#something possessed me and i drew this last night

[smolalienbee]

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Quick! Be smooth, Harry.

RHETORIC [Challenging - Failure] - Uhh ummm...

YOU - “Hey... come here often?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is obviously resisting an urge to roll his eyes. Even so, he gives you a quick, fond smile.

“Detective, we’ve been standing here together for the last 15 minutes.”

[imsilay]

LETHAL pt.3

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging (aphrodisiac), stalker!König, obsessive König, breeding k!nk, size k!nk. belly bulge, oral (female receiving) (idk lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 2.6k! (it’s too much for me :’) )

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

prev chapter here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

A few days later you wake up feeling uneasy. You had a headache and somehow… horny. You got up and had a cold shower, hoping it would help. It helped… Untill you had a irresistible urge to have something inside your aching and dripping cunt at the work. It was a strange feeling, you assumed it was like that because it’s your ovulation day. Sitting on the chair while typing away on the laptop at work; you had to squeeze your thighs together to ease that feeling. Your pussy already soaked at the time you arrived to home. You cursed at yourself for wearing that skirt because the wetness between your legs were dripping down from your trembling thighs at the time you arrived your front door. You just wanted to open the door and satisfy your soaking cunt with your toys.

“Maus?” your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. ‘Please god, not him.’ you prayed. That man was extremely attractive and you were down bad for him. You stopped trying to open your damn door with trembling hands as you turned your head towards him and forced a smile. “Hi, König! What are you doing here?” you tried to be polite and calm, but in your head you were screaming for a dick.

"I saw you from over there," he said, pointing at the parking lot next to his apartment building. His accent sent waves of pleasure to your body. "You seemed in a rush. Are you alright?" There was sincerity in his voice and his icy-blue eyes were filled with concern. It made you blush, from cheeks to ears. You swallowed before answering, "It’s nothing important. I just forgot to feed my cat." It was obviously a lie. One of his eyebrows raised, but he nodded and watched as you entered your house after a short goodbye.

You were just so naive and clueless, thinking he wouldn’t notice you’re squirming with need. Of course he would know. He was the one who sneaked into your home and gave you aphrodisiac last night. He just gave you enough to make you needy so you could made it to home after work.

When he saw you getting out of your car, your legs trembling and cheeks flushed, he almost lost it.. He just wanted to drag you to his house and fuck you until you were a babbling and sobbing mess. Yet he managed to keep his calm. He was impatiently waiting for you to enter your house when he already had his eyes on the window, hiding behind the curtains. When you came to view his heart was beating like crazy. You locked the door of your room and opened the drawer, where you put your toys. Too eager for your sweet release you forgot to close your curtains…

He pressed his forehead against the window as he watched you satisfy yourself with different kinds of toys. His cock was rock hard but watching you was much more of an important matter. His cock twitched at the first time you cum, it was a sight to see. Your eyes rolling back as your hips twitched foward to the device. But one wasn’t enough. You needed more.

After two more orgasm you were sobbing and quivering. You just needed something for your aching cunt but nothing was enough. That was when he decided to step in. He was still so hard but he knew whatever he do it wouldn’t soften his cock. But you. He grabbed the keys of his house. And the cookies he made for you as an excuse.

The knocking on your door drew you back to reality from your bliss. You cursed at the person that knocked on the door as you got dressed into something that you’d wear at home. Your legs still trembling and pussy dripping, already soaked the new pair of your panties. You answered the door and hid the half of your body behind the door.

“Hallo, Maus. I brought you some cookies to fix your mood.” he said with that sweet tone. Your hands grabbed the door handle with a force that could kill a man. That was when you decided that. You would fuck that sweet neighbor.

He wondered why you were staring at him without a word. Were you mad at him because he interrupted your sweet time with your toys? Did you notice the bulge that was straining his pants? Or maybe the way he gazed at you hungrily made you feel hesitant to invite him in?

He was too lost in his thoughts, he dropped the cookies when you grabbed his arm and dragged him in. Pressing his back against the door and clinging to his arm. “König.” you whispered before biting your lips to not moan. His heart hammered his chest a few times like it was trying to escape from his chest to you. “Ja, Maus? Is everything okay?” he stuttered as he looked down at you. Your flushed face and the way you looked into his eyes intensely wasn’t helping.

“I need you.” you whimpered and pressed your body against his. “Can you please give me your cock?” you whispered softly and moaned when you felt his already hard cock against your stomach. He was so big. Like you imagined he would be, it made you even more needy.

“You- What?” he stuttered again. The last thing he expected was the way you rubbed your body against him as you pleaded for his cock. He was used to moving with a plan, but the way you ruined it was even better than he could imagine. By the time he collected himself you were grabbing his arm tightly like he would escape from you if you let go. His pupils were blown wide and body tense. “You have no idea what you’re wanting from me, Maus.” he mumbled and picked you up by your hips carrying you to your room like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs around him. The voice in his mind was screaming for him to take you in that moment. You weren’t complaining about being carried yet you were happy that he accepted. So clueless. If only you knew he was the cause of your endless neediness.

He made you straddle one of his thighs after removing your shorts and leaving you with your panties. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck you.” he said with authority in his eyes. You had a feeling that if you didn’t do as he said you won’t be getting anything. So you did. Hands on his shoulders as you grounded against his thigh. The fabric of your already wet panties soaking his trousers. You moaned as you felt his muscular thigh under your dripping cunt. He was so big and toned. You wondered what his cock looked like. Just thinking about it made you moan in need and your walls clenched around nothing.

He had to bit his lip to not moan at the sight in front of him. You were grounding against his thigh soaking his trousers and moaning like a bitch in heat. His cock throbbed in his pants. Oh how he wanted to tear your panties down and eat your little cunt out… Your body trembled and hips twitched. “Already, Maus? I haven’t seen someone cumming as fast as you.” he taunted. Your hips were already moving frantically to reach your sweet release. His hands found your hips groping them as he helped you move on his thigh. “Guess you really want me.” he mumbled amused with your efforts. You looked so hot when you used his body for your pleasure. “‘m so close, König.” you whimpered and your movements got erratic. You feel your stomach tightening up as he helped you ground against his thick thigh. “Let go for me, Maus.” he whispered sweetly. He knew it wouldn’t be enough for you anyway. Not until he filled you up with his big cock.

You gripped his shoulders tight as you cum undone on his thigh, eyes rolling back and body twitching. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he laid you on your back gently and spread open your leg. “Do you still need my cock?” he teased. His hands caressing your thighs up and down slowly. “Yes. Yes, König. Please give it to me.” you pleaded with that sweet voice of yours, you had no idea how he wanted it too. He looked as calm and sweet as ever, but deep inside him, he was putting you into positions that he wanted to take you. First he would eat you out until you cum on his tongue like he imagined all nights. Then he would put you on all fours and pound into your needy cunt until you cream on his cock. This night he would fulfill all his sick fantasies and you would just let him take you over and over.

His calloused and lengthy fingers were making you shiver and imagine them deep inside you. You had to have it. “König, can you please…” you reached a hand and pulled his hand towards your mouth, as he watched you with curiosity. His mind went blank when you took his fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them. “Scheiße-” he groaned and pushed his fingers into your mouth further. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, covering his index and middle finger with your drool. Your eyes rolled back with the rhythm of his fingers. “So fucking needy.” he growled when he pulled his fingers out of your mouth drawing a whine out of you. He quickly pulled down your panties and cursed again when he saw how your slick clinged to your panties leaving a trail. When the panties were gone, he pocketed it, he shoved his fingers into your dripping tight hole. You screamed when he found that sweet spot curling his fingers and hitting there again and again. “oh my-“ your legs trembled and hands gripped the sheets for dear life. It wasn’t long when your fourth orgasm hit you like a truck. “It amazes me how fast you cum, Maus.” he chuckled lightly as he continued to pump his fingers into you through your orgasm.

“That’s enough.” you whined and grabbed his forearm. His brows frowned and he sent you a warning look. You pulled your hands away immediately like you touched fire. “Nein. We aint stopping, Maus. Not until i make sure you’re mine.” he mumbled darkly as he leaned his mouth into your pussy. He licked from bottom to your clit making you shudder and moan loudly. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because you were scared of what he would do. His hands grabbed your thighs firmly to prevent you from closing them. He lapped at your pussy like he was thirsty for a month and you were his only water supply. His mask covering between your legs, where his mouth at, and you was glad it did. Because if you saw him eating you out like that you would’ve gone crazy. His icy-blue eyes found yours when he sucked your clit. The sensation was too much for you especially after cumming that much. “Plea-“ your breath hitched when he forced his tongue inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a high pitched scream. You cum all over his tongue and he gladly accepted your juices. Sucking and lapping hungrily.

“Du schmeckst so süß.” (You taste so sweet.) he mumbled as he licked you up for the last time. He pulled back reluctantly feeling like he could dive in again and make you cum over and over again. “Time for the main course, Maus.” he whispered into your ear. “Would you like to take off my mask? So you can see how much i will enjoy fucking your little cunt.” he purred. He was still gentle yet he made you feel weak. Like you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to. You grabbed the mask with trembling hands and pulled it off. This was the first time you saw him without his mask. He was handsome despite the scar on his face. Before you could say anything he slammed his lips to yours and grabbed your jaw forcing you to part your lips so he could explore your warm mouth with his tongue. You moaned softly and tasted your arousal from his lips. He swiftly unbuckled his belt with one of his hands and tugged his pants down along with his boxers. He groaned into your mouth when his cock was finally free and fully erected. His lips didn’t left yours as he pressed his red tip against your throbbing clit and made you squirm.

“I wonder were you this needy before the aphrodisiac i gave you.” he mumbled after releasing your lips. Your mind was too foggy after all your orgasms you barely understand what he say. “What did-” he cut you off again but this time shoving his cock inside your tight cunt. His tip hit your cervix and made your toes curl. “Too- Fuck. Too deep.” you sobbed. He stretched you out so deliciously but it hurt like hell. He was so fucking big his cock made a bulge on your belly. He groaned as he rested his forehead against yours. “It will be okay. You can take it, Maus.” he cooed. But it felt like he was sliding you open with his monster sized cock. “You feel so good around me.” he mumbled as he placed kisses on your face. He knew he was too big for you. You were so small compared to him, in every way. He let you adjust his length inside you but it become hard for him to not move when your walls clenched around him. “It hurts.” you cried and gripped his shoulders. “I know, Maus. You’re doing so good f’me.” he kissed your lips until your cries wane. You were so much important than him. He worshipped you.

“I’m gonna move.” he whispered and started to thrust into your tight cunt slowly at first. When your pussy adjusted his length, he picked up the pace. He was bullying his cock into your dripping hole with a merciless pace like he was taking revenge of the time he jerked off while watching you through the window. All you could do was dug your nails into his shoulders and scream his name.

“Scheiße.” he hissed. It was just like how he imagined it would be. He imagined your face twisting with pleasure and screaming his name as he bullied his cock into your little cunt. “Louder.” He slammed his hips into yours hard. Your pussy swollen and dripping from all the stimulation. “I said louder.” he hissed and smacked your hips hard. He wouldn’t stop until you did as he said. So you did. You screamed his name as loud as you can. It made his cock twitch hearing you forcing yourself to slur his name out. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he slammed his lips harder into yours. He threw his head back and groaned when you cum unannounced, creaming on his cock and crying his name. Your walls clenched around him drawing him to edge as he fucked the orgasm out of you. “König, i can’t… anymore.” you whimpered between your sobbing. Hearing you beg him with your voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning, made him cum deep inside you. “Mine.” he mumbled as he fucked his cum into you. “You’re mine, Maus. And i won’t let you leave me anymore.” he mumbled like he was talking with himself. It sent chills down to your spine. He didn’t pull his cock out plugging his cum into your pussy. You didn’t even had the strength to push him away. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and put your head onto his chest. He wouldn’t let you go. Never. You were his.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :*

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

this work is basically all the things i want him to do to me.

….

@mitchlow

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love your writing btw! I’ve been perusing it for awhile haha- can we get cuddle headcanons for how the hoyo boyo’s cuddle? (Sunday, Argenti, Ratio, and Gallagher please? And any other ones you’d like!)

Sunday: possessive cuddles.

Probably watches over you in your sleep like a creep.

He will not let you go as you are kept caged to his chest within a firm hold as he slept peacefully.

Even as he slept, Sunday didn’t like you being far away from him and prefers to keep you close to him as humanly possible.

He’ll want you to rest your tired head against his chest and coddle you in his arms all the while pressing kisses into your head and upon your face as his wings fluttered softly, bathing your face with a gentle breeze.

His little wings only fluttered when he was feeling strong emotions such as love, anger, betrayal and happiness for instance. So needless to say you constantly felt his wings flutter softly in your face but you weren’t going to complain for such as cute display. That and the fact that his little wing flutters were great for when the nights got warmer, and when you didn’t want to cuddle up to Sunday as much.

Not like he’d let you, seeing as how he can’t stand you being a mere three inches away from him. He sleeps a lot better knowing that you’re by his side and the soft fluttering of his wings made you more than aware of that.

His preferred cuddling position is: chest rest

Argenti: this man needs to hold you against him as though he were trying to fuse your souls together. He won’t assume any other position that didn’t have you pressed against one another, or touching in some way shape or form.

He’d even press his forehead against your own while pulling you to his chest as his hands drew patters into your side and interlocking your legs either one another.

He craves the feel of your warm skin like no other.

He can’t sleep without your touch at all as he feels as though half of his soul was somewhere he couldn’t be.

He’s being dramatic, you’re literally in the same bed with the smallest amount of space between the two of you.

The downside of cuddling Argenti is that sometimes you’d wake up with a face full of his ruby red hair that oddly smelt of fresh roses. But other than that cuddling with Argenti was soft, warm, comforting and it made you feel safe being in the arms of your charming knight.

His preferred cuddling position would probably be the honeymoon hug.

Gallagher:

Clingy/playful.

This man is hugging you as though you were his personal pillow/plushie.

You weren’t complaining though as the man runs warm like a furnace and you got to have your face smothered into his tits. You were in heaven.

Will personally get offended when you try to move away from him.

‘Stop trying to escape will you? Unless you’ve got to piss, then I’m going to assume you don’t want to cuddle me anymore.’ He’d say groggily as he burrows his face into your neck, playfully biting it as you tried to swat him away.

He may even try to tickle you because he’s bored or can’t sleep, when in reality he just wants to hear you laugh one last time before falling asleep for real. He loves getting to be playful and affectionate with you when your both trying to find sleep. The moments shared during them were real, authentic and something to treasure for the future.

These moments were proven more precious to Gallagher when his dog then joins in on all the fun and slept at the foot of the bed.

His preferred cuddling position would be: leg cradle.

Ratio:

Average at cuddling unless he’s deep in his sleep.

Ratio looks like someone who doesn’t like the feeling of another person pressed up against him in fear of contracting their stupidity like a disease. 💀

The best he’ll do is touch pinkies and or have your backs pressed against one another. That’s it.

However when he’s deep in his sleep, he’ll be the big spoon and cuddle himself into your neck as his arms clutched at your waist firmly. It was cute and sweet in it’s own way, but it be best not to admit this to Ratio when he’s awake as he’ll try to prove why you’re wrong.

He’s secretly a cuddle bug but is too prideful to admit to it, obviously.

He’s a touch staved man who denies all allegations the fact that he’s touch starved and craves your touch to an extent where he feels it borderlines embarrassment. So as a result of his prideful ways, he’s left to yearn for something he couldn’t not and would not bring himself to speak up upon.

Veritas only finds comfort in seeking your touch when your fast asleep and cuddles himself into you back under the guise of being asleep, it was bound to work and work it did.

His preferred cuddling positioning would be: back to back/ spooning.

[written-in-flowers]

His Pet: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubs!Hongjoong x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demon!wooyoung x Fem!reader, demon!Mingi x fem!reader

Word Count: 13k

Genre: hella smut, some angst MINORS DNI

Summary: at the end of her first day, YN spends her night with Master Hongjoong. It's only then she realizes just how different he is from his demon brothers.

Tags: master slave/realationship, bondage, BDSM, mentions of tabbo kinks (watersports/beastiality but it isn't graphic), restraints, sex machines, sex toys, anal sex, anal toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, edging, exhibitionism, dracyphilia, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, handjobs, quickies, dirty talk, pussy slapping, spanking with paddles and whips, whipped, humiliation, degradation, throat fucking, rough oral sex, double penetration, gagging, choking, cockslapping,

Previously on Pretty Pet > Next

***

The grogginess of sleep made you unaware of his presence. You rolled onto your other side, relishing in the cooler half of the bed without noticing him. Your mind clung to the dreamworld, reaching out for a mother you'd lost. Standing in your old bedroom, you saw the old toys and games. The movie and band posters you’d hung still remained on the walls. But, you only saw Her. She stood in the doorway with her warm smile and a glass of milk in her hand. 

‘Having trouble sleeping, angel?’ 

You crumbled onto the shaggy carpet. Every single regret poured out in tears. You begged her for forgiveness; for leaving her alone, for abandoning her, and cutting her out of your life. You knew how much she loved you, and you resented her anyway. You reached out for her, moving to touch her before long black claws pulled you away. The pain they left in your skin felt so real. The last few wisps of fruity perfume and trickles of warmth brushed off you as they drew you into the darkness.  

“Mama…” you groaned, slipping between your new bedroom and your childhood room. She was right there in the doorway, her hair and skin so much similar to yours. Maybe that was why he hit her. She reminded him of you, his biggest mistake. 

“Ma…”

“Is that another kink of yours?”

