and soft aura. She looks almost like a miniature version of a Disney princess.

“You look gorgeous!” You exclaim as you look at your daughter dressed as a princess. You feel like your heart is going to burst with joy when you see how happy she looks dressed up and playing dress up with her father.

“Can I do your makeup too, mommy?”, Anastasia asks as she watches you look at her. She’s already made up her mind, she wants to put makeup on you too.

“Alright princess, you can do my makeup but you have to be careful and not make me look too silly, okay?” You respond as you give her a small smile. You know that Anastasia loves to play dress up and it’s sweet how she wants to include you as well.

“Don’t worry Mommy, I’m going to make you look more beautiful than you already are”, Anastasia replies with a big grin on her face. You can’t help but chuckle at her confidence, she looks so sure that she’s going to make you look like the prettiest woman in the whole world.

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mrskokushibo · 11 months

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To Succumb

Kokushibo x Fem!Reader

I NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

Synopsis: You are a Hashira, and on your mission, you encounter Upper Moon One. What happens next is beyond your wildest dreams.

Warnings: SMUT. Vaginal penetration. Creampie. Oral. Rough oral. Mild degradation (mainly verbal) Fem!Submission. Dom!Kokushibo.

A/N: It seems as there is some anticipation built up for this one. Thank you for your request, Anon. ( Link to the request.)

Wordcount: 2552

Masterlist

As you ventured into the forest, with every step you took, the light was fading more and more, and almost unnatural darkness was invading the space between the tall trees. Your steps were muffled by the softness of the moss as if you were treading on a carpet.

The reason you embarked on the several-mile-long journey was a suspected demon sighting near a village in the vicinity of the Demon Slayer headquarters. Its' inhabitants have been supportive of the secretive organisation for centuries. They practiced and honoured the recently ostracised culture of the samurai. Unfortunately, in the past few months, the authorities took an interest in that, with soldiers being sent to inspect and invigilate the villagers. It was all but a minor nuisance until a whole squadron of soldiers disappeared on the way to the village. This made the local law enforcement even more suspicious and there were measures to be taken. Increased harassment and surveillance of the villagers would also put the secrecy of the location of Demon Slayer Corps headquarters at risk.

The news reached Master Ubuyashiki and a suspicion of demons lurking in the forest nearby arose. It would not be out of the question if Muzan was starting to sniff out the location of the headquarters. As a devoted Hashira, you volunteered to take the assignment to inspect the area for possible demons. You decided to go alone, as it was easier to stay unnoticed by the authorities. The last thing anyone needed at this point was both demons and law enforcement getting too close to the headquarters.

You were in one of the deepest parts of the forest now. The foliage was much denser here, vines covered the knotted tree trunks and the moss was so thick that your feet sunk with every step. Only faint rays of sunlight were now reaching the forest floor and your senses were on alert.

And that is when you spotted it. A demon. He was tall and with a powerful build, dressed in a traditional outfit of hakama and kimono, with long red-black hair tied in a thick and unruly ponytail, and layered bangs framing his face. His clothes were black and purple and he had a huge katana stuck under his obi. The saya of the sword was red and decorated with eyes, that seemed to be … moving. He had his left hand casually resting on the tsuka of the katana. The hand had a completely normal human anatomy, indicating, that he most likely kept his human body. His face was that of an unusually handsome human male, however now demonically transformed by six red eyes. He was impressive.

And as you looked into his eyes, you noticed it, the writing, kanji for Upper Moon One… Your heart sunk like a millstone, hindering any movement from you. You were as good as dead now. There was no way you could stand a chance against one of the upper-rank demons. And this was number one, the strongest of them all. His aura was palpable, slowly gripping you like a vice. He was emitting such darkness that it felt like the night has already begun.

‘Greetings, slayer’

A deep, resounding, and dignified voice filled the space between you. His tone was condescending and he sneered.

‘Have you come to fight me?’

He thought you a pitiful little creature, yet he had to admire your bravery, to do what was right according to your orders, that was something he did have respect for.