Instantly pulled from your dreams, you bolted upright to see Hongjoong standing by your bed. Arms crossed, he greeted you with an amused smile. After your bath in Seonghwa’s apartment, you came back to your room for a nap. You hadn’t seen the point in putting on clothes, so you’d fallen asleep naked. Yet, to Hongjoong, you might as well be wearing a sweater and pants for all the notice he took. Sitting up, you forced yourself out of sleep to fully take him in. 

“I personally prefer ‘Daddy’ when the mood strikes me,” he continued, “But Mama can be fun. Would you like me to wear a dress for that or-”

“-What do you mean?” You stammered, pushing hair aside. 

“You called me ‘Mama’,” he said, “Unless you're having dreams about someone else?”

“No, of course not.”

Hongjoong giggled, “Liar.” 

He flopped down on the bed beside you, groaning in relief as he sunk into it. You noticed he wore a regular black t-shirt and jeans, far removed from the sleek, polished look he'd sported before. The distinct smell of sweat and blood came from him, mixed with his sweet pheromone. You guessed he’d come straight from work. It equally disgusted and fascinated you.  

“Do you always have dreams about your mother?” He asked, eyes closed.

“Not always. Just sometimes.”

“Was it because of San? He says he's always wanted his own family, you know, outside of Seonghwa and me.” He scoffed, “It's boring and dumb.”

“I guess it was. Do you have those?”

“No. My mother doesn't come around often, only when she wants something from me. She popped me out and then walked away.”

“She did?”

“Yup,” he nodded, hands behind his head. “I saw her two or three times in childhood, but that was a long time ago. I have no idea where she is anymore. She stays up in the human world, corrupting and possessing souls.” 

“Do you miss her?”

“Can't miss someone you never knew. I suppose you knew yours?”

“I did, but I wasn't very kind to her when I grew up. I stopped talking to her after I moved out.”

“Is that why you asked her to forgive you?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, sad,” he said, but he didn't sound very sad to you. “You're here, so there isn't anything you can do for her. We're your new family now,” he put his hand on your thigh, gently brushing his thumb back and forth. “You be a good pet and do what we ask,” he yawned, “And we'll take care of you.” He laid in your bed a minute before he said, “And you'll obviously take care of us. Since, you know, you made both your handlers cum in minutes.”

“Master Seonghwa told me to-”

“-To give Yeosang a handjob, I know,” he said, hand sliding up your thigh. “But, did you have to torture poor Jongho? He's the youngest and sweetest of us and you tortured him with your beautiful body.”

“I didn't do anything he didn't want already. I turned around and there he was,” you shrugged. “I would've felt bad sending him away when he was already so hard.”

“So,” Hongjoong began, unbuckling his pants, “If I ever start jerking off in front of you, you'll let me watch?”

“Would I have a choice?”

“Not really, but,” he put his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your sex, “It's not as if you'd say no. I have a feeling you like demon dick quite a lot.” He withdrew himself from his trousers, and you saw him already semi-hard in his hand. “Is it because they're longer or thicker or both?” 

“I'm not wholly sure, honestly,” you admitted, holding your breath as he began tracing circles on your pussy. You laid back on the bed beside him, so he had more access to you. “It just feels better.”

“You're not wrong there,” he chuckled, stroking himself in time with his touches on you. “I love it more than anything, personally. I used to fuck humans in the living world, but nothing quite beats demons. But, don't take that to heart,” he said, “I still love human pussy just as much. Particularly yours.”

You rolled onto your side, resting against him for a better feel of his hand. “And why is that?” You took him in your hand, earning a low groan. 

“Because you take my dick so well,” he said, sliding two fingers inside you. The both of you kept slow paces on each other, neither of you in a hurry, “Most human slaves have trouble the first time, but this right here fits around me perfectly. It's almost as if this pussy was made for me,” he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “Always wet and ready to be fucked. Is that why you slept naked? Were you hoping one of us would come here and take advantage of you?”

“I don't know what you mean,” you said, stroking him languidly. “This is when I'm most comfortable.”

“Good to know,” he said, keeping his fingers inside and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Because this is how I want you when you're with me.”

“Nude and aching for you?”

He laughed, “The aching is optional. I want you naked all the time. Less layers means less to worry about.” He pulled fingers from you and did slow circles around your clit. “I can get to this right away.”

“Stay still,” he ordered with a harsh slap, lips against yours, “Stay fucking still.”

He captured your lips with his, the both of you moaning together. Hooking his hand around your knee, he pulled you up onto him. The sudden crash of his dick to your cunt added more pressure between your thighs.

Carnivals. Fairs. Candy shops. The faint scent of cotton candy had you rutting against him. Hongjoong carried the sweet aroma that brought you back to childhood. It seeped into your pores and became one with your natural scents. You might as well feel drugged with how it added to your desires. You moaned each time the bulb of his cock pushed into your clit. A hand in your hair, and another on your thigh, Hongjoong kept you still as he grinded against you. Each time you tried moving, he laid a hard smack to your ass. 

“Yes, Master,” you whined, feeling his cock nearly press into your entrance. 

He continued kissing you deeply. Your fingers clenched around the pillow underneath him, you took every bit of strength to not hump him like a dog. Hongjoong, while smaller and skinnier than his brothers, carried the same strength as them. He kept you firmly pressed to him without a problem, and his smacks burned your skin each time. You whined and moaned into his mouth whenever his length slid over you. His mere grinding couldn’t scratch the itch inside you. Your walls clenched for him, trying to grab the head that constantly brushed close to it. Your hand slid up his neck to his cherry red hair, and you tugged in a way that made him growl. Hongjoong returned this by keeping you dangling over that frustrating barrier of denial and relief. You could feel the thin ridges brushing your clit, making you gyrate into him involuntarily. 

“I said ‘stay still’,” he said between kisses, switching cheeks and slapping the left side. “Impatient whore,” he groaned, “Can’t even wait for cock.”

“I want it so badly, Master,” you whined in a kiss. “Please, let me have it. Please, please. I promise I’ll be good for you all night. Please.”

“You’re not being very good right now,” he noted, “With you grinding against me when I told you not to.” He made a few hard slaps on either cheeks, causing you to cry out in pain. “How do I know you’ll be good for me tonight?”

“I promise I will,” you said, forcing yourself to be still as he started grinding faster, “I promise, I promise.”

He laughed at your whimpering, “I don't think so. You're going to have to prove it. Lay down for me.”

You moved to lay on your back, lips crashing with his right away, when the door opened. Jongho appeared by the corner of the bed, doing his best not to notice your body or your position. 

“Master Hongjoong,” he said stiffly, “Dinner will be served soon. Wooyoung is here to dress YN for dinner.”

A bit of aggravation reached the pit of your stomach. You saw annoyance flicker in Hongjoong’s eyes before he turned to look down at you. 

“I suppose we will have to finish this later, Pet,” he said with a defeated sigh. 

“But, Master,” you pouted, “Can you relieve me at least a little bit?”

“I'm afraid not now,” he kissed you one final time. It was passionate and slow, tongues sliding and bodies molding together for a few brief seconds. “But, if Wooyoung or Jongho wish to help you get there, I won’t be opposed to it. A little finger or tongue action is just what my pet needs,” he pushed hair from your face and kissed you again. “You can tell me all about it when we’re alone tonight,” he whispered. 

You kept him close to you by his forearms, “But I only want you tonight, Master.”

He grinned, “You’ll have me, but I think I have an idea of how slutty our pet can get. I told Seonghwa it’s ridiculous to make you deny your own desires. You’re a pleasure slave. Seeking out pleasure is what you do best.” He pushed into you a few times, smiling in your next kiss. “So, do what comes naturally to you, slut, and enjoy whoever you like. My only rule is,” he squeezed both your breasts, “Nobody goes inside your cunt but me. Your holes belong to me, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me, why can't the others be in your pussy?” 

“Because my holes belong to my master,” you said, knowing what he wanted to hear. 

He beamed, “You listen well. Good.” 

Hongjoong gave you another kiss while he put himself together again. Even when he finished zipping up, he kept kissing you. You suspected if Jongho did not insist, he would have given into his desires for you sooner. 

“It’ll be equally hard for me too,” he confessed, briefly kissing you, “But Seonghwa will bitch if we’re not at dinner.” 

He finally lifted himself off the bed, fixing his shirt and taking deep breaths. Jongho bowed his head as Hongjoong exited the room. The two of you alone, Jongho addressed you. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “But dinner is an important thing around here. Master Seonghwa and Master San insist you be there and look your best.” 

“I figured,” you grunted, your arousal radiating between your thighs. You swore you could almost feel him still there; his thickness spreading you apart in each thrust before sticking it inside you. “But, did you have to come in right now?”

“I was ordered to,” he said, “You know how it is. Besides, it isn’t like he won’t do it later anyways. Come on. Bath time, little pet.” 

You slid off the bed, shaking Hongjoong from your system as you waited on Jongho to prepare your bath. Someone walked in right as you stepped into the water. 

“There she is,” Wooyoung beamed, two of his purple-clad assistants entering the bathroom, “I heard through the grapevine you had quite a time with San and Seonghwa. You must be something special for them to be so weak for you.” He looked in a mirror, nearly seducing himself as he fixed his hair around his upturned horns. “I’ve never seen them so excited by a human before.”

“She is special,” Jongho smiled knowingly. He’ll never forget your moment in the bathroom, which pleased you. 

“I hope I should be so lucky one day,” Wooyoung winked at you. “I’ve never had a human before.”

“Wooyoung, do not say such things,” Jongho said. “The Masters might hear you.”

“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes, “As if they haven’t thought about it. Everyone knows what a horndog Hongjoong is, and his brothers aren’t saints either. Sungmi, Kyla,” he called to the two assistants setting up a nail station in the bathroom, “Black stilleto shape with black rhinestones for tonight.” He looked down at you, putting you into a frame with his hands, “Yes, I have the perfect vision. You are going to be drop dead gorgeous when I’m done with you. The Masters won’t be able to control themselves.”

“Hopefully they’ll manage to keep it in through dinner,” Jongho said, running a thin, mint-scented oil in your hair. “Cook worked so hard on Master Seonghwa’s menu. It’d be a shame to see it wasted.”

Wooyoung came around the tub, and took over your hair from Jongho. Smooth fingers ran from the nape of your neck to the very ends, spreading the oil as much as your hair let him. Something sensual laid in these delicate touches. Wooyoung’s fingers continued briefly touching your neck, and you felt him staring down into the murky waters. You couldn’t help sensing that Wooyoung did not normally aid in the bathing portion of the process. When the both of them finally finished, your suspicions were proven true. 

“Wow,” he breathed, gazing down at your wet body, “Yeosang has every right to hope you're put in the greenhouse. Dennis can always use a few helping hands.”

“Wooyoung!” Jongho snapped, “She’s not for you.”

“Who's Dennis?”

“I know that,” he retorted, ignoring your question. “I’m only saying she looks good. I wouldn’t bother dressing her at all if I had her walking around my house.” 

“Ugh, you’re so obscene,” Jongho rolled his eyes. 

He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drying you off quickly before sliding you to the nail station where one of the assistants sat. You rested back on the chair as the two assistants began cleaning, shaping, and painting your nails as instructed. The beaded patterns glittered whenever you wiggled your fingers. You never painted your nails black because of the rumors that it damages your nails. Yet, you admitted this had a nice effect. 

When they finished your nails, Jongho led you into the dressing room where Wooyoung stood. You saw more assistants plucking things off shelves and racks to present to their employer. Wooyoung stood by the vanity table, arranging makeup for you. He came over, lifting up your nails to examine them. 

Jongho groaned, “It’s probably about her bedtime routine. He’s so damn picky. I swear I wanna…Ugh!”

“Well done,” he told the nail artists, “You may go.” They bowed and left the room. “Jongho,” he called to him, “Yeosang was in here a few minutes ago asking for you. He seemed a bit more heated than usual.”

He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Wooyoung waited for his assistants to finish putting an outfit together, then he dismissed them as well. Your body clenched when you heard him close the dressing room doors. The sounds in the room became stifled by the surrounding shelves and items absorbing them. He walked over to the vanity where he started working on your hair. You caught him giving you glances as he fixed your hair into his preferred style. He came around, picking up a bottle of foundation. You didn’t know how he got your exact shade, but you assumed ‘magic’. 

“You sure you’re not part demon?” he asked, applying foundation to your face with a brush. 

“I am.”

“You look like it,” he said. He added concealer next, dabbing it where needed. “You’re way too pretty to be a normal human. If you’re not a cambion, a half-demon, then somebody took a little more time with you for sure.” He lightly dusted a finishing powder on the base, then grabbed blush. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he put down the blush, and put his hands on your shoulders, “I’m quite fond of beautiful things.” 

Light fingers pulled at the opening of your robe. You had the urge to close it back up, but something about his touch stopped you. Like so many other human-presenting demons you’d met, a pheromone released from him in scents you liked. Wooyoung’s was the expensive Chanel perfume you once wore. You found it drastically unfair. He let your robe fall off your shoulders, and sighed at the sight of you. Goosebumps covered your arms as he dragged his fingers down your neck to your shoulders. 

“It must benefit you in so many ways,” he said in a mesmerized voice. He picked up a tube of lipstick, and applied it smoothly. “The power that beauty and sex appeal wield is astounding. Nobody likes to admit that pretty privilege is real, even in the underworld. The slaves with the prettiest faces and the nicest holes get better treatment over the plain faces. The succubi with the most delicious bodies make ten times more than any regular demon or human ever could,” He finished his work and observed you in the mirror. “Those who have a special preference for humans only pay top-price for the pretty ones…The ones,” his fingers traced your collarbone as he bent down to your ear, “Who can’t get enough of it earn the most and are the most expensive.” Finally, he reached your breasts, which he gently cupped. Your body instantly warmed at his touch.

“I learned a little bit about you from the slavers in the city. I casually mentioned that three of Prince Asmodeus’s sons recently acquired a human pleasure slave by your name. Some of them knew you from auctions where they’d been outbid, and other claimed they’d fucked each of your lovely holes…” he grazed your nipples, watching them harden against his fingers, “They say you’re perfectly broken. You don’t resist or refuse demon cock anymore, they said. Is that true?” he rolled your nipples in his fingers until you whimpered, “Do you prefer big demon dick over pathetic human ones now?”

“I do enjoy them,” you admitted, your sex starting to throb. 

“Gods…” he breathed against your neck, “I’d kill to fuck you right now. The most I’m allowed is the other holes and your pretty hands.” He smiled when you moaned, watching his hands grope your chest in the mirror. “Turn around for me. I want to look at you again before I have to dress you.”

On shaky legs, you faced him. Your standing position caused your robe to fall to your wrists on the table. Wooyoung drank in the sight of your body, licking his lips as he started playing with your breasts again. This new feeling reignited the stirring in your loins. Wooyoung’s hot tongue slid over your hardening nipples, the slippery tongue rapidly swirling around each one. When you reached for his groin, feeling him hot and hard in your hand, he moved closer to you. 

“You can take it out,” he whispered, “See what you could have with me some time.” 

You unbuckled and unzipped him, gasping at the large bulge poking through his underwear. “This is why I love demons so much,” you said, rubbing him with his own boxers, “They’re always so big.” 

“I saw how well you can take them,” he said, teasing your nipples. “I’d love to experience it myself one night.”

Wooyoung pulled down his boxers to free himself, and you started stroking him with both hands. He let out a long, drawn out groan as you worked him. He bent down to your breasts, and took one in his mouth. The tip of his tongue flicked over the peaks each time you reached his thick head. You let out a giggle when he started pushing into your stationary hands, grunting against your tits. 

“You really wish you could fuck me, huh?” you asked, putting his hand to your heat and smiling when he felt how wet he’d made you. “How often have you thought of wrecking my tight human holes, hm?”

“Ever since I watched you fuck them,” he groaned, holding your tits in his hands and pushing upwards. “You sounded so sweet taking dick until you couldn’t think straight. I wanted to run there and get a turn or two. But, I’ll settle for this right now.”

You gasped when two fingers slipped into you. Like Wooyoung, you began riding his hand and grinding your clit into his palm every so often. The two of you stayed by the table, grunting and moaning as you pleasured one another. He was right, of course. If you had no power on your own, your looks and sexual expertise can get you anything. Why should you not indulge in what makes you happy? As long as nobody stuck their dick in you, your masters did not seem to mind. At least, Hongjoong does not and you’re running on his schedule now.

“Keep going,” Wooyoung breathed, pushing his fingers to your hips while fucking into your hands, “Fuck yes, just like that. Keep fucking my hand like that.”

The two of you came together, hard and trembling in each other’s hands as you did. Spurts of white shot over your lower belly while you drenched his hand. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, while you leaned back onto the table. Finally getting the relief you needed, you did not mind when Wooyoung removed his fingers.

“Good,” he breathed, looking at your makeup, “I didn’t mess anything up. Let’s clean this and get you dressed, yeah?”

Business as usual. To Wooyoung, you might have not even given him a handjob. You cleaned yourself well enough to avoid discomfort later, while he started sliding you into a lace and satin lingerie set. Then, you pulled on a black silk dress that went to your feet. The backless, spaghetti strap number resembled the gowns you used to wear at fancier parties. It shimmered in black sequins, and gave a nice contrasting color to the silver snakes dangling from your earlobes. 

Jongho reappeared right as you slid your feet into matching heels. You knew right away he sensed something, but he refrained from saying anything.

“She’s ready,” Wooyoung said, spraying perfume around you. “They’re going to love her.”

Jongho led you out of the dressing room right away, “Mingi, take YN to the dining room. I have to talk to our resident stylist.”

Mingi nodded in understanding, then walked you into the hallway. Still recovering from your quick one with Wooyoung, you forced yourself to gain the energy to be around your masters. You imagined Jongho giving the stylist a harsh scolding for indulging his desires and making you late for dinner. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve wondered what the big deal about being a little bit late was, but you did know better. 

As you walked, you noticed Mingi. Long and broad, you expected him to make loud thumps when he walked, but instead he moved quieter than a shadow. You also saw he did not wear the armor or weapons most demonic bodyguards wore in palaces like the Black Keep.

“Where are your weapons?” you asked inquisitively. “Don’t big bad warriors wear loads of them?” 

“They do, but I got these.” He flicked his right wrist as a sharp blade poked out of his cuff. “I don’t carry heavy stuff. It slows me down and gets in the way. My job is to protect you inside the keep, so I don’t need anything but these.”

“So, if somebody breaks into my room-”

“-I’ll be prepared for that. I’ve been fighting most of my life, YN. Children of Satan are trained in combat from the time we’re very small.”

“Satan?”

“Prince of Wrath. He’s one of the seven princes of Inferno,” he explained. “You didn’t know that?”

“I’ll admit I don’t know much about this place. I sort of landed here and that was it.”

“Ignorance keeps the human population under control,” he said. “But, I’m sure Master Seonghwa will teach you all about that.” 

“With the college schedule he’s giving me, I’m sure I will.” You both walked past the open windows, and you saw how in the darkness between each window, Mingi seemed to disappear. “What the…”

“I’m a shadow demon,” he said, answering the question you didn’t ask. “We blend into darkness pretty well. I got it from my mother.”

“Did you know her or are you like The Masters?”

“She was my mentor in school. She wasn’t very maternal, but she was at least there to teach me valuable skills.”

“Like how to blend into the dark?”

“Yes.” You then heard the smugness as he said, “I guess you can say shadow demons are born in the darkness.” 

“And what about the others? Do you know anything about them?”

“Yeosang is my cousin through my father's father's father's uncle,” he said, “And Jongho isn’t royalty at all. His parents were trickster demons, which is how he’s able to sort of appear and disappear like he does. Yunho is the grandson of a son whose mother married a son of a cousin to one of Prince Mammon's children. He's the Prince of Greed, which makes him the perfect person to run a household’s finances,” he chuckled. “Wooyoung’s somebody’s great-great-great-great offspring of one of King Lucifer’s half-breed children, but I don’t believe that. I think he’s just another vain demon looking for a bit of fame and attention. I wasn’t surprised when I heard he screws people in a room of mirrors.”

“Huh, interesting.”

“And, you probably already know, but The Masters are sons of Asmodeus, Prince of Lust. Their mother was a succubi, hence why she’s not interested in being a mother to her sons,” he said, guiding you closer to the dining room.

You pitied the three brothers. Your father might have been a mean bastard, but you had your mother, the nicest woman you’d ever known. If she’d left, you’d face your father’s rage all alone. As you reached the dining room, you recalled your dream. Even with a battered face, your mother took care of you. She was the shield between you and your father. She sacrificed for you, and you called her pathetic and weak, promising to never be like her. You wondered where she was, as you sat in your seat at the table, and if she was okay. Your father was still alive when you died, which left her alone.

God, you’re a cruel bitch. 

All three masters sat at the dining table. Clearly, they’d changed from their work clothes into dinner clothes. You’ll say that your masters showed dedication to their aesthetics. Seonghwa wore a ruffled shirt with a red-wine cravat pinned with a dark ruby brooch; San kept his button down shirt and tie neat and crisp, while Hongjoong wore a satin black shirt unbuttoned halfway with black pants. A hearty spread laid out on the table, with wine cups being regularly filled by nearby maids. 

Jongho served you himself, placing a piece of salmon with an apple and kale salad; he added a bread roll before pouring you white wine. You noticed your masters feasted on different meals: San had a protein packed plate of steak and eggs, while Seonghwa ate from a light pasta dish. Hongjoong had nothing on his plate, but instead drank red wine. 

“-Hongjoong, you must eat,” said Seonghwa, twirling pasta on his fork. 

“I am,” said Hongjoong. “I’m eating grapes.”

“I mean food, Hongjoong. You’ll need energy for tonight. At least some bread and butter if you won’t-oh, Hongjoong, you are such a child.”

Hongjoong produced a bag of chips from nowhere, and munched on them pointedly. “Anyways,” Hongjoong continued, “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me-”

“-Hmpf-”

“-I told him if he wanted to escape Inferno, he should have stayed a regular mayor instead of becoming a dictator,” Hongjoong shrugged. “The man ordered the deaths of millions of people, tortured political prisoners, stole and cheated his allies and is surprised he is in Hell?”

Seonghwa snorted, “They don't think it's real until they're dead and sitting in your chair.” He quietly ate more pasta, then dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. 

“What did you do to him?” San asked curiously before chewing a piece of steak. 

“The same things he used to have done to the people he imprisoned,” Hongjoong replied. “I figure he has a day or two more until he's broken. Then he'll be shipped to wherever he's supposed to go.”

“We had a similar guy in the arena today,” San said. “A murderer who killed dozens of women for years. He said he was sorry and wanted to earn his way out.” San snickered, “Nayeon took him out in seconds. She takes enjoyment in the men, I've noticed.”

“Likely because they're scumbags,” Hongjoong suggested. “Anybody win today?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not a single one. But, the crowds don't like it when they win, so it works out.”

You chewed quietly on your dinner as they continued discussing work. It was when Hongjoong shifted in his seat casually that you felt his hand on your knee. A piece of salad nearly caught in your throat, but you concealed it with a gulp of wine. 

“How was your first day, Darling?” San asked. 

“It was…fine.” Hongjoong’s fingers gradually pulled your dress up to your knees, bunching the skirt above them. You sat entirely still, and continued eating. He’d be excited to know this wasn’t your first under-the-table act. 

“Just fine? I like to think I made it a little bit better than ‘fine’,” he scoffed. “Especially with how I fucked you into the table.” 

“It has to be because of you,” said Seonghwa. “I know when I had her, she loved every second of it. Yeosang even helped.”

“Did he?”

“He cleaned her up for me, since I had to go back to work,” he said. “She worked him afterwards, and from what Jongho told me,” he smirked over a fork of pasta, “It was interesting, to say the least.” 

“How so?” Hongjoong asked, hand brushing your inner thigh. 

“He said the two of them berated each other the entire time,” he replied. 

“Ah, hate sex,” Hongjoong nodded in understanding. He glanced over at you, “Sounds like our pet has a range of different interests. I can’t wait to try them all,” he slid his hand back down your thigh, creating a warmth in your panties. “I bet it’s like one of those swirl lollipops. Every lick and bite has a different flavor to it,” he licked his lips and drank from his wine cup. 

Seonghwa finished a bite of pasta when he noticed the position. He caught your eyes, raised his eyebrows, and then smirked. 

“Can’t you at least get through dinner, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked him. 

“I have no idea what you mean, Brother,” he said as he delicately pressed your panties into your sex. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” San snapped his fingers, drawing Seonghwa’s attention from you. “Your collar. It came earlier today.”

“Ooh, yes!” Hongjoong said, giving you a quick rub before pulling away completely. “I saw Yeosang bringing it in.”

“My collar?” you recalled Jongho mentioning it to you, but you hadn't expected it so soon. 

San clicked his fingers, and Yeosang appeared in the corner in a puff of smoke. He held a black box between his hands, which he walked around and placed in front of you. You stared at the box in surprise. You gazed up to the three demons sitting in front of you. 

“Go on,” San beckoned, “Open it.”

You flipped open the clasp to find it sitting on velvet layers. Black lace with a rose pattern, three singular onyx gems hung from black chains. It was far more expensive than any collar you previously wore. When you examined it further, you saw a large onyx in the middle. On it, you saw they'd engraved a sigil of a snake wrapped around a thorny rose. 

“In case you get lost,” Seonghwa explained when you lifted the choker by the middle gem. “Everyone will know where to bring you.”

In case you got lost…

Or if you ran away?

“Here, let me.” 

Hongjoong stood up, took the choker from you, and clasped it comfortably on you. It was then that you saw it. Hanging from his belt was a black whip. A cat-o-nine tails whip reached from his waist to his knee. That whip likely welted and spliced lots of skin in its time. You wondered when he’d use it on you. Hongjoong ignored your staring and crouched beside you. He straightened the lace, and gems before admiring you. Rough fingers sent goosebumps down your arms as they traced the lace and tugged it gently. 

“Good thing it's elastic,” he said, thumb touching your jaw, “That way it won't break when I tug on it.”

“We will get you more as time goes on,” Seonghwa said. “But we wanted your first collar to be nice.” 

“How about dessert?” San asked, snapping his fingers for a maid to take his plate from the table. “Then maybe watch an arena fight. They broadcast them now.”

“Pet and I already have plans” Hongjoong said, looking you up and down, “So we'll pass tonight. Won't we, Pet?”

“Yes, Master,” you replied with the same seductive drip in your voice. He reached a hand to your throat, thumb ring cold on your warm skin, as he touched the collar again. “Does it look nice on me?”

“Very,” he said, sliding his thumb under it for a moment. “It’ll look better when you’re wearing nothing but this.” He inhaled your scent, and grinned, “Did someone have a little fun before dinner?”

“Maybe,” you said, turning to face him. “You did say I could enjoy myself.”

“I did,” he confirmed, still touching your neck, “With who?”

“Wooyoung. He couldn’t seem to resist me.”

He laughed softly, “Not many people can. I’m tempted to throw you on the table and pound you right here myself.” He brought you closer to him by the chin, thumb tracing your lower lip, “But then my brothers might join and I want you to myself.”

“As if she’d want just you after what I did to her today,” said Seonghwa. 

“And what did you do to her?”

“I made her squirt,” he taunted him, smiling cockily at him. “I don’t think she’s ever cummed so hard until she had my tongue and fingers. Imagine what my dick could do if I tried hard enough.”

“Pet,” Hongjoong pouted, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? Where was that last night? I think we did plenty to make you do that.”

“I don't know,” you answered, touching the wrist near your neck and rubbing gently, “It just happened. Don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, hand sliding across your jaw and bringing you to his lips. “The thought of it alone makes me hard,” he groaned. “That's my mission tonight. No matter how long we go at it, I'm making you squirt again.”

“I look forward to it,” you assured him, kissing him again. 

“I don't see the big deal,” San shrugged, sipping from his wine glass. “If you do it with me, that's great, but it's fine if you don't either.”

“Would you like me to do it for you, Master San?” you looked over at him, batting your lashes. 

“Absolutely,” he said, scooting his chair over to you. Like his older brother, he ran his fingers over your collar before kissing you. “I only mean if you didn’t, I won’t be a baby about it like Hongjoong.”

“I wouldn’t be a baby about it,” Hongjoong retorted. 

“You so would,” he remarked. “I only care about making you cum around me when I’m deep inside,” he said to you in a low voice. “I love bulging your tummy whenever I go deep enough.”

“I’ve noticed,” you said, “And I love you cumming inside me.” You pecked his lips. This. This is what you started enjoying: keeping them hanging on your words and giving into the natural instincts. You kissed him again before saying, “I love feeling full of you.” 

“Is that so?” Seonghwa stood behind your chair, hands on your shoulders as he kissed your ear, “I will admit it is hard to not be tempted by you, Kitten. I’ve never had a slave who so eagerly comes to me before,” he kissed your neck, “Honestly come to me, not because she was paid to do it.”

“How can I refuse when you treat me so well?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “I can be a pain in the ass and end up back in a brothel, where I’m nobody. I can be defiant and get whipped every day-”

“-You say that like it’s a bad thing-” interrupted Hongjoong.

“-Or I can be a good girl,” you said to Seonghwa, locking eyes with him so he didn’t look away, “And be put in pretty clothes, eat good food, drink wine and have as much sex as my masters want. Mingi says you’re all pretty important people. I spent most of my previous life injecting myself into the lives of important, powerful people to get what I want. It’s really nothing I haven’t done before.” You touched the jewel pin of his cravat, lightly brushing under his chin. “As the saying goes, you get more bees with honey than with vinegar.” 

“And you certainly taste like honey.”

He kissed you first, cupping your jaw and opening your mouth slowly. San and Hongjoong looked on as Seonghwa’s tongue slid against yours, brushing your lower lip from time to time. 

“Too bad you’re with Hongjoong tonight,” he said, breaking away from you. “I’d love to make you cum like that again in my own bed.”

“As if you can’t do that any other time.”

The two of you laughed before Hongjoong interrupted with his own kiss. “You’re mine tonight,” he said, lifting you by the chin as he continued kissing you, “All mine.” He turned to his brothers, “You two enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

Turning with you in his arms, his lips went right back to yours. His hunger for you showed in the harsh kisses and soft grunts. He clawed at pieces of clothing until they nearly ripped, tossing them aside in the hallway. Fire ignited inside the both of you. You drowned yourself in his warmth and scent, as you’d done with his brothers. Being in his arms reminded you of all the random encounters you’d have in your previous life. The hot guys you met at bars or clubs often ended up in your bed late at night. This was the same except the man holding you up against the staircase landing was a demon. A demon who owned you now. He could do whatever he liked with you, and you couldn’t resist him. 

Not that you wanted to, anyway.

His thigh between your legs, he tugged down your bra and sucked your nipples firmly. He unclasped the garment, then flung it to a corner of the staircase before guiding you up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, against the railing, Hongjoong licked down to your panties and tore them off. By the time you reached the bedroom door, you were completely naked. 

San preferred bright, vintage colors. Seonghwa favored the decadence and refinement of old money. Hongjoong, on the other hand, embraced his demonic side. Crimson walls with black bat motifs flying around blooming roses covered the room from black border to border. Red cushions were upholstered by black wood, and black furry rugs covered the hardwood floors. On the walls, Hongjoong hung paintings of various erotic scenes and displayed statues of half naked figures in suggestive poses. You also couldn't help noticing the armoire pressed against a wall.

“Stay here,” he placed a few more kisses on your lips before leaving you for the tall wardrobe. He opened the top drawer, sliding on a pair of black latex gloves as he perused the contents inside. The aching he left behind felt cold and empty. “From the moment you step into my apartment, I want you naked the entire time. It makes things easier in the long run, you know?”

“Yes, Master.”

Standing in the cold room, you wished he'd let you stand by the crackling fireplace. The sudden heat he’d fanned died the longer he made you wait. You thought about touching yourself to keep it going, but that might upset Hongjoong. You looked him over once more. His whip hung from his belt loop casually, like a piece of jewelry or a fashion accessory. He likely wore it to scare the other servants in the house. It certainly sent shivers up your spine. When he finally made his decision, he brought out a wrist and ankle cuff set to you. Black with furry edges, you saw the loops on the inner parts of the cuffs. 

“Hold out your wrists.”

You held them out and he placed one on each wrist. Tightening the belt, he asked you, “Is it too tight?”

“No.”

“Alright, good. Your ankles.”

He put similar cuffs around both ankles, and he withdrew a matching leash from his back pocket. He clasped it to your collar. You worried the slightest tug might break the fine lace, but Hongjoong tested this with a few light pulls. Deciding it was durable enough, he wrapped the end of the leash around his hand. 

“This way,” he said. 

You went with him to the middle of the room where he could admire you in the firelight. Round eyes scanned over your face and body, as if truly seeing you for the first time. 

“You really are the most beautiful human I've seen,” he concluded, eyes clouded by lust as he continued eyeing your body. He removed his whip from his belt and walked towards you. He trailed the end of the whip from your cleavage to the middle of your thighs lightly, the touch making you shudder. “And so responsive too,” he sneered, “I like that.” He stepped closer to you, “I like the loud ones. Whimpering and whining always turns me on, but screaming? Crying? Pleading? That…” he huffed a laugh, “That gets me going.” He let the fringes of his whip swing over your thighs ominously. Hongjoong drew closer, lips pressed to your ear, “Will you scream for me, Pet?”

“If you…wish, Master.”

He chuckled darkly, sending more nerves up your spine. He waved his leather whip over your nipples next, pleased as they slowly hardened. 

“Don’t you have a schedule for me?” you asked, knowing it’d come sooner or later.

“Schedule?” he asked, confused. 

“Yeah, your brothers had these schedules for me to follow on my days with them. I thought you had one too?”

“Do you want one?”

“What else would I do on your days otherwise?”

“Me,” he said slyly, pecking your lips. “But, I suppose you should have some kind of structure. Seonghwa is always saying stuff like ‘idle hands make idle minds’ or something dumb like that,” he shook his head, “I didn’t really want much from you other than you submitting to me, which clearly isn’t going to be a problem.” He thought about it while he traced your curves with his whip, “Training could be a thing.”

“Training?”

“Anal training, throat training, pain resistance training, and something else,” he waved it off, “I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t have to give me one, if you’d rather not.”

“No, no, I’ll think of something eventually. You do need a proper routine,” he said. “All pets need good training. How else are you going to serve me properly?” An idea then came to him, “I can ask Yunho! He’s good at discipline and he’d love to teach you. Perhaps Mingi? But he might get caught up in the pleasure of it, and Yunho is bigger than him so he can train your holes properly.” He thought about it quietly, idly brushing you with his whip. “Eh, I’ll consider it. Sit with me for a bit,” he said, bringing you over to the loveseat in front of the fire. 

Pulling you onto his lap, he gently ran his fingers up and down your bare legs lazily. Coming up to your thighs, he gave the outer one a tender squeeze. His touch kindled the burning embers within you. You leaned to kiss him softly, tasting the leftover wine and feeling his tongue on yours. Kissing your masters quickly became your favorite thing.