He started moving toward you, his aura gripping you tighter with every step he took. You were almost choking, your whole body squeezed by the pressure. Slowly a different sensation began to arise. To your dismay, you were becoming… aroused. The pressure did not discriminate and with so much of it being exerted on your breasts and between your legs that it was no wonder that it gained this kind of unwanted effect on you. This was also enhanced by his imposing and stunning appearance. He might have been a demon, but by retaining an almost completely normal human form, he made any man you ever met in your life appear like a boy in comparison.

*What is this?* You were so ashamed of how your body was reacting to someone you should be only feeling hatred towards.

To make things worse, he started speaking again in scorn.

‘Oh, how amusing, little slayer, I see you are a whore too, not just a tragic little Hashira.’

You were aware of the existence of a special ability called the transparent world and obviously, this demon had full control over that ability. How else could he see what you were experiencing? You were good at hiding your emotions, one of the lucky ones to not even blush when embarrassed.

As he was approaching a nagging thought kept on bothering you. *Why doesn’t he just kill me? He would be done with me in seconds.* What you did not understand, is that from his perspective you were neither vicious nor powerful enough to satisfy his appetite, and yet he could not help but admire your bravery in facing him completely on your own and not just turning on your heel and running.

‘I will kill you, demon. I will bring your head to the Master. You’ll see.’

Your pathetic and futile threat embarrassed even yourself as soon as the words left your lips.

‘Ubuyashiki, that annoying weakling? Oh no, it is his head I will take to MY Master.’

He sneered again, his deep voice carrying a menacing tone.

He was now straight in front of you, his tall figure towering over you.

‘Undress and kneel!’ his commanding tone left no room for resistance, so you did as you were told.

Your thoughts were muddled, his aura burning into you, clouding your mind, and making your body heat up. When all control was lost, your hands wandered to his groin, cupping his clothed manhood. He did not stop you, only looked down at you with nostrils flaring and lips twisted in a vicious smirk. He was not fully erect, but as soon as your hands touched him, his cock started twitching and growing to a monstrous size.

Without a word, he removed his hakama and the obi holding his kimono together. As it came undone the arousal you felt deepened causing your pussy to leak uncontrollably. You have never seen a male body this perfect, never of such an imposing size and stature. Even his voice was now sending you into overdrive as he spoke with a stoic look in his eyes

‘I might just as well have some fun with you, little whore. You seem to be asking for it and I just so happen to be in the mood to grant someone’s wish.’

He sneered sarcastically, almost amused by his own witty comment.

‘Take it in your mouth’ his deep voice now commanded.

Forgetting your orders from Master Ubuyashiki, forgetting who you were, you leaned forward and opened your mouth wide while encircling the base of his shaft with both your hands. Your mouth was now slowly taking him in, your tongue lapping up the salty precum. Surprisingly, he tasted human. He was patient with your slow progress, with eyes closed, he was savouring the sensation that the inside of your mouth was causing him to feel.

You kept on sucking, but you neither could go deep enough nor suck any faster. He was too big. You were making cute little wet, gagging noises and your eyes were tearing from the strain. He had his large hand on your head all the while you were working away on his cock. Suddenly, he grabbed your hair and yanked it back, pulling you off and away from his dick.

‘This is not good enough’ he hissed and with that pushed you onto the soft moss. You were now flat on your back, waiting in anticipation while he was slowly removing the remainder of his clothing.

He then kneeled between your legs and batted them away with his large thighs, so you would be nice and wide open for him. He hovered above you and without a warning, pushed his entire length into you as you screamed at the initial pain that this caused you. You were literally impaled on him and you could not believe something so huge could fit inside your small hole. His thrusts were strong and rough, but in no time at all your discomfort was turning into pleasure as your pussy was clenching and sopping all over his huge cock.

He was so deep inside you that you could feel him pressing into your cervix. Your pussy was being moulded to his cock’s shape and size, you were shocked that you were taking him so well, so willingly. Fuck, no man has ever made you feel so full, so satiated, and at the same time craving more. You started to move your hands all over his shoulders, chest, and abs, running them through his thick black hair. He was magnificent and you wanted him now so badly to fill you up with his seed. The indecent thoughts startled you yet you were too lost in the pleasure to care about decency.