“I feel like I’ve hardly scratched the surface with you,” he said, breaking away from you, “While my brothers find out all kinds of stuff about you.”

“What would you like to know?” you asked, already sensing the question. 

“Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done. Go.” 

“Ugh,” you thought about it with distaste, “You’d think it’s tame.”

“Tell me anyways,” he encouraged. 

“I had sex in my office in front of the big windows looking at the building across the street.”

“Hm,” he considered it, then said, “That is incredibly tame.”

“Told you. What about you?”

“Huh, I’m not sure,” he mused. “I haven’t really thought about it before…”

“Grossest thing then.”

“Golden shower?” he guessed. “We pissed on her.”

“Did you like that?” You hoped not. 

“Not really, no,” he shook his head. “I realized then I’m not into watersports like that. I don’t rag on people who do, but it’s not for me really.” He then thought for a moment, “I did jerk off to one of the maids trying to hold her pee in until she couldn’t hold it anymore and pissed on herself.”

“Gross,” you said with disgust. 

“I’m just saying I did it. I wouldn’t do it again, since the smell started bugging me, but I did it. Would you…Are you into that?”

“No,” you said right away. 

“You wouldn’t even want to try it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s gross, that’s why.”

“Huh…That’s a shame.”

“You said you wouldn’t do it again!”

“With her!” he elaborated. “I wouldn’t mind watching you do that. I’ll let you wear underwear for it, if you want-”

“-Ew, gross.” 

“You’re lucky you’re even getting a choice in that.”

“Anything you don’t like in particular?” when he did not answer immediately, you giggled, “That few things, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, nodding as he continued thinking. You couldn’t help laughing with him. “Yeah, I think so!” The two of you laughed together until he said, “Animals, I suppose, if I have to pick something.”

“Really?”

“Why do you say ‘really’ like that?” He said, “Do you like animals like that?”

“Of course not!” you laughed. “I thought you’d be an animal guy.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Because you get turned on by the most vile things,” you said. “You seem like the kind of guy who tries everything at least once. I assumed animals were on that list.”

“I have,” he admitted. “Not personally, but I watched some people and it grossed me out too much so I stole the horse and set their house on fire.”

“What did you do with the horse?”

“Set it free. This was in the living world, so I don’t know. He went wherever horses go, I guess.” He watched you laugh as he said, “I like to try new things. Sometimes those things are a bit ‘out there’. When you’ve been around as long as me, you get bored of stuff really easily.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll get bored of me?” you pouted cutely.

“Not at all,” he said, pecking your lips softly. “I finally have someone to test out new kinks with. We can explore things together and see what we like.” He felt up your side to your chest, brushing a thumb over your nipple, “There are so many things I’d love to do with you, pet.”

“Like what?” you moved from your sitting position to straddling his lap. You felt the seam of his zipper pushing to your pussy, and it reignited the flames. “I’d like to know unless you’d rather keep me in suspense.”

“I’d start off gentle, of course,” he said. “But, I’ve always wanted to try aquaphilia.”

“Aqua-what?”

“It usually involves like swimming or posing underwater, but I’ve always wanted to have sex in water, but we’re in Hell and there’s no fucking bodies of water in Hell!” he said sharply. “Explain how we have water for drinking and bathing, but there are no lakes or oceans or anything. How can I live out my dreams if my world is holding me back?!” 

“Can’t you go to the living world, though?”

“I can but nobody wants to go with me.”

“How long has it been since you last went?”

“Fifty years!” he lamented sulkily. 

“You might be able to eventually…” you slowly ran your hands down his arms, letting him enjoy your soft touch. “It sounds fun.”

“It probably is!” He put his hands on your hips, his latex gloves smooth on your skin. Thumbs rubbing back and forth, he continued, “I'd like to fuck in a coffin one day.”

“A coffin?”

“Or a small closet,” he added. “You know, a confined space where we're trapped together? It'd be hot.” He moved closer to peck at your shoulder. “Have you ever done BDSM before?” He asked, kissing up your neck to your ear. 

“Not the way you likely have, Master.”

He chuckled, “I bet not. I imagine it was a little bit of rope or some light spanking?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like that?”

“At the time.”

“Do you think you’ll like it with me?”

“I know I will, sir.”

“Oh? How?”

“You sound like you'd know what you're doing,” you said, leaning closer to him. “And do I honestly have a choice?”

“Not really no,” he said, leaning to meet you. Inches from you, you saw the crimson ring around the brown irises. Demon blood. A pure blooded demon. “But, doesn't that make it more fun? Knowing you can't say no to me?”

“For you, perhaps. I am your slave, sir. I can only do my best to please you.”

“Spoken like a broken slut,” he said proudly. 

“Do you like that?” You asked, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Or would you prefer I was the high-spirited sinner you like to break?”

“How about tonight,” he took your hand to hold and kiss, “You be a good slut and let me have my way?” 

“If that's what pleases you,” you said. 

“Oh, it'd please me greatly.” He gave your thigh a slight tap, “Come, let me show you around.”

He led you by your leash into a brightly lit room. Seeing the various bondage equipment and walls of sex toys and instruments, Hongjoong’s dungeon came with every toy one could think of. Long chains and ropes hung from hooks on the ceiling, and you gulped at the clasps hanging from the ends. Hongjoong loosened the leash to let you roam and observe the various pieces: the wooden horse, the chair, the x-cross, the stockade, and the tall cage with a smaller counterpart. Certain pieces of furniture had hooks nailed to them for sexual and practical use. You examined the wall of sex toys. Hanging from a bar, he displayed all manner of whips, chains, paddles and belts alongside a case of toys in various shapes and colors. Hongjoong no doubt planned on using all of these on you at some point. 

“What do you think?” He asked, playing with your leash around his hand. 

“It's extensive,” you answered honestly. You took out a long wooden switch he kept inside a vase in the corner. You bent it slightly just because you could. This would definitely hurt. 

“I like variety,” he answered.

You put the switch back. “Have you used all of these before?”

“At one time or another,” he said. “My brothers don't like it as much as me, but they enjoy my toy collection. San thought I didn't know that he’d steal my dildos and vibrators. I told him if he ever wanted to use one, he could ask and I'd gladly help.” You heard him walk up behind you, lips softly pecking your neck, “We can use them on him together sometime. If you're a good girl, I'll even let you use them on your own.” His whip sailed down your spine to the crack of your ass. He let it swish over the backs of your thighs, so you trembled. “San told me Yunho watched you two fuck this morning. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck him too?”

“No. He only watched.”

“Hm, good to know.” He slid the handle of his whip over your ass and right to your sex again. “I'd love to fuck you in front of all of them sometime. They already go through peepholes around the house, but I mean doing it in front of them.” The ridges of the handle brushed over your slit once or twice, having you gasp when he pulled it back. “I'll let you pick tonight: where would you like it?”

“Your bed?” You asked, hoping it was an option.

“Then my bed it is. You go ahead,” he said, “I'll pick out fun things for us to use.”

You walked back into his bedroom, taking a seat on the corner of the bed. The soft crimson sheets and covers molded to your position, the fabric lightly pressed to your wet sex. You started grinding against the bed, eager for relief in the gradual motions. Hands cupping your breasts, you played with your nipples as you quietly humped the bed. It was then that someone appeared from the shadows. 

“-Master Hongjoong, I thought you should know…Oh, wow…” 

Mingi stood in the corner of the room, hidden halfway in the shadows before he stepped out of them. His eyes glued themselves to your naked body, illuminated by the fire near the bed. You stopped moving right away, removing your hands and keeping them at your sides. 

“Where’s Ma-Master Hongjoong?” he asked, gulping. 

“In the other room,” you answered, “Getting some things for me.”

“Is he?” he breathed, biting the inside of his cheek. “That’s…I will be going then. I’ll come back, um, later. You know, when you’re not…like this.”

“Does her nakedness bother you, Mingi?” 

Hongjoong entered the room, a black bag in one hand and a small wooden paddle in the other. Eyes twinkling with delight, he kept them on Mingi while he placed the items on the bed. He cupped your chin and kissed you, flicking your bottom lip and capturing it with his mouth. 

“Um, sir?” Mingi said bewildered, confused by the question. 

“The naked form is one of the most natural things in the world,” he said. He reached into the bag and withdrew a pair of small nipple clamps. “Just like sex. It’s part of who we are. Whether you’re a demon, a human, or something else, sexual desire is inherent. Our society wouldn’t exist without it.” 

He put one of the clamps on each of your nipples, creating a never ending whirl of pleasure. He guided you over to the headboard on your back. There, he attached your handcuffs to the middle where he'd nailed a small hook. He used belts to keep your knees attached to a harness he put around your waist. This made your lower half completely vulnerable to him. Mingi’s mouth opened at the sight of you. His eyes raked over you, seeing your tight ass and soaked pussy splayed out for his viewing pleasure. 

“Being naked is how we’re meant to be,” Hongjoong said, sliding his hand across your breasts to squeeze one of them. “It’s how pleasure slaves are meant to be,” he pushed back your hair, admiring your face as he pushed a thumb past your lips. He exhaled deeply at the lips sucking his thumb so willingly. “See? She has only been here a day, and she’s already giving into her natural instincts. She’s fucked both her masters, let Jongho and Yunho jerk off to her, and gave Yeosang and Wooyoung handjobs. She’s so eager,” his mouth opened when you stuck your tongue out for him to slide over, “And horny. So, I’ll ask you again, soldier: Does her nakedness bother you?”

“Not…Not at all, sir.”

Being tied added to the tension from your arousal. A bout of excitement hit you as you dreamed up his plans. You had your fair share of BDSM sessions, so you weren't a complete novice. Yet, something about Hongjoong's casual tone and the way he secured you comfortably told you you're in the hands of an expert. With you settled, Hongjoong's hand went down from your knee to your inner thigh. 

Hongjoong laughed, moving from your mouth to your center. “Don’t act like such a saint, Mingi. She isn’t the first slave you’ve helped me with before.” The smooth gloves kept a thin layer between the two of you, your wetness making it easier for him to slide around. You gave a soft whine, feeling his fingers trace your slit. “I know how much you like tying up those leftovers the servants get, and using them however you wish. I’ve seen what they look like afterwards.”

“That’s different, sir. Those are pleasure slaves from brothels,” he said. “She’s yours. I wouldn’t dare touch something that is yours.” 

“I’ve never been one to deny someone their most basic want,” Hongjoong grinned when you pushed your hips to his light fingers. “See? Pet isn’t afraid to give in to what she wants. Why do you hesitate?”

“As I said, she is your property. If it were a case of her being a leftover or a brothel girl, I wouldn’t.”

“Would you be content with watching, perhaps? I love an audience,” he rubbed his hand over your pussy a few times before giving it a sharp smack, “And so does Pet. You can even use the vibrator sleeves I have.”

“That would be delightful, sir,” he said, slowly moving to a chair and bringing it to the bed. He angled himself to sit across from you, “She is nice to watch.”

“Very. Now, what should I use first?”

“I think something simple,” Mingi suggested, “It is her first time.”

“Right you are.”

He withdrew a silver anal plug, and a bottle of lubricant. “I want you to stay put for me,” he said when he poured small droplets onto your pussy, then spread them further down. “Don’t move a single muscle, understand?”

He smiled when you nodded. You knew that would be almost impossible for you. He worked you up too much for you to hold it off. Using the plug, Hongjoong spread the lube from your sensitive clit to your clenching asshole. Breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, you anticipated the rush of pleasure coming your way. The pointed tip ran around your hole, smearing more lubricant before starting to penetrate you. A thumb rubbing your clit, it added to the mounting pleasure. You had the urge to move up into it, but your position made that difficult. 

“No moving,” Hongjoong said, giving your pussy a hard spank that only served to arouse you further. 

Hongjoong moved the plug little by little: he'd stick it halfway in before pulling it back out. Whether he did it out of caution or torture, either way you died for him to do more. He continued pushing the plug in and out, sometimes sinking it fully inside and other times halfway. You couldn’t keep still for him this time. The desperation flowed through you each time the toy filled you. 

“What did I say?” he asked, smacking your pussy two more times. “Huh? What did I say?”

“Not to move,” you sniffled. 

“Then don’t move. I won’t hesitate to flip you over and spank you. Do it again and I stop.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “Don’t stop.”

“Then behave and do what I say.” He went back to the plug, groaning when he sunk it inside you. You nearly writhed in his hold, but you stayed firm against the bed. “She looks pretty like this, huh?”

“Very, sir.”

“Mingi, sit closer. You can't see how wet she is from there.”

Mingi sat at the edge of the bed. He stayed focused on your center, marveling at the anal plug nestled in you. You breathed heavily through your nose when you heard the buzzing of a vibrator nearby. An average size and the color of emeralds, the vibrator started where the plug sat. This turned the stable plug into its own vibrator, sending subtle sparks to your pussy. Your thighs quaked at the low humming, feeling it rumble up into your body from the small toy. Lifting your legs higher out of habit, the toy suddenly turned off. 

“Roll over, slut.”

“Master, wait-”

“-It seems I’m going to have to teach you how to follow orders.”

With impressive strength, Hongjoong rolled you onto your front. The position kept your face halfway buried in his pillows and your ass in the air. You gasped once something hard and cold made circles on your left buttock. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, your body tensed at the first soft hit. Fingernails pressing into your palms, you cried out as he landed a second spank to your right cheek. After three more hits, Hongjoong increased the harshness. The paddle, likely thin and long, covered both cheeks easily. You could feel its length in every spank. Some smacks later, he went harder. The repeated slaps left a stinging burn on your skin. They reach down to your thighs at some points. The pain only radiated your arousal more. Each time the hard wood hit your center, you received a little pleasure with the sting. Every spank rocked through your body, displeasing Hongjoong. 

“I told you not to move,” he said as he spanked you again, “And you’re still doing it. You slum sluts really are empty headed, huh?” You screamed as he made several hard hits, shaking in place. “I’m only going to keep going. I can do this all night.” 

You planted yourself firmly on the bed. Tears filled your eyes from the pain, streaming onto the satin pillow. You could feel your orgasm building from the continued hitting. He must have known the effect, since he occasionally slid the paddle up your dripping pussy before spanking it. Gripping the headboard chains tightly, you channeled the pain into your hands instead, holding them tightly to keep yourself steady. 

“And to think you told me you’d be a good girl,” Hongjoong scolded. “I’m not sure if you know this, but good girls do what they’re told.” He spanked you again, so hard it vibrated everywhere. “Bad girls get spanked and teased to the edge. Isn’t that right, Mingi?”

“Too right.” 

“So, what are we going to do, whore?”

“Be a good girl,” you whimpered, crying when he slapped your ass again. “I’ll be good. I promise, Master.”

“That’s what you said when you humped me like a damn dog,” he laid more spanks that had you screaming into the pillow. Sobbing, you held onto the chains until your knuckles whitened. “Promise me you’ll stay still. I can’t fuck you if you’re moving around like this.”

“I-I promise.”

Then, you heard the rough pulling of tape from behind you. Shaking your head, you knew exactly what your master had planned. The vibrator, likely an egg shaped bullet toy, stayed firmly inside you. Then, you felt the presence of paper tape across your thighs. The tape kept the egg nestled between your folds and created a new sensation. 

The vibrator returned, the round head swishing lightly over your clit. The mixture of pain and pleasure worked deep in your core, having you moaning into the pillow. When a hand pulled at your hair, lifting your face from the bed, Hongjoong pressed the vibrator fully against you. He chuckled at the constant cries coming through your throat. He and Mingi listened as the volume and pressure had you either giving low hums or loud groaning. You screamed from the sparks the vibrator created when directly on your clit. Yet, the entire time, you kept yourself from moving even an inch. You still ached from the spanking, and the new position buried the plug deeper into your ass. When he rapidly moved the vibrator around, you wept openly at the overwhelming pleasure. 

Hongjoong then whipped at your thighs and calves. You heard the crack of his personal whip on your skin, the tips slapping your tender flesh. Behind you, deep low moans started faintly reaching you. 

“You enjoy watching me hurt them, don’t you?” Hongjoong asked, amused by Mingi’s reaction. 

“I love…I love to hear them cry. Seeing them tear up as I’m spanking or whipping them just…Fuck, it gets me so hard so fast.”

“You hear that?” he bent down to your ear, tapping the egg with his whip, “Mingi likes watching pretty girls cry. Are you going to cry for him?” When you didn’t answer, he dug the bullet further inside you. “Are you?”

“Yes, yes!”

Quickly, Hongjoong unchained you from the headboard, and chained your wrists close together instead. Bringing you towards Mingi, he lifted your head so the bodyguard saw your tear streaked face. He pumped himself faster, moaning in every stroke as he looked at you. Hongjoong straddled your knees, removed your plug and filled your ass with something larger. Mingi groaned when he realized what Hongjoong had done. 

“Oh,” he breathed, “The tentacle one.”

Hongjoong cackled, “One of the longer ones I have. Her ass was so tight last night, it milked every drop out of me.” 

“Green-Gr-Greenho-house,” Mingi managed to get out, “You should take her there. She’d love it.”

“A very good idea,” he agreed, pushing the dildo in and out of you to create more pleasure. “I'll keep that in mind.”

You clung to the edge of the bed as the two toys worked together to bring you to the edge. Right when you thought you might combust, Hongjoong withdrew the dildo and shut off the vibrator. The squeal of frustration you let out amused both men. Mingi kept stroking himself and Hongjoong spanked your ass lightly. 

“You didn’t think you’d get to cum that easily, did you?” he mocked you, cackling at your shivering body. “No, no, no, pet,” he ran his hands up your back and into your hair, tugging at the roots on your scalp, “I’m having way too much fun to stop now. You’re cumming when I want you to.” 

He chained you to the bars above the bed, leaving you dangling from the middle bar in a kneeling position. From the bag, he withdrew a dildo attached to a small machine. Hongjoong slipped the flesh colored dildo between your thighs and pushed it up into you. Mingi and him moaned together when the small machine began thrusting the toy inside you at a steady pace. The absolute euphoria of it blinded you to all sense. The cooldown of your orgasm slowly heated back up as the toy pushed into your g-spot repeatedly. Hongjoong allowed you to quake and tremble above the machine, and enjoyed the effect the vibrating egg had when he turned it on. Tears came down your cheeks, and you wriggled around with hopes of being allowed an orgasm. 

It didn’t happen. Hongjoong raised the speed and he laughed when you pathetically begged for him to let you cum. 

“I don’t want to yet,” he said, grabbing his whip out of habit. Swinging it across your lower stomach, a few strips caught between your legs. When you jerked at the slight sting, he continued doing it. “It’s fun watching you scream for me,” he said, laughing through clenched jaws as he turned up the speed on both toys. “Scream,” he whipped you, “Scream for me!”

You tugged at your chains as an orgasm hurled its way towards you. Shaking and crying, you sobbed when he turned off your stimulants right at the last moment. “Master! Please!” you wept, your pussy feeling empty and painful from the fierce edging. 

He lowered your chains to bend you forward, your arms now behind you and suspending your top half from the bed. “Suck Mingi’s cock,” he said, “And I’ll think about it.”

Mingi did not hesitate to yank down his pants and kneel in front of you. Grabbing the back of your head, he sunk deep into your mouth until he reached your throat. The dildo began pumping in and out from this new angle, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around the dick in your mouth. Mingi proved merciless like his master. Holding your hair back, he held you in place as he fucked your throat. He didn’t care about the constant gagging, the strings of drool or your throaty moans. He pushed in and out like any other hole in your body. This had you groaning and whimpering. You loved the feeling of being used. It felt nice to not think for a while. Being at the mercy of horny incubi brought you close to an orgasm again. Hongjoong tapping his own cock against your gaped ass hole nearly made you cum. 

You let out a yelp when he plunged into it, fists keeping him propped up as he took you. Having Mingi filling your mouth, the toy filling your pussy and Hongjoong in your ass left you a whining, mewling mess. This pleased both men, causing them to pick up their pace. When Mingi withdrew to let you breathe, he slapped his wet dick against your cheeks hard. The thick muscle burned your jaw and throat, but you wanted more. 

“Spit on it, slut.”

You spat on it, thick drool and precum sliding onto his head. You stuck your tongue out to receive it, but instead Mingi slapped you again on the opposite cheek. The sticky mess smeared on your cheeks, mouth and nose as Mingi whacked your face. Their shared laughter at your expense left you shivering. 

“Just another dirty hole,” Hongjoong grunted, holding you by the waist as he thrusted into you. “That’s all you fucking are at the end of the day: a pretty set of holes for us to use. You’re going to have a lot of fun here…So much fun…Would you like that?” he slapped your ass hard, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you said, the answer muffled by Mingi sticking himself back into your mouth. “Yes, Master.”

“She sounds cute when she’s being gagged,” Mingi moaned, returning to fucking your face. “It almost makes me wish she were another slum slut from the city. Then I could…I could fuck her however I wanted.”

“And how would you do that, Mingi?” Hongjoong pulled out of you, but turned on the vibrator still taped to your clit. Unable to push into the sex machine, you hung there and let it keep going. 

“Lock her in a cage,” he said, “And use her holes whenever I feel like it. Whip her. Shock her. Bring her to the edge over and over. Take her to the greenhouse…watch Dennis fuck her until she’s nothing but a broken bitch for me. That’s what I like, sir: broken whores who don’t know anything other than how to take cock.”

“We really are kindred spirits,” Hongjoong smiled. 

You don’t know how long they went at you. You only knew the two demons did whatever they could to keep you on edge, crying and screaming for mercy. When Hongjoong finally filled your pussy himself, he kept the vibrator going the entire time. Cradled in his lap, he pushed up into you while Mingi used your limp hand to jerk himself with. Both men knew exactly how to keep you hanging on. It’s as if they could each see inside your deepest desires, and twist them to their advantage. You thought the torture might never end. You thought you might simply be forced to near orgasm over and over until the end of time. Body gleaming with sweat, hair frizzy and messy, and the scent of semen and sex on you made you a pitiful sight. You could hardly stay up long enough to ride Hongjoong after a while. 

You never thought they’d let you cum until Hongjoong had you pounded into the mattress. Mingi, close to orgasm, toyed with the bullet attached to you as he stroked his wet cock. You almost did not want to for fear of them denying you again. Sobbing out of desperation, you laid there with your legs chained to the bars, your hand being used like a toy and let Hongjoong work himself out on you. 

“You can cum now, pet,” he said, bending down to finally kiss you. “I promise you can.” He lifted your hips and slammed directly into you. “You can cum, I swear. I want to hear you cum for me, baby. My sweet, slutty, empty-headed baby,” he kissed down your neck comfortingly, palming your sore breasts and playing with your clamped nipples. 

“N-N-No,” you wept. “You’ll take it away.”

“I won’t, baby,” he kissed down to your nipples. He removed one clamp to replace it with his mouth. “Cum for me.” 

Reluctantly, you allowed your climax to wash over you. Shaking, trembling, burning and aching, your moans could be heard from down the hall. That same strange shooting feeling from before happened. Clear cum shot and around Hongjoong's cock. You squirted again and this took Hongjoong to a new plane of bliss. Keeping himself balanced on one arm, he grabbed your tit and thrusted deep into you. You would’ve thought he wanted to ensure his semen rooted inside you. That alone prolonged your climax. Mingi, you saw, came with both of you, white streaks falling onto his exposed stomach. 

When the desire finally passed, Hongjoong unchained you. “Yun…Yunho,” he breathed out tiredly, “Yunho!”

In a single puff of smoke, Yunho appeared beside the bed. “You called, Master?”

“Bring water, a sponge, some healing cream,” he laid beside you, sweaty and exhausted, “Honeyed tea, and a snack for Pet. She’s…had a rough night.”

“As you wish.”

“You can go with him, Mingi,” Hongjoong said, eyes shutting. “You did well.”

“Thank you for the opportunity, Master.”

Mingi slowly slid off the bed, straightening himself up as he followed Yunho from the room. Alone with Hongjoong, you laid in the bed while he carefully removed the taped bullet. Lazily, he pushed all the devices to the side to be collected later, and used a hand cloth to wipe excess fluids from you. 

“Are you alright, Pet?” he asked, kissing your forehead before wiping it with the damp cloth. 

“Ye-yes,” you croaked, allowing yourself to give in to your exhaustion. 

“Yunho’s bringing a few things to take care of you,” he said. “I’m so proud of my sweet girl.” He brought you close to him, pecking your forehead again, “I thought for sure you’d cum before I asked. I didn’t know you’d hold it for so long like that.”

“It hurts,” you pouted, rolling onto your side and feeling the soreness in the front and back. 

“I’ll take care of that for you. Just stay up a bit longer so we can get some tea for your throat. Don’t talk too much or you’ll strain it more. Gosh, Mingi went quite hard,” he said, massaging your throat for you. “Perhaps I’ll let him just watch next time. My horny side gets caught in the heat of the moment sometimes. My poor pet,” he sighed, hugging you to him. “Did you like it?”

You only nodded, not wanting to make your throat worse. You truly had enjoyed it, edging and all. You’d never done anything like it, and it left you floating on clouds. Shutting your eyes, you didn’t notice Yunho reappearing with the items his master requested. You opened your mouth to sip the hot tea, and nibbled on the apple slices and almonds at Hongjoong’s insistence. The real relief came when Hongjoong began sponge cleaning you. His gentle hands held you so delicately, like you might break if he handled you too roughly. Applying a cold lotion to your more tender parts you melted with ease. It tingled your entrances, and soothed the heat radiating from your ass and thighs. 

“Sleep now, pet,” he said, pecking your shoulder blades and bringing you to him again. “You can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow. Seonghwa can start his morning without you for a bit.” 

“Thank you, Master.”

You turned to snuggle into him, finally falling asleep in his arms. 

***

Y/N: woo that was intense! I think it's one of my more intense smut scenes to be honest. I'm so glad you guys are liking this series of mine! remember to like and reblog (leave a comment if you want). <3

[xythlia]

𓏲 ࣪₊➷ CAN I GET A KISS, CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?

› thinking about being the cute younger teacher & how much of a determined freak satoru would become learning ur a virgin idk he's ruining the idea of any other man for u babe

› satoru x f!reader

› word count : 2.5k+

warnings : loss of virginity, porn with a dash of plot if u squint, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, fingering, biting/hickies, alcohol consumption, praise, use of pretty girl/baby, not edited I needed to get this out of me like a possession victim getting an exorcism

You decided Satoru Gojo was a pervert.

It was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that you were a virgin, wholly inexperienced and totally at the mercy of his unending teasing. The little jabs he'd manage to work into conversation, or that he'd say in passing with that particularly cheery tone. It always made your chest burn hot with a strange mixture of desire and discomfort.

You should've never said yes to going out with the other instructors for a drink that night. Should've said something, anything when Ieiri burst out with "holy shit, you are a virgin aren't you?" but instead you'd drunkenly shied away, eyes wobbly and looking anywhere but at your fellow teachers.

It was all the confirmation he needed.

The days that followed made you think surely you should schedule a check up, Saturo without a doubt had a negative impact on the levels of cortisol in your brain but at the same time when you'd wearily collapse in bed at night he was still on your mind. Those whispered, teasing jokes about your lack of experience stuck on loop in your brain paired with thoughts of how experienced he must be in contrast.

Would he work your body over in ways that would make you sob into your pillow? The loose image of it alone was enough to leave you with a sore clit as your eyes drifted closed, your fingers still slick as his voice curled around your brain to drag you off into dreams so depraved they made you sweat getting dressed in the morning, feeling embarrassed about having to look him in the face during the day.

A part of you wished, again, that you'd have said no to getting another drink with him. Shouldn't have giggled like a school girl at the suggestion of coming back home with him, shouldn't have so brazenly straddled his lap while the faint aftertaste of gin clung to your lips as his tongue mapped your own in a sloppy, burning kiss.

The way his body was still so completely relaxed beneath your tense one intimidated you. You felt embarrassed at the idea of how awkward and jerky your movements must be, sure you'd kiss before but never with someone who so clearly wanted to devour you whole. It was comforting though that his hands didn't stray from your waist, as if he was acutely aware of your anxiety. Although the way his lithe fingers drew circles against your skin, slipped beneath your shirt, and dug into your flesh still made your hands shake against his chest.

"Sa-" you started to say his name but the breath was snatched from your lungs in another heated kiss, the way he overrode each of your senses.

Sliding his tongue past your lips again, somehow in the same lighthearted way he'd teased you. When his hands drifted down, out from your shirt, under your skirt to trace the hem of your panties against your ass you froze.

Without you needing to say anything he pulled back, and a fresh tidal wave of anxiety beat against your mind. You know he's hard, can feel it pressing against you through your clothes. He was the first man to hold you, touch you, make you feel like you'd swallowed hot embers that now seared low in your tummy.

You suddenly felt burdensome, ridiculous for instigating something you weren't sure you could finish. Guilt also mingled in your head, it was hardly fair to go through all this set up just to back out at the last second. Would he be upset with you?

You caught your bottom lip in your teeth, eyes searching his catastrophic blue ones for signs of upset. But none existed there, only meeting your gaze plainly and with an air of calm, like he knew this was going to happen.

Shyly you averted your eyes, holding contact with him for too long made your liquor buzzed brain feel like static shocks were rolling over it. Your breathing hitched as you whispered in the half dark.

"You... you can touch me."

The silence was deafening, making your palms grow damp.

You caught his blue eyes widening in faux shock, a lazy grin dancing across his lips. "Really? Can I touch you there?"

Your ears burned in humiliation as you pouted at him. "Don't say it like that!"

Your indignation was cut off into a small yelp as he manhandled you into sitting with your back pressed against his chest. Your head spun as he wiggled your panties down, inch by inch, fingers leaving scorched trails on your thighs. His arm came to rest against your tummy, one hand still at your thigh as he spread your legs with his.

His breath fanning against the back of your neck made gooseflesh rise across your arms.

"W-wait," you stammered.

He hummed over your shoulder, his voice dripping with arousal. "What now, hm?"

It would make you more nervous if you couldn't hear the smile in his voice.

"Wanna take care of you," you say leaning your head back so you could see more of his face. Satorus eyes were full of amusement.

"Do you know how to, pretty girl?" His hand caressed the underside of your jaw, thumb swiping across your lips.

"Sorta," you mumbled, chest feeling fuzzy at the thought, vaguely recalling porn you'd watched forever ago.

"Sorta?" He snickered. "What happens if you choke huh?"

Your mind went as fuzzy as your chest, something told you hes hardly the type to exaggerate his size. That and you could feel his erection pressing into your back.

"Pinky promise I won't choke," you whisper, making yourself breathless already imagining what he'd look like in your hands.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he spoke against the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. "There's plenty of time."

His words were punctuated by feather light swipes of his index against your inner thigh, making you jump in his hold. Your breathing sped up, eyes fluttering closed and you gasped as his fingertips ghosted through your slick arousal, spreading your folds before concentrating on your clit.

It felt like a live wire pressed against you, tearing a sharp gasp from your lungs as you fought the urge to snap your legs closed. Meek whimpers rose in your throat as he barely circled around your clit, pressing soft kisses to your temple as your back arched ever so slightly away from his chest.

"Feels good?" He hummed against your skin.

You couldn't articulate words to answer with because at the same time he slipped his index inside you, so slowly you could feel his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle as your body eagerly accepted the intrusion.

If you had the wherewithal you might have been embarrassed at how badly your legs shook with just that little taste, but thanks to his ministrations there was no room inside your head for anything except how good he made you feel. Gingerly he started stroking against your slick walls, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed on his lap and inadvertently pressed your ass down firmly against his painfully hard erection.

A breathy laugh came from above your head as he slid in the second finger, your hazy eyes seeing hungry amusement dancing in his own. Your lips parted, one hand coming to clutch his forearm in a tight grip but he never slowed the scissoring of his fingers inside you.

"Can't use your words?," he teased.

"Want more," you gasped out as your hips began rolling in fits and starts, awkwardly trying to chase more stimulation from him.

"Lemme take care of you, yeah?" He said as he pulled his fingers away. The absence of him made you whine again in response, but you didn't have time to pout as he helped you ease onto your back, his deft hands helping to strip you and toss your clothes somewhere across the room.

The only thing left on you was the pencil skirt you'd worn out, now bunched up around your abdomen as you laid in the dark, eyes taking him in as he pulled off his shirt, the blindfold also yanked from his neck and lost to the carnivorous floor.

This time it was you playing the role of pervert, eyes wide and drinking in the sight of him from chest to abs to the waist of his pants barely showing the top of his hips. Leaning back he undid the fabric confines with quick movements, letting his cock spring free to lightly slap against his abdomen. Your throat suddenly felt parched taking in his pretty, flushed tip as his hand gave a few quick pumps but his lilting voice snapped you out of your trance.

"That face your making's pretty lewd," you knew he was teasing again, seeing his teeth flash in the half dark as he came down to brace his arms on either side of your head. "It's actually really damn hot."

Your toes curled from the embarrassment at being caught ogling him so nakedly but who could blame you? You could tell from his grin he knew he was attractive, enjoyed making you drool over him.

You let out an content sigh while tilting your head back against the pillows as you felt his cock start to grind against you. The feeling of his weight on you was intoxicating on its own but you were itching for him, impatient to feel him inside you, eager to know exactly how he felt.

His fingers reached down again to spread your folds, middle finger swirling around in your slick. "You're already such a mess." He almost held a tone of awe.

He kissed his way from your cheek to your lips, grinning into the kiss as you spread your legs wider in restless anticipation. Using one hand he dragged your arms to lace behind his neck, resituating himself as he felt your fingers dig into his back already.

"Hold on to me." He could've told you to dive head first into the Pacific and you would've without thought. Satoru pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, a reassurance as you felt the first stitches of pain as the head of his cock nudged its way past your entrance. Your head tipped back, pressing against the pillow as your mouth dropped open.

Your cunt instantly clamped down on him, earning a few pants as he pressed his face against the side of your neck.

"You gotta relax, baby," he whispered raggedly against your ear.

You whimpered. "Can't-"

"You okay? Need you to look at me." He cooed, nudging his nose against yours until you opened your eyes already swimming with tears.

"S'okay, you know I got you, right?"

You nodded, feeling every bit like a crybaby as you clung to his shoulders. You cried out again as he pressed deeper, feeling your rigid walls relax into a smooth, throbbing pulse around him as he slowly bottomed out inside you. Your chest felt heavy, mind somewhere beyond empty as you reveled in just how full he made you feel, your nerves alight feeling him nudging against your cervix.

The pain ebbed with your every exhale, your pussy easing up on its stranglehold letting him know he could move.

"Knew you were a good girl," his light praises made your nails scratch against his warm skin. "Gonna take it all, right?"

His lips devoured yours before you could respond, nipping at your bottom lip before marking a sloppy trail down the column on your throat.