You were moaning and screaming. ‘More…more…harder… please…’ You were mumbling and pulling on his mane. His thrusts were brutal and the force was sending you deeper into the moss. But you wanted it this way. Your pussy clenching and spasming, every sensitive spot being stimulated at the same time, the knot in your belly pulling your aching clitoris and pussy tighter and tighter together, until it burst to cause an orgasm that made your body spasm and shiver, your juices squirt out and your mouth elicited a scream that lasted for a good ten seconds.

When you were done with your climax, he paused for a moment and looked at you, cocking his head and smirking:

‘Where is the brave Hashira now, hm? You wanted to kill me and bring my head to your master and instead, you let me fuck you. You let a demon fuck you.’

He savoured the last sentence.

His long index finger was tracing the outline of your face, your lips, your profile, and your eyebrows, causing small electric shocks of pleasure to burst out under your delicate skin. He continued talking.

‘You know, you are pretty, clever, and skilled enough for me to make you my private little oiran.’

He nearly chuckled but the idea must have aroused him more, as he resumed his thrusts with far more power and speed. His teeth were gritted and he was close to his own climax. His abs contracted as his rough hips were thrusting into you, faster and harder and deeper. And then his thrusts grew slower and with one deep shove into you he emptied himself inside you, you could feel a bulge forming on your belly, you were so full.

When he pulled out, his semen run out of your pussy and all over your thighs and his twitching cock sprayed out some more on your belly. You were completely out of breath, but he seemed unmoved. You looked down and his cock was again semi-erect.

‘Lick it clean, my little whore’

And you did not need encouragement anymore, he was training you well, and you were becoming just that, his whore. You went on all four and started licking his dick, the combined flavour of both your sexes was enticing your taste buds. You closed your eyes and soon he was hard again, thick veins, like ropes snaking around his girthy shaft.

He grabbed your hair, twirled it around his wrist, and pushed your head down onto his cock making you gag. He was moving your head for you at a tempo he desired, with no concern for you choking on his huge manhood. Drool was dripping down your chin as he kept on the self-indulgent action, the sloppy gagging noises making him harder every time he pushed your head down.

Eventually, he let up, loosening the grip on your hair, and you, as driven by instinct, pulled away from him, wiping away the spit and tears caused by this rough mouth fucking.

He turned you around so that your ass was now high up in the air, facing him, and pushed your head down, his hand sliding down to an iron grip around the back of your neck. He grabbed his stiff cock and placed the tip at your entrance, then placed his large hand on your ass, and once again, with one ruthless thrust, he shoved himself fully into you. At this point you were already adjusted, wet enough and your genitals deliciously blood-filled and swollen that the action caused you nothing but extreme pleasure.

He was so much deeper inside you now as well. You felt his tip entering your cervix for every thrust. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit and the chokehold on your neck was depriving you of just enough air that you were hovering on the border of being semi-conscious. Thanks to the transparent world, he had perfect control of you. You were his little fuck toy now.

You knew you would soon come and you were letting him guide you toward the peak of your ecstasy. He was close too, every thrust growing sloppier and deeper, until after one deep push into you, he stopped and sprayed his seed straight into your cervix, his twitching and spasming cock shoved in and out of it with a slow pumping motion. This made you come as well and you were once again screaming and shaking uncontrollably.

When both of you finally descended from your respective highs, he spoke in a hushed and serious tone.

‘You see, what you have just done, is final. You can no longer return to your little slayer friends. They will recognise the smell of a demon on you. They will smell my seed. This is nothing you can wash out, not even if you tried. And I will not grant you the mercy of honourable death. So, you only have two choices: abandon being a Hashira and live the rest of your days in regret of what could have been, or succumb to me and become mine forever.’

This was all he said and now it was your turn to choose. You thought of how hard you worked to become a Hashira and how awful a dull, mundane life would feel after that. You could always commit seppuku, but it was not in your character to ever do a thing like that. You thought of all the brave men dying off around you and how lonely you felt knowing you would never find anyone to belong to.

At this moment, this choice was a terrible one, but this demon made you experience what no man ever managed to give you. Your flesh craved him, your mind was engulfed by him and you could feel a faint voice of your soul urging you to let go, to follow your destiny.

And when pulling his head closer to yours into a deep and passionate kiss, you knew now, that your fate was sealed for all time to come.

Banner by @cafekitsune

Artwork downloaded from Wallpapers.com

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Tagging ❤️: @tired-writer04 @muzanswaifu @doumadono @koku-shibou / @kokusfluffyhair @sunsblaze @fuckkyourlife @paintoreos @koyuki-the-flower @muzansfangs

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carolmunson · 11 months

Text

is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x thick!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #pbv!steve #steve harrington fluff

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trulyumai · 19 days

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Oh, Mr Mosses (Series) II

Part one can be found here!

https://www.tumblr.com/trulyumai/746978557424812032/oh-mr-mosses-series?source=share

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being.

Will you be as smitten of him as he is of you? Only time will tell.

Taglist; @tfamidoingwithmylife (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Oh, Mr. Mosses II

“There you are Ms. Svertchz, have a wonderful day!” The receptionist smiled and through the glass she carefully looked at the woman in front of her. Her nails were so clean, she noticed, they were always gelled, matching whatever premium outfit she had on that day.

“Yes, you too dear.” Without a glance at the younger woman the resident walked off, the tapping of her heels echoed through the old corridor and finally ceased when the elevator creaked its way down.

It had been a week since meeting Francis, and she hadn’t really gotten a true impression of the man. He was so quiet, so… watchful. Anything she did in front of him she could feel his eyes on her, always staring at her with this thoughtful yet blank expression.

He was just shy, she had thought. And if she was to make a move at all, it had to be small enough so that neither of them would be too embarrassed or caught off guard.

He was so handsome, he was dressed nicely all the time and his lazy gaze fit his face so well. His nose was a bit hooked and larger than the average, but he made it look rugged, sexy even.

With a shake to the head and a glance at the clock she let out a sigh. It was break time.

Clouds rolled in, the rain came down soon after and poured down mercilessly. The winds howled along with it and she swore that if it got any stronger, the building would come cascading down. Almost everyone had checked in for the night, everyone except, she eyed the list again; Francis Mosses.

With a squeeze to the paper she couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath.

It was hell waiting to see if the dupe would come through the doors. Recently it had been trickier to spot the fake, they were getting smarter, better.

Just the other day she almost let in a double of Ms. Bubbles, if she hadn’t noticed the lipstick was maroon instead of its usual raspberry who knows how many bodies would be littering the floor right now. The monster was furious she had caught on, it was so close, so close to being let in and getting its way through the building.

A slam startled her out of her thoughts, the doors to the plaza burst open from someone- or something walking inside.

The steps were slow, lazy, it had to be-

“Mmm. Hello.” The milkman smiled, and although it was small, it comforted the receptionist dearly.

“Hello Francis! The regular forms, please.” Straight to business, then who knows? Maybe ask him about coffee, a bookstore date, anything!

Grabbing the papers he slid them over to the entrance, pushing them through with ease.

Turning them over she began her rambling.

“How was your day, Francis? Things have been super slow here.” She mumbled, lining up each number and form.

“Mm, it was fine. The rain was a bit of a hindrance but it didn’t stop me from completing my routes.” God, the way she said his name, he had to stop himself from biting down on his knuckles. Perfect, how could someone be so perfect all the time?

He was enamored, obsessed even, with everything she was. It had been a week, sure, but it felt like a lifetime for him.

She was distracted, per usual so he could stare at her freely now with no embarrassment to be had. Yet.

Her blouse was simple, a nice pale pink that hugged her in all the right places. And was that, a pencil skirt? Holy hell, this woman would be the death of him.

With a glance to her left she looked at the schedule for the hundredth time, Francis' name was indeed there.

“Everything’s clear, sorry for the wait.” She smiled at him then, her perfect teeth molded smoothly around her lips and- did he say she was perfect yet?