"Wanna hear you make those pretty noises again, can you do that for me?" He spoke between each hot press of his lips against your skin. It felt like you were on fire, doused in sweat and helpless against the feeling of him rocking against your hips.

Little did you know it would be ingrained in his head forever, the feeling of you clenched around him and practically dripping down his twitching balls.

Your hand slid up to tangle in his hair as he found a rhythm, slow deep thrusts that tore moans from deep down in your diaphragm. The smack of his hips against yours made you feel like you were melting apart in a sticky puddle, like hardened sugar powerless to warm water.

The sound of skin smacking felt dreamlike and far away as your eyes screwed shut, fingers tugging at his snowy locks.

Stickiness spreads, hot and thick, throughout your body turning your mind into a sluggish mess and you swore you could feel your heartbeat through your entire body, thrumming in time with every one of Satorus thrusts.

"Fuck," he groaned, "You really know how to get me going." He was unabashedly thrilled to be the one to reduce you to a teary moaning mess, the very first to ever witness it. Equally exciting was the thought that he was the one getting to mold you to his cock, claim you and make sure nobody else could ever make you feel as good.

Your voice was cracking, wobbly on the verge of wailing and you dragged him down to you, frantic lips on any patch of skin you could reach before sinking your teeth into his shoulder after a particularly brutal thrust had him hitting you just right, enough to make stars dance behind your eyelids.

As your pussy clamped down again one of his hands slid down to roughly circle your aching clit, making you squeal and release his shoulder. Rough groans rose from his lips, tongue lapping at the now blooming red splotches on your neck from his previous nips to the skin.

"Gonna make sure I'm the only one who can take care of you."

His words barely reached your ears as you sobbed feeling something like pressure pop deep inside your tummy, wailing his name like a prayer all the whole his fingers never left your clit and his hips never slowed, fucking you through your orgasm.

"Hold on baby, I gotta pull out-"

"No," you hiccuped, delirium curling through the word and making his head drop, teeth gritting feeling your slick heat sucking him back in and your legs locked around his hips.

Your distant, glassy eyes and sweat sheened skin made the case for you, he wasn't going to deny you, the pretty little thing blubbering for him so sweetly against the mattress. But his right mind won out, pulling out at the last second to give himself a few harsh pumps before spilling hot and thick across your belly.

Your unfocused eyes watched him stroke himself dry, feeling the slick mess between your thighs and the little pin pricks of soreness along your throat. It took some time to feel like you'd regained any control of your body, bones feeling more like jello as Satoru toweled you off.

That amused grin stayed lodged on his face as he laid beside you, pulling you over so you were curled against his side.

You whined, small and cracked as your hand rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart helping to ground you.

"What's the matter?" He mused, dragging his fingers up and down your back. "Can't do anything unless you tell me."

As you mumbled your request, eyes closed and avoiding his gaze, he broke out into a cocky laugh.

"There's always next time, don't worry your pretty little head."

[little-diable]

Marry Me - Dean Winchester (smut)

This can be read as a part 2 to this fic - but you don’t need to read it to understand the story line. The lyrics are from the song “Joy of my Life” by Chris Stapleton. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean finally finds his confidence to ask (y/n) to marry him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, super fluffy, slight jealousy and possessiveness

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2k words)

She's sweet to me, must be the luckiest man alive. Did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

“Isn't it funny that this car has seen all our good but also our ugly days?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the Impala as she held onto her food, taking another bite while letting her eyes wander. Dean and her were parked in the middle of nowhere, another getaway from Sam and the bunker the couple had been desperate for. 

It had been a while since Dean had taken her stargazing, letting their eyes take in the most beautiful spectacle, while Dean’s hand had found the small pocket of his jacket, touching the box of the ring he had been carrying around with himself for a while. 

“She really has, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Dean studied his girlfriend with an unreadable expression (y/n) tried to pay no mind to as she got lost in her memories, remembering the first time she had sat in the Impala. 

“So, that’s Baby, huh?” She whispered the words while she let her fingertips trace the leather of the dark seat she sank into. A proud smirk was resting on Dean’s lips as he nodded his head, mimicking her wandering gaze. 

“My most prized possession.” The words had left Dean’s parted lips before he could stop himself, cursing himself for saying this to his new girlfriend. But all (y/n) did was laugh and shake her head at her grinning boyfriend who stared at her with excitement laced in his gaze.

“What is it, Dean?” Her voice grew lower as the words rumbled through her, letting them vibrate on her lips. He moved closer to press a kiss to her lips while his right hand found the back of her headrest, keeping himself close to her. 

“The backseats are quite comfortable, if you feel like testing them out.” Dean’s words drew a gritty laugh from (y/n) as she only nodded her head before finding her way to the backseat. Within seconds she found herself straddling Dean’s lap while their lips got lost in a rough kiss. 

“I still remember the first time you introduced me to Baby, I was sure you’d eventually end up marrying your car.” Her laughter had an addicting effect on Dean, drawing a few from him as well while he kept studying (y/n). His heart began to beat faster in his chest as his thoughts began to race. 

Perhaps this was the moment he had always been waiting for. This was the perfect spot, hidden in the dark, while Baby offered them enough comfort and distraction, away from their busy life and home. Dean took one last bite of his burger before he wiped his fingers and slowly reached for his pocket, closing his fist around the velvety black box. 

(Y/n) had her all too oblivious gaze focused on the window, once again remembered of another night they had spent in this car. 

Silence filled Baby. A thick silence that left (y/n)’s heart painfully clenching in her chest. No word had been shared between her and Dean since their fight, an escalation of jealous words and angry sensations they couldn’t shake. 

“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?” Her voice was small as she spoke the words, letting them rumble through Baby while she shuffled around on the seat to look at Dean, who was laying behind her. 

It took him a few moments to speak up as he closed eyes as if he was trying to shake the memories of what had drawn these ugly words from his parted lips. It had been foolish, a stupid mistake he had instantly regretted as tears had welled up in her eyes. 

“No, I don’t.” She was a friendly soul, always had been, but it was something Dean clearly struggled to accept, especially when she shared one of the smiles he wanted to be the only one receiving, with strangers. She was a beautiful woman, it was no surprise that men chatted her up whenever she stood alone, without Dean near, and yet it still left him spiralling, urged on by his fear of losing her. 

“You know,” (y/n) cleared her throat as she also finished her food. Slowly she turned her head back towards her boyfriend, while pondering over the words she so desperately had wanted to speak for months now. “We haven’t really talked about marriage and all these things before, but I can’t help but wonder, if that is even something you’d want.” 

Dean could tell that she was nervous about speaking these words, struggling to let them roll off her tongue while fumbling with her fingers. A shaky exhale left him before he reached for her hand with his free one, letting their fingers interlace. 

“Do you remember when we went stargazing a few weeks ago?” (Y/n) could only nod her head with a slight confusion tugging on her features. 

“I had promised myself that I’d ask you to marry me that night, but even though I was never so sure of something as I am of the love I have for you, I still fear that one day you’ll pack your bags to run from this mess we are stuck in. Sam told me that I don’t need to be scared, because you’d never do that. And I know that, deep down I really do, but perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, the right day. But now, here, with Baby,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched Dean pull his left hand from the pocket of his jacket, exposing a small box to her eyes.

“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” The words were whispered, filling the small space before a sob broke out of her. All (y/n) could do was whisper a small "Of course" as Dean opened the box to expose the most beautiful ring she has ever seen. 

Both their hands were shaking. Dean had his eyes set on her finger as he slowly slid the ring onto it – all while being unable to bite down his grin at the sight. Her hands found his cheeks to pull him in for a teeth clashing kiss, drawing desperate moans from them in unison. 

First time that I saw you, you took my breath away. I might not get to Heaven, but I walked with the angels that day

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” She mumbled the words against his lips as he held her close, letting another shaky though relieved sigh pass his lips. 

“I love you too, future Misses Winchester.” Her teary laughter rumbled through her as Dean kissed her again, deepening the kiss with his wandering tongue and his impatient hands. Her mind was racing, still trying to understand what had just happened, something she had been thinking of since meeting Dean, and yet she had never dared to have the talk with him.

God, how lucky she was, getting married to the man she never wanted to part from again, forever glued to his side as if their fate had been interlinked since their births. 

“Backseat?” His question vibrated against her lips while (y/n) choked on her moan, desperate for him to fuck her on the seats that had experienced their best and their worst moments. For a second, they parted, to find their way to the backseats, before (y/n) straddled his lap and let her hands undo his trousers, while they kissed again, and again. 

“I can’t believe I get to marry you. I must have done something right after all.” Dean’s words left her heart clenching in her chest. (Y/n) wanted to tell him that there was so much he had done right in his life, that there were so many things he should be proud of, but the words died on her tongue as his fingers disappeared beneath her dress to wander over the damp fabric of her panties. The groan leaving Dean made her buzz in excitement, unable to bite down a groan of her own. 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, sweetheart.” He began to rub her pulsing bundle through the thin fabric, while she finally managed to free his hardening cock. Their eyes held contact as (y/n) spat into her hand before she began to pump him, giving them both enough courage to let go of their sounds to fill the dark Impala. 

“Dean, don’t waste any time, I want to feel you inside of me.” Her moaned words left Dean chuckling in glee, a gritty sound that made her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally sink into her. Their eyes held contact as his tongue kissed his teeth, sinking further into the seat while his fingers pushed her panties aside. She held her dress up to offer him a view that made his cock twitch, watching her position herself while he could only stare up at her and thank his lucky stars for pushing them together. 

Both let go of a heavy moan as (y/n) sank down on his cock. She allowed herself to rest for a moment, to push her forehead against his, while both took a deep breath. Slowly she began to move, supported by Dean’s hands, who couldn’t stop his fingertips from digging into her skin. 

The sound of their bodies moving filled Baby, followed by sinful sounds they couldn’t stop from breaking through them. Both were grateful for the darkness that had wrapped them in a comforting embrace, clinging to them to hide their frames from anybody who could walk past the Impala. Stuck in their own bubble, forever interlinked.

“I always knew you were perfect for me, fuck, I can’t believe I get to marry you.” Dean’s head rolled back against the headrest to stare at his now fiancée, the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever been fortunate enough to look at. She was perfect in any and every way, crafted for him only, made to cling to his body. God, sex had never felt like that before he had met (y/n), it had never been this intense, this raw, this loving. He wouldn’t trade this for the world, forever glued to her side. 

“Dean,” (y/n) whined his name as she reached for his hand to push it closer to her pulsing bundle, needing the extra friction to push that familiar heat through her aching body. Their foreheads met, pressed together as they trembled, knowing that their highs were oh so very close. 

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting her thrusts, trying to bury himself even deeper inside of her as she trembled in his lap. He’d fight every creature, every being for this sight. Dean would do anything to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. 

“Look at me, (y/n).” His choked words forced her eyes to meet his green ones, holding contact as she came for him. Dean’s hips began to move again, jerking upwards to fuck them through her high, only to follow her a few seconds later to imprint himself on her walls. 

“I can’t wait for the night of our wedding.” Dean panted the words that drew a laugh from (y/n). She rested her forehead on his shoulder, holding herself to him as he was still buried deep inside of her. 

“Of course this is the only thing you think of. I can’t believe I’m marrying such a horny bastard.” His hands began to tickle her, forcing a loud laugh out of (y/n) as she threw her head back, letting the sounds fill the car.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” 

Some may have their riches, some may have their worldly things, as long as I have you, I′ll treasure each and every day

Just take me by the hand, I am the luckiest man alive, did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

[reds-writings]

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 

And what a night it would be indeed. 

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 

 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    

 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

[fictionismyreality3]

I Can Fight (18+)

Simon Riley x Reader

Tags: Smut, boyfriend!simon riley, possessive!simon riley, 141!reader, kinda dark!simon riley, established relationship

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, slightly controlling behaviour, it’s kinda toxic but like also not, military stuff??, clubbing, drinking, violence, choking, slight impact play, SHAMELESS SMUT

Notes: the side eye he’s giving in this photo is diabolical 😮‍💨

There was something about watching you dancing around in the tight red dress Simon bought you that satisfied the primal, caveman part of his mind. Going to the club after a long mission had begun to become a routine for the squad, and Simon never had a reason to attend before.

Not until you.

He salivated as he sat at the bar, his eyes constantly trained on your figure as you moved and grinded against any random person near you. Every hand that someone laid on your hip made his jaw tick and his cock bulge in his jeans. It was a little game you liked to play with each other. Simon still remembered the first time you were in his bedroom standing in front of his mirror, two dresses in your hand.

“I don’t know, the blue one kinda shows my ass.” You hesitated. “Wear wha’ever the fuck you want, luv. I can fight. I’ll rip the cock off anyone who touches you.”

The initial protectiveness he felt quickly evolved into a feral need to keep you all to himself, and you were just as bad as him. It was hard to tell when the lines blurred, but soon you were going out of your way to make Simon jealous, and every night out ended with him beating the shit out of some random guy.

It was wrong. It was fucking sick, really. But, the look in Simon’s eye when he came back to loom over you and grab you by the throat made you want to let him fuck you right there in the club. And the sex you had when you got home was the hottest of your life.

And that’s how Simon found himself sitting on a barstool, his legs spread to accommodate the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans. He could see your eyes darting to him as you rolled your ass back against a scrawny looking guy. He could see the way you ran a hand down the front of your body just to tease him. He’d let you have your fun for a while. Then he’d come over and punch the lights out of the fucker who was touching you.

God, you were such a pretty thing.The little red dress you were wearing was tight enough to be a second skin. The collar dipped down to reveal a frankly whorish about of cleavage, but he didn’t mind.

You were his good little slut.

But he’d had enough now. A low grumble went through his chest as his pushed himself off the bar, following you as you led the guy out of the club and to the alley behind it. Just like you’d discussed. He stood in the shadows, palming himself through his jeans as the man started to try and press himself into you. Simon cupped his cock, liking the burn of the fabric he got when he rutted into his hand.

But then the fucker tried to kiss you and he saw red.

Your little game was suddenly over, and Simon was ripping the guy off you with a snarl. Heat flooded into your pussy, and you were clenching your legs together as you leaned against the wall and waited for him to finish. The man’s desperate pleas slowly turned into panicked gurgling noises, he went limp on the pavement. Simon gave him one last shake and then he was coming over to you.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty f’me.” He shuddered, running his nose from the dip of your chest to your jaw. “You like dressin’ up f’me, luv?”

Simon drew a breathy moan from your lips as he slid his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Like watchin’ me break who ever touches you?”

Your back hit the sheets, the scent of Simon engulfing you with a dizzying intensity. His hands tugged at the fabric of your dress, pulling the fabric apart so it ripped by the seams. Suddenly, your red dress was on the floor, the only sounds in the room were your whispered pleas and Simon’s grunts as he fumbled to pull his cock free of his jeans.

Running a thick finger through your folds, he collected the wetness and forced it into your mouth. “Just couldn’t keep y’self together in the car, huh?” Shaking your head dumbly, you sucked idly on his digit while he began to stroke himself. “Si, please give me your cock.” You moaned, the words muffled when he suddenly shoved another finger down your throat, the intrusion making you gag.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me. Gonna take my cock so well.”

You were such a pretty thing, already needy and messy from how he’d teased you in the car. It was impossible for Simon to stop himself from just shoving his cock inside you all at once. The thickness of him split you open, a hoarse cry ripping through your throat as you clutched at his shoulders. God, you were such a needy little girl.

Simon drew his hips back, lazily pounding his cock inside you again and again. “Tha’s it. Take me so well.” The tip of him brushed against your cervix and he silenced your mewling with a slap to the thigh. Rough and calloused fingers gripped the flesh, tugging your legs up so that they were over his shoulder. “Gonna pound this sweet lil’ cunt.” A darker and more twisted part of him relished in the way you begged for him to slow down.

“Fuckin’ scream f’me.” He growled in your ear, threading a hand through your hair so he could angle your neck to the side. The delicious burn of his teeth sinking into your skin had you clenching around him. “Oh f-fuck, luvie.” He gasped, his hips stuttering before he was slamming his cock inside you relentlessly.

“You’re mine.”

“Mine t’fuck. Mine t’love.” One hand reached between you, rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. White-hot pleasure sent you jolting underneath him, squirming around and trying to get the overwhelming bliss to stop. “Stay fuckin’ still.” Simon growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.

Simon watched you go all dumb on his cock, your eyes rolling back in your head as you clawed at his hand. He only tightened his grip further, his cock so hard he felt like he might explode. The way you were tightening around him, the way your lips parted, every little sound you made sent him spiralling.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled your shared bedroom, Simon’s balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. “No one’s ever gonna touch you.” He rasped, his own movements getting sloppy.

“Gonna cum real hard f’me?” The only response you could give was frantic nodding and little squeaks with the way he was constricting your airflow. “Gonna- oh, fuck. Gonna make me proud?” Everything felt amplified, and Simon felt drunk, dizzy off the haze of your perfume. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking greedily against your pulse point. “Give me tha’ pretty pussy.”

You could hear every tortured noise he made in your ear, and Simon could feel the way your cunt was fluttering around him. “C’mon, dovie, make me- christ, make me cum inside you.” Your nails raked down his back, leaving trails of desire in their wake. You couldn’t breathe, you could barely see, all that existed was Simon. And then he pinched at your clit and you were falling.

“Oh, atta’ girl.” He groaned. “Good girl, good girl.. gonna make me-” Hot, thick ropes of cum spilled inside you. Simon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he bit down on your neck, letting out a deep, raspy moan. Before you could catch your breath, two large hands wrapped around your waist, flipping you over on the bed. You head was pushed down into the pillow, Simon gripping at the flesh of your hip to tug your ass up into the air.