“Thank you.” Those glossy lips were tantalizing him, that had to be new lipstick, there’s no way he hadn’t noticed that sheen before on those plump, kissable-

“Are you okay? You space out a lot,” she laughed.

Quickly grabbing his forms he shoved them in his pocket, not bothering to open his wallet once more.

He had to leave, the thoughts were getting to him, he felt hot, sweaty and tight in all the wrong places. It was a good thing his uniform came with black pants, otherwise he wouldn’t bother to show his face around any longer.

“Mm, have a good night.” Without a pause he made his way to the elevator, and if it wasn't for the hand that shot out the paper slot he would have made it there.

“Wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to grab you like that, but um,” his eyes couldn’t help but widen, looking down her hand was still around his wrist. So small, so soft.

“Do you… want to get coffee sometime?” She mumbled, although the rain was heavy and sounded out almost anything, he heard her. Because of course he did. Lifting his other arm, he couldn’t help but cover his mouth and cheeks. He rubbed his face, played it off as if he was really thinking it over, like it was a hard answer.

“Mmm. Sure that sounds good.” And with a light smile he met her eyes. They were shining, full of emotion and if he looked any longer there was no way he was leaving.

“Wait, really?” She gasped, letting go of his hand quickly and slotting it back to the other side.

“Mhm, just… I’ll come to you, my schedule is quite hectic, you see.”

“No of course! That sounds great, I'm sorry again for grabbing you,” And she truly looked apologetic, her face was so sympathetic, chin tilted downwards and she looked more like a kicked puppy than anything else.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” he’s totally not going to imagine her hands later, gripping his shoulders, neck, trailing them down further and further.

“I’ll see you soon then!” She pushed her hair back, letting it fall behind her gorgeous neck, collarbones and, what was he saying again?

“Mm? Yes. Yes I’ll see you soon.” With a little pep to his step he pushed the elevator button.

It was then a call rang out, it was the work phone.

With a dreamy sigh she imagined him, the date and how perfect it all would be. Maybe they could grab dessert after.

“Resident desk, employee 29 speaking.”

“Hey 29! Great to catch you!” The manager's voice rang through and she sighed, her break was almost up and of course, the most extroverted person had to come talk her ear off.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?”

“Straight to the point, you know I love that! You got the schedule for next week, right? Should be in a yellow envelope,” he smacked his teeth on the other end, and she could picture him now with his toothpick and big glasses staring right at her.

“Yes sir, you told me not to open it until the day of.”

He laughed. “Yep yep! Just uh, making sure. So, while I have you I thought I should mention,” shuffling was heard on the other end, like papers were being sorted through and thrown about.

“The D.D.D wanted to make sure all employees know that this month will be more active than ever, and uh, they're sending in new forms to sign, waivers and what not.”

She frowned. Active? What, how, why?

Cutting him off she couldn’t help but talk fast. “Sir? Active? Why are they more active?”

He paused, and she swore she could hear her heartbeat through her ears before he spoke up again.

“Yeah, yeah, they said it had something to do with the weather? No idea, didn’t really bother to ask them you know, it’s hard to hold a conversation with a guy in a hazmat suit.”

He laughed again and she wanted to strangle him, the man couldn’t take anything serious.

“That’s all doll, you have a wonderful evening you here?”

“Wait, sir-“ Click.

That bastard, who does he think he is? Who does management think they are? Putting the phone back on the hook she couldn’t help but feel tired. Tired from work bullshit, how everyone brushed her off even though she was helping people, saving lives each and every night.

The clock chimed, signaling for her shift to be over and she lazily rolled her chair back, getting up while picking at her nails.

At least she had the date to look forward to, right?

A/N: Second chapter done! We are slowly getting to the darker side of things woo! The next chapter will be a big one. I'll be introducing Francis’ mimic and will the receptionist be able to tell which is which? Well see! Let me know if i should implement more smuttier descriptions or content, for now i haven't but that can change! See you lovelies soon, TrulyUmai

#Horror #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #TNMN!#x reader #slow burn #romance #horror game #game x reader #Francis Mosses x you

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