“You don’t think m’done with you yet, d’you, dove?”

[yearning-for-autumn]

pls oh pls oh pls can you write something with jealous/possessive azriel. not like dark and toxic but ya know. ur night at the opera was great

My Love, Mine all Mine

A/N: I loved this request, and I loved writing this. I'm scared to put this out into the world because it's probably the filthiest thing I've ever written, but I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 871

Warnings: Absolutely sinful smut, face slapping (but like you enjoy it), jealous/possessive Azriel

“Mine.” He growled, teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your neck. You whimper and his grin is feral as he licks over the mark, soothing the hurt. Your neck and shoulders are already littered with bites and bruises, but it would take much more to satisfy Azriel.

He knew it was irrational to be this jealous, Cassian was a flirt and always had been. But when he saw you giggling, batting your eyelashes at his brother in arms, he couldn’t help the primal rage that consumed him. He grabbed your arm, knowing deep down you were trying to provoke him. His shadows swirled around your throat, and Cassian’s laughter was the last thing either of you heard before you were winnowed up to his room. Azriel was on you in an instant, frustrated, angry, his teeth close to drawing blood.

“Need to make them know you’re mine.” He mumbled against your skin. All clothes had been shoved off by now, and you were lying prone beneath him. His hips rutted against the bed as he lay on top of you, restraining you with his body weight, pinning you beneath him. His scarred hands held yours over your head so that even as you wriggled you were helpless to escape. He snarled.

“Where are you trying to go, Bunny? Hmm?” And you gave up. He chuckled lowly.

“If you want to be free so much, here.” He pulled you up and sat up against the headboard, patting his thighs. “Come ride me.”

If you weren’t already wet enough to take him, you were now. So much so that your inner thighs glistened. Azriel dragged his gaze from your bitten neck, to your soaking centre. His shadows curled around your lower back, forcing you to crawl over and straddle his hips. Azriel lifted you so that you sat up on your knees and bent down, licking the wetness from your thighs. A gravelly moan emanated from deep in his chest. He loved to taste his girl. Your breath shallowed as he drew closer to your pussy with every swipe of his tongue, then he stopped just short of it. You whined,

“Azzie, please.” You begged, but were greeted only by a feral smirk. He pushed you down hard onto his cock without warning and you choked out a moan, the size of him filling every inch of you. Your head tipped back and your tongue lolled as he thrust upwards, setting a punishing pace, bouncing you feverishly in his lap as his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck yeah, f-fuck, you’re my girl. Say it. Say you’re my girl.” He groaned, his hands squeezing your bum as he lifted you up and dropping you down over and over. You slurred incoherently, unable to form thoughts more complex than ‘Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.’ This wasn’t enough and with an unnecessary show of strength he flipped you over, your legs trapped under him and hooked over his shoulders. A mating press. You squealed as his length twitched inside of you and he began pounding into you, brushing your cervix. His shadows swirled around you neck and squeezed. He laughed at something they whispered to him, but he didn’t share it with you. Leaning down, Azriel licked the shell of your ear, nibbled at your earlobe.

“I asked nicely, bunny.” He said lowly, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m your, I-I’m all yours.” You rasp, “I’m your girl, Azzie.”

“Fuck yeah you are. You’re not Cassie’s girl.” He growled.

“I-I wasn’t—” You were cut off with a smack, Azriel’s hand coming up to hit you across the cheek. Tears welled in your eyes at the sting, but it sent hot stripes of pleasure down your stomach. You shouldn’t love it, but Cauldron you did. Azriel cooed, rubbing his hand gently over your reddening cheek. He kissed you, so softly, his pace slowing to give you a much needed break. A few tears spilled over. Azriel looked down at you with an intensity of love that knocked the wind from you, you curled your fingers in his soft hair. Peppering you with little kisses he began thrusting into you again.

“I love you, babygirl.” He soothed, and you smiled up at him, cock drunk.

“I love you, Azzie.”

His hand snaked down between you to thumb at your clit and his pace picked up as he chased his release. Your own high was building quickly, your stomach tightening and head falling back against the pillows. You bucked your hips and tightened your fingers in his hair as you broke around him with a scream. Your vision blurred and your head felt dizzy. Azriel rode you through it, his forehead falling to yours as his hips stuttered and he filled you with his seed, claiming you. He came hard and by his pained moans, it felt amazing. Your hand stroked down the small of his back, encouragingly.

As he pulled out, a trail of cum came with him and you both stared at the utter mess he had made of you. You trailed a finger into it, and brought it up to your mouth, licking it clean as Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“Mm,” You moaned gently, “You’re all mine, Az.”

A/N: This is an established relationship fic, I firmly believe Azriel would have already established sexy boundaries with you. And best believe the aftercare after this would be second to none. Anyway, thank you for requesting!

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Hello, thank you for writing the imagine, I loved it so much, I came to torment you again and ask if you could write another one? *3* Hannigram x reader, some hilarious situation where they get jealous but the reader doesn't notice lol which ends up resulting in a smut hihi

Hey again!! ❤️ not a torment at all, thanks for requesting once more!! Im soooo excited for this i havent written much jealousy for them!!!!

———

After the final guest of Hannibal’s dinner party had finally left, you felt like you could breathe once again. It had been a long night of both entertaining and running around to make sure things went smoothly.

Your heels came off first, and you groaned with relief. You had been so wrapped up with everything that you hadn’t noticed Will or Hannibal brooding for the last hour.

What caused their ill humor was a burning jealousy, but not one you had consciously caused. Instead, Dr. Chilton was to blame.

My, you two, I did not think you would show off your conquest so… brazenly. But I cannot say I blame you. That sort of beauty is best admired up close, don’t you think?

And lo and behold, they had seen him introducing himself to you later on. They couldn’t hear your conversation, but they still noticed his efforts to make you laugh. Still, they didn’t want to cause a scene.

On your end of things, Frederick had been charming but respectful, just another one of Hannibal and Will’s acquaintances that you didn’t think much of. You were unaware of just how much he liked getting a rise out of your partners, simply because it amused him.

You found them in the kitchen, Hannibal putting away wine glasses while Will leaned against the counter nursing glass of scotch. You approached him with a tired but content smile, intent on undoing his tie for him.

He observed you quietly for a moment, a muscle in his jaw still twitching with leftover tension.

“Long night, I know,” you said, misreading his expression. “My social battery’s completely drained, too.”

“Some people were enjoying themselves perhaps too much,” Hannibal said. “You stirred much interest.”

“Me?” You said, confused. “Well, I was trying to be a good hostess.”

“A very beautiful one, at that,” Will added.

You blushed a little, grinning. “I did get some compliments here and there.”

He made a hmph sound and in the next moment, he drew you in for a kiss. You chuckled softly, now understanding the possessiveness of his action.

Hannibal set down the glasses and approached as well. Without breaking the kiss with Will, you reached back for him.

But instead of letting you bring him closer, he kneeled behind you.

“What’s gotten into you!?” You gasped as Hannibal yanked down your panties, hiking up your dress.

“I have to have you,” he rasped. “I need your taste.”

He was usually the less frantic of the two, but it seemed his composure had been thrown out the window. To see him like that ignited something deep in your core.

Will grasped your chin and brought your lips back to his. You moaned into his mouth at the first swipe of Hannibal’s tongue.

Jealousy always led to their passionate reclaiming of you, and you were already aware that you had a long, long night ahead of you. Perhaps you would have to find ways to make it happen more often.

——

[fandomlit]

reunited (sirius black x reader)

summary after a year free from azkaban, sirius is dying to leave number twelve grimmauld place. but after a year of also craving to see you, one of his wishes is met.

warnings mentions of loneliness and depression

a/n if you couldn't tell i'm on a harry potter kick rn (requests please!!!)

gif cred belongs to @peaceseller

sirius was losing his mind sitting around headquarters. with little to do other than to stare at his family's old possessions and vanquish bitter creatures (and kreatcher), he was beginning to harbor a feeling similar to his time in azkaban--not nearly as hopeless, but just as desperately bored.

he heard the door open from the armchair he had been lounging in and a voice gasp, "professor l/n!" before the screeches of his mother filled the hall. he jumped to his feet--not due to the screams, he was truly becoming used to that--but at the sound of your name.

someone managed to close the curtains around his mother's portrait as he practically ran down the stairs. the last time he had glimpsed you had been too brief, not even being able to show you that he was there in his disguised animagus form. when dumbledore told him he had recruited you, sirius was less than surprised, but desperate for the day you would finally drop by headquarters. when after fourteen long years, he would get to speak to you. and, as he reached the last step, you were finally here.

"old bat never liked me," you were chuckling, shaking your head at harry, ron, and hermione as you faced the drawn curtains. "screamed very similar to that in person, as well." ron spoke something to you just as your gaze landed on sirius, who was still clutching the banister with his mouth slightly agape.

you were just as beautiful as the day he last saw you. your face was more mature than he had last seen and you were an inch or two taller, but you still had that bright glint in your eyes, like you were always on the verge of a joke, and a confidence in your stance that no one he had ever met managed to compare to.

he was muttering your name before he even realized it. he was acutely aware of the trio flipping their gazes between the two of you.

you smiled fondly at him. "sirius black, you finally grew out your hair!"

he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he opened his arms, walking toward you quicker than he would have cared for you to acknowledge. luckily, you met him halfway and let his arms squeeze you tightly to him. he let out an unconscious laugh.

"holy merlin, i never thought i'd ever touch you again," he confessed before realizing how odd it sounded. but you only responded with a laugh of your own.

"me neither," you confessed, drawing black slightly to see his grinning face. "but lord am i glad you're not the murderer the world was tricked to think." his smile dimmed in the slightest, but even those difficult thoughts couldn't weigh his heart down. you were actually here. "how's the old house treating you?"

he raised his eyebrows at you. "really? just going to keep bringing up the worst things of my day-to-day?"

you let out a laugh that he couldn't help but grin at. "i'm sorry, i am." you smiled fondly again as you two drew completely apart, but sirius kept your hand clamped in his and you squeezed it to show you didn't mind it. you shook your head at him. "godric, you look good! for a convict and blood traitor, you look like a dream, sirius!"

he let out a loud laugh this time, glimpsing the trio all trading glances behind you two. "you should see yourself! hogwarts has been kind to you, my dear." you let out a surprised sound at the old nickname. "you haven't changed an ounce, y/n. you're the same woman i dreamed of on my worst nights."

he took pride in the pink that crept up your neck. "you're a slightly aged version of the man i couldn't keep out of my dreams," you admitted. sirius smiled. "no matter what they said about you sirius.. my mind could never let you go."

he pressed your locked hands to his heart, soft gaze holding yours in what he hoped didn't look at all like the desperation he felt. "now it never has to." you pulled him into a wordless hug before he slipped his arm around your shoulders and lead you toward the kitchen.

sirius knew that later, away from the eyes of the curious teenagers of the house, you two would share a heavy hearted moment. one where he wouldn't be able to deny himself the exhaustion of his hardships in your presence, which has always been able to get past his tough, playful facade. but for now, the way you smiled and joked and radiated in his presence gripped his heart in a way that wasn't at all like he had felt in years.

[hanchette]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ( wind breaker character togame )

a/n: i went to a hot spring and drew this, it's extremely short I don't have anything in mind but relaxing with jo

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationship — onsen with togame

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who invites you out for the onsen, where the two of you are somehow lucky to be alone together—the last person has exited after the two of you, it is an onsen that's inclusive as well.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who places your towel neatly on your head when he sees it slipping down. "whoops, that was close, darl'." and throws you a lopsided grin.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, "is it getting too hot for ya'?" guy when he touches your warm face, brushing his knuckles on your cheek.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who pokes at your side and shoulder to get you to look at him eye to eye—but how could you when his body is in front of you? he's toned, wide at the shoulder, back but not—wide. possessing a good body that always get you googling at. "what?" he knows, knows that you're looking, hand reaching to cover your eyes with a snicker, "stop starin', gonna make me all shy."

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who takes your hand, asking for assurance if you're already too hot and need a break, his words mouthed on the palm of your hand, pressing sweet and chaste kisses on them. "you okay?"

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who finished getting dress before you, waiting by the lobby with a bottled green tea as he's sitting on a bench, his yukata a perfect fit on him with the way you can see a window of his.. chest, "yo." he smiles when he catches sight of you.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, brushing his wet hair back, yawning as he did so, "think you could help me dry this later?" he asks you, gesturing at his wet hair that's clinging on his skin.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who pulls you outside, his geta clicking against the stone as you walk through the garden, his hand firm as he holds yours in his. "wanna show you something."

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, who brings you to a quaint little bridge, the lanterns are your only guide and the stars shining brightly in the night sky, the moon shining down on you.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, "the moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" and you know. you know it is.

omake : "where did you learn to say that?" "hm? ah, i saw it on your liked videos on your social media."

[theoldsports]

Matrimony

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words

SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.

THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.

The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.

Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.

She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?

[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.

If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.

[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.

He looked at me.

The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.

Darling,

Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.

And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.

C.B.S.

He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.

[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.

Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.

The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.

[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.

Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.

She sighed. For better or worse.

[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.

She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.

Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.

She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.

Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.

“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”

“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.

“It’s… yeah, but—“

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“

“I don’t wanna ruin today—“

“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.

“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.

“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.

“What?”

Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”

“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”

“So?”

“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”

[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”

Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”

“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.

—

[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.

After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.

[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.

Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.

Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.

[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.

I’ve got you.

When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.

I’ve got you.

Everything had to be lovely.

The wedding had to be lovely.

“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.

[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.

The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.

Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.

He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.

[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?

Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.

I’ve got you.

What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.

Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.

“I didn’t.”

“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.

“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”

“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.

The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.

The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.

What happened to I’ve got you.

“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.

“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”

[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.

“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.

He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.

Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.

Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.

“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.

Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.

Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.

I’ve got you.

“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.

“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.

“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”

Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.

—

Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.

[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?

[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.

“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.

“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.

“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”

“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.

“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?

[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.

“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”

[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”

“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?

“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”

“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Odd topic choice.”

“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”

“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.

“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“

“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.

If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.

[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.

“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.

Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.

“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.

“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.

“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”

Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.

[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”

Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”

There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.

“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.

Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.

[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.

Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.

“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.

“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.

Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.

[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.

“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”

“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.

Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”

She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.

“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”

[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.

“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s adequate?”

“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”

“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”

“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”

Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.

Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.

The sex, however, was anything but transactional.

By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.

Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.

[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.

Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.

She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.

Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.

This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.

“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.

“I love you too.”

It was almost the truth.

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar @kaealowri @weeeoosworld @dilucpegg3r @bai-wuxiangs-mask @kisstheskin

as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi, I would like to ask for a rafe with ''Let's worry about the consequences later.'' and 'I would never let anyone or anything hurt you.'' with a reader pogue

Request: John B.'s older sister/Rafe's past girlfriend get kidnapped instead of Kiara + Rafe comforting you at night

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The worst thing that could happen after getting rescued by this suspicious pilot happened. You should’ve saved your ass and followed the others instead of helping the pilot and swimming in the other direction. If you had, you would not have been separated from the rest of the pogues or gotten taken and kidnapped by some strong-armed men.

You were brought to a lavish compound guarded by lots of armed guards, locked in a room and told to be ready for dinner at 8pm. Various sizes of the same red dress were waiting in a closet with a note that said ‘pick your size’. You felt like a doll forced to play real-life dress up.

When the clock struck 8, a maid unlocked your door and brought you downstairs to meet your captor — Carlos Singh —, but when you got there, you found Rafe Cameron instead. He was looking out a window, his back facing you, but you knew it was him.

‘’Rafe?’’

He turned around, his familiar blue eyes looking back at you. His head was buzzed and he was wearing a white button up and a blue blazer, looking as handsome as you remembered. You would have been happy to see him if he had not chosen that stupid cross over you that day on the Coastal Venture.

‘’You’re a part of this?!’’

Rafe drew his eyebrows together in a frown. ‘’I don't know what you're talking about, but I’m here for business. I’m meeting a possible buyer for the cross.’’

That damn cross again…

Before you could exchange more words, a man with a perfectly cut beard and wearing a tailored suit walked in with a drink in one hand. ‘’You two know each other, right?’’ He shifted his eyes between you and Rafe, amusement curling on his lips when he sensed a tension between you two. ‘’Shall we head for dinner? We have some things to discuss.’’

With a chill in your bones, you followed Carlos to the dining area.

You tensed when you felt a hand on the small of your back, but relaxed when you realized it was Rafe’s and not one of Carlos’ men’s. Your trust in him was broken, but you knew he wouldn’t let anyone in this house get their hands on you.

A nice table had been set with place settings for three. The food looked delicious, and your stomach felt tight from having not eaten anything since last night, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat anything. In this property, your life was on a thin line and all you could think about was staying on your guard.

Less than three minutes into the dinner, Carlos asked about Denmark Tanney’s diary. He suspected one of you to have it since the only way to find the emplacement of the cross was through the diary. Unlike Rafe, you knew what Carlos was talking about, but unfortunately you did not have it in your possession.

‘’I know one of you knows something. When you give me the diary, I’ll let you go. Until then,’’ Carlos glanced at the guards and with a tilt of his head, you and Rafe were escorted to that same room they had locked you in.

In the room, Rafe was pacing, trying to not spiral into panic.

‘’I got a boat. I can get us off the island, but first we gotta get out of here.’’

You sat on the end of the bed, evaluating your options, but beside the diary there was none. ‘’The door is locked from the outside and there’s security all over the house and property. We’re stuck.’’

You were usually more optimistic, but this place was a fucking fortress.

‘’Please tell me you know where that damn diary is,’’ Rafe pleaded, kneeling down in front of your sitting figure. 

You shook your head. You had heard your brother talk about Denmark Tanney’s diary, but you had never touched or seen it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

When the night came, you changed into a gray silk pajama you found in the drawers. You felt like an imposter in those clothes. It was a lot more fancy than the old band tee shirts and bunny print pajama pants you wore at home.

‘’I look ridiculous,’’ you said when coming out of the bathroom, feeling uncomfortable.

Rafe’s eyes looked you over, swiping his tongue over his lips when noticing your nipples poking through the delicate silk. ‘’I think you look…nice.’’ It wasn’t his initial adjective of choice, but your relationship was too strained for a spicier compliment.

You felt warmth creeping on your cheeks. ‘’Shut up.’’

You crossed the room and hid beneath the bed covers. After sleeping outside on mattresses made of braided leaves for the past month, a soft mattress and a warm duvet comforter felt like laying on a fucking cloud.

Although you were warm and comfortable, sleep didn’t come to you.

After seeing the way Carlos handled the ones who crossed him, you couldn’t stop hearing the gunshot that took Jimmy Portis’s life. He said you and Rafe had until tomorrow to tell him where the diary is, making you the nexts on his list.

With shaking hands and a rapid heartbeat, you sat up and peered down the bed. Rafe offered to sleep on the floor, taking a sole cushion from the bed for pillow.

‘’Rafe?’’ you whispered in the dark. 

He hummed sleepily, only half asleep.

‘’Can you come sleep in the bed with me? I…I’m scared.’’

You didn’t hear any movement so you assumed Rafe had gone back to sleep, but you saw a shadow standing up. Although your relationship never properly ended and you didn’t know where it stood, Rafe never stopped loving you. He cared deeply about you and his protective instinct was to make you feel safe.

He slid under the covers beside you and you reached for him, clung to him like he was your lifeline. ‘’I’m here,’’ he reassured, snaking an arm around your scared frame. ‘’And I’m not gonna let go of you this time.’’

Saving the cross instead of helping you when you fell overboard was something he regretted immensely. He should’ve taken your hand instead of grabbing the rope and trying to save the cross. Rafe wasn’t strong enough to hold the cross by himself, it was going to fall off the boat anyway.

‘’Promise?’’ You tilted your head to look up at him.

He grabbed your hands to hold in his and sealed his promise with a kiss on your joined hands. '’I would never let anyone or anything hurt you. I’ve let things come between us in the past, but I’m done with that.''

‘’What are we gonna do, Rafe? Without the diary, we’re dea—’’

A finger shut your lips before you could finish your sentence. ‘’I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? Whatever it takes. Let's worry about the consequences later.’’

Rafe didn’t have a plan, but if he needed to kill Carlos Singh with his bare hands, he would. 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[yandere-sins]

Guard #500

a/n: It's been a hot minute but I just got this idea for our beloved prince so I just went for it. Hopefully it comes across as fun as I had while writing it ♥

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Malleus Draconia x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Malleus eating out reader, Mentioning of a one-night-stand), Abuse of authority, Manipulation, Mentioning of Reader unintentionally cutting on a knife (but no further actions in that regard), Mentioning of knifes/assassination/dead/dying, Slightly unhinged behavior from the Yandere, Slightly gorey description, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

There was something especially cruel about having your failure rubbed into your face.

He didn't even need to say anything, much less move. It was enough for your former target to stand outside your cell, unfortunately, alive and well, taunting you with his silence. Malleus Draconia was probably the most feared name one could hear when you were sent to prison for your crimes. And the more grave your crime was, the more you had to fear him.

"It doesn't suit you," he finally said after staring at you for a long time. 

The two other guards at his side eyed him, confused about his statement. You stopped pretending to read your book, an activity you abandoned the moment he stepped up to your cell. Your mind was too nervous to concentrate on the words, but even so, you had the desire to pretend he wasn't there, hoping he'd leave.

"I don't know much about fashion—I should ask Schoenheit about that," he directed the last few words at his fellow officers rather than you. "But orange doesn't seem to suit you."

"Unfortunately," you sighed, pretending not to have a nervous tension all throughout you just from speaking in his presence. "The dress you saw me in last was just too pretty for prison."

"Unfortunate, indeed."

More silence, and you finally put down the book, looking up at him. You held no personal grudge against the man. He hadn't done anything to you yet. It had been a failed assassination, one you had been paid for and which would give you a nice retirement once you got out. Some guy stuck in this prison with you wanted him dead, hired you, and now the biggest blow was that to your ego. 

Malleus Draconia, however, still sent shivers down your spine.

He had that authoritarian aura around him and the piercing green eyes to match. When your gaze met his across the dancefloor of his private estate, you had felt your heart miss out a beat, your body tensing, trying to decide whether to run or approach. Something about him just drew you in, magically even. And at the same time, you felt like prey even though you were hunting him. It had been him who had walked up to you first, asked for a dance, and you foolishly agreed, letting him sweep you over the floor and into his bedroom like a fool. You could have killed him there, easily, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. 

But you couldn't. Not when he looked at you with the adoration of a lover. He was a rare jewel you could never possess, but you seemed to be the treasure of a lifetime in his eyes. 

Never before had you let anyone deter you from your goals. Becoming an assassin hadn't been an easy task, betrayel your every-day business. You took advantage of your victims for as long as you needed, and then you stabbed them in the back, not caring if they knew it was you, cursing you with their dying breaths. But you did it well. Discreet and highly compensated, you thought that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

So why did the memory of that night still heat up your face?

You wanted to appear cool and unbothered by him now that you two were locked in this prison together. But how could you when you still remembered the dragging of his fingertips along your skin? The reverent way he parted your legs to fit himself between them, like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

How could you forget the way his scent drafted all around you? His sheets, his hair, his body rubbing against yours, melting you into a malleable silhouette of passion and desire. If you took off your clothes, it was most likely you'd still find a hickey or lovebite left behind in the moments of pure lust, and when you touched yourself at night, you still imagined his image that of a slightly disheveled god looking down on you with the mercy and the grace of a servant. 

At this point, you thought you saw Malleus' smile widen as if he could read your thoughts. Perhaps you never had the kind of pokerface you thought you did. But one way or another, he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking of, even if just because he was thinking of it, too. 

"I liked you so much better, draped in my green sheets. But that's nothing that can't be arranged even now. I look forward to your next attempt, little assassin."

He left, appearing pleased with himself, to the absolute horror of you and the two other guards, who took a double take at their superior before shooting you dirty glances. That's right, you thought, almost wanting to say out loud, "I fucked your great Malleus Draconia."

But you didn't. Instead, you shrugged, feigning your return to read your book nonchalantly as if nothing that happened was a big deal. You had no beef with them, and trying to hide your embarrassment by sticking your nose in your book was better than letting them see how failure raked its claws over your back.

It felt almost the same as how Malleus had done it. 

"Is this-- this even allowed?"

Your head fell back the moment you uttered your momentary concerns. Driving your fingers through the silky black hair, Malleus' eyes shot upwards, the green ever so piercing. However, instead of the fight and flight from before, now, the only thing it caused inside you was desire. 

Everything about him was so regal, from how he knelt on only one knee beneath you, to how supportive his shoulder was to your leg draped over it. His hands were buried in your hips, enough to keep you steady but also to direct you exactly where he needed you to be. You were a helpless mess, whining when he pulled his tongue torturously slowly out of your cunt, and you bit your lip when he licked over his, your slick making them shine like some kind of fruity gloss. 

"Do you not like it?" he murmured from between your legs, taking another full drag through your folds as if he was licking the spoon after eating a delicious dessert. "I suppose it hardly measures up to the splendor outside this prison, but I hope you can appreciate my gift to you."

"All I did was get beaten up by my employee, and you gift me a whole-ass cell for myself, prettied up to make it look like your room?"

You weren't sure whether to freak out or to laugh. Not having to share the public amenities and a room with three other stinky inmates was undoubtedly a welcome gift. Still, you were hardly deserving of it after trying to kill the man who presented you with it now. 

"I'm still sorry about that; I should have come earlier," his gaze dropped, the light diminishing as he looked at your stomach. The bruise wasn't forming yet, but you knew it would come sooner than later. Even if you trained yourself to be a better assassin, you weren't immune to damage. 

"But I promise to make up for it."

His eyes darted back to meet yours. Gone was the moment of regret; now, all that you saw before they lidded in the process of staying true to his words, was determination. 

You felt his tongue slide back over your clit, the unnatural longness of it wrapping briefly around the nub before he began to suck. There must have been a world record somewhere for getting Malleus Draconia to eat you out, but he, surprisingly, proved to wear the badge of honor when it came to servicing someone. 

It was wrong, but it felt so good.

Biting your finger, you held back the moans as you felt him probe at your entrance again. However, another uncomfortable thought crossed your mind, and as you pulled the finger from between your teeth, Malleus entered you, slipping right along your walls and making you buckle over.

You were glad for him supporting your body, feeling as if you might collapse there and then. "W-What about the others?" you stuttered, unable to shake the feeling even though his actions were very much shaking you. "What will they think if they hear us?"

"Let 'em," Malleus muttered against your pussy, not sounding so dignified with his tongue inside you. "They can 'now who you belon' to."

"Sir!" you gasped, only to let a loud moan escape. It was hard enough to keep up with your worries while your inside clenched around his tongue as if your life depended on it—although he seemed to not mind it in the least. Still, you didn't want to hear dirty talk from someone who was supposed to hate you more than anyone else. And although you felt a real orgasm build, hard and fast, you couldn't shake the embarrassment of being paraded to his goons.

"W-Wait, stop!"

God, you hated yourself. You were so close.

However, Malleus complied. Immediately, all movements ceased, and he looked back up at you, expecting your next command. You were troubled with catching your breath first, but eventually, you shook your head, and you felt the drag of his tongue as it pulled out—not without its tip going left and right, mind you, tasting as much as it could. 

"You've done—ngh!—done enough. I appreciate it, really. But I can't accept this—any of it! I just... I can't. This has to stop."

Malleus stayed silent, gazing at you with a mix of disappointment and, what you could only describe, defiant refusal. "We will not," he finally concluded, and you gave him a confused look as he gently dropped your leg to the side so you could stand on it again before getting up. 

"Is this not exciting for you? Have I been neglecting your needs? Given how... wet you are, I thought I was going in the right direction, but I can improve my technique if you give me pointers."

"W-What? No! It was fine—great! You were doing everything right, it's just..." Your shoulders sacked as you gestured around the room. "I shouldn't be rewarded like this for trying to kill you. Look, I have nothing against you personally. It was just a job. And what we had was great, but it wasn't that good for you to treat me like this. I mean, shouldn't you hate me? Why are you doing this?"

To your complete bafflement, Malleus chuckled while you were getting worked up about the weird circumstances you two were in.

"Hate you? How could I? You led me right to the people who wanted me dead in the first place. I recognize your role as a pawn in the scheme, but is that it? Do you think this to be boring, now that it is just between you and me? Do you miss the excitement of getting a job done?"

Turning sharply on his heels, every one of his moves so deliberate yet fluid, he stepped over to a small box on the table, opening it and taking something out of it. Turning towards you again, he only needed to snap it open to reveal the sharp, silver blade of a knife that you thought must have definitely been illegal to be brought into this prison.

"I thought of this, too, you see. That you might need some more excitement. So, here."

Taking your hand in his, he placed the cold jack knife in your hand, directing its tip towards him. When you looked up at him in shock, you could hardly figure out what he was thinking. You thought yourself good at reading expressions and little signs, but with Malleus' formal training, it was hard to make anything out. With the eyes of madness and the smile of adoration on his face, you couldn't make out a single thought in that head of his. 

"Go on, do it. Stab me, cut me, rip me open if you must. Make a mess of my body. And then let me return to where I belong, at your feet, between your legs. Let me nourish on your juices so it may be the last taste on my lips before I perish. And when I am down there, please use me for your desires so you might remember me fondly as well."

"You're crazy," you muttered, doing the only right thing you could in this situation—pulling the knife back to the point you cut yourself before throwing it to the ground so he would stop almost piercing himself on it. 

"Hm, crazy," he pondered, nodding his head thoughtfully. Even in the face of this situation, with his eyes closed, his face serene as a moonlit night, and his hair ever so slightly disheveled from you meddling with it before, he seemed completely composed. He looked nothing but otherworldly, as if he shouldn't be walking among humans but belonged to the creatures written in books. It was unnerving, just like his words. 

Malleus could have had anyone. Surely people would line up to just awe at him for a split second. They'd pay more than you could ever earn in your measly life just to be regarded by him once. Yet, he choose the assassin who wanted to murder him. Who failed yet helped him. You thought you'd eventually meet your employer now that you were in the same prison and get a reminder not to speak of who hired you. You didn't know Malleus would be watching, being able to figure out who wanted him dead just by observing you. 

And because of this, and perhaps the fling you two had on the night of his assassination attempt, he'd come to want you.

"Perhaps I am "crazy". It doesn't feel bad," he admitted, opening his eyes again to look at you. Nothing of the unreadable curse you saw before remained in his gaze. Only pure, unfiltered adoration now filled it. He looked at you like only someone madly in love could. You never thought someone could ever look this way at you, and if not for the nagging fight or flight instinct returning to the forefront of your mind, it almost pulled at your heartstrings.

But before you could react, he leaned forward, picking you up. You squeaked as he lifted you high in the air, your legs wrapping around his torso instinctively. He walked as if you weighed nothing, carefree and playful, tilting his head to nib at your hand that was gripping his uniform jacket before mending the agitation on your skin with a few pecks of his lips.

You eyed the door, waging your options. If you hammered against it, screaming for help, the two guards Malleus left in front of it might think he's in trouble and come in, even though he ordered them to stay outside. Something felt terribly off with this man you once thought to be this elegant, otherworldly prince who could do no wrong. You thought he joined the side of justice to keep up his image, but the amount of mercy he was showing you and only you bordered on selfishness.

It would be better to leave before it was too late. You shouldn't humor a beast that seemed to be starving, fixating itself on the only prey that had no choice but to obey when it was in a helpless position. 

"Crazy or not, stabbing me or not. Either way, let's return to the matter at hand: you didn't cum yet, did you? However am I going to deal with it if my darling is dissatisfied with me?"

In a swooshing motion, you were thrown forward, falling right on your back, only to be caught in softness and comfort. The mattress of the bed he provided you with molded to your body, the pillows and sheets guaranteeing you a good night's sleep on imaginary clouds. And even better support for other activities.

"And just so you know..." Malleus added, climbing on top of you, straightening his back only to pull off his jacket before he hovered closer than ever to you. As if he had to completely erase any distance keeping him from you, his body sticking against yours like a magnet. He was mesmerizingly pretty and you still couldn't believe what he was doing. All of this was wrong, and some feral instincts from a century ago feared he'd rip out your throat as he buried his face beneath your chin, kissing along your neck. 

"I soundproofed the room but I plan to let everyone hear us."

You gulped, and he chuckled, involuntarily feeling the movement press against his lips. 

"You already belong to me," he stated matter-of-factly as his face popped up in front of yours again. You looked at the door once more, fearing it was too late. You were trapped, caught like a princess by the dragon, but there was no knight in shining armor to save you. 

"And I'll prove it to everyone and you if I must."

[fuckmymunson]

💌 a/n: Tiny fic because a lovely person brought to my attention that I haven't write anything about Eddie and a Inexperienced!Reader. I hope you like it! I don't know why I had a little trouble writing this, considering I'm a sex eminence.

CW: 18+, smut! oral sex (f), PiV sex!, minors DNI!

His tongue traced the curve of your hips, delighted by the scent and the faint taste of your body wash. Your hands caressed his untamed curls, brushing some strands away from his face. 

“Can I?” Eddie asked, as he hooked his fingers on the elastic of your underwear. You nodded, generating a pout from his lips. “Words, Stargirl, words”

“Yes, please” You squealed, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Good girl” He purred and slid your panties down. 

His strong, calloused hands spread your thighs slowly, admiring every curve and freckle your legs had. You watched him in awe, his eyes dripped with love and adoration, scanning every inch of skin. The vulnerability hit you in a wave of shame. You tried to close your legs but his hands on them prevented you from it. 

“Angel, don’t hide yourself from me” Eddie begged. 

“It was a reflex…” You lied, to which he arched an eyebrow. “Fine, I’m nervous”

“Don’t be” He said, simply shrugging.

“Wha—” You attempted to protest but his tongue sliding between your folds caught you by surprise as your question broke into a high-pitched moan. “F—Fuck”

Eddie hummed, pleased by your reaction as his tongue circled your clit slowly. He knew it was your first time being eaten out, so he wanted to take his time, to see what made you shiver and moan, he had all night after all. 

His mouth sucked on your clit, making your back arch as a gasp escaped from your throat. Your hand tightened its grip on his hair and you saw how Eddie’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, groaning against your pussy. The view was amazing. He worked without problems and before you noticed it your hips were rolling against his face as you rubbed your wet cunt on him.

“Sorry!” You gasped again, releasing his hand from your vicious grip. 

Eddie drew away from your soaked cunt, licking his lips in a sensual motion. “Don’t apologize, use me, princess” 

One of his fingers teased your entrance, slowly pushing in. Eddie was aware of your lack of experience, and he knew the brief details of how disastrous your first time was, so he decided to show you everything you were missing, starting with the basics: An orgasm.

Without hesitation, he returned his attention to your clit, now feeling like a man with a mission. Eddie groaned when he felt a new wave of your slick coating his fingers, he absolutely adored feeling your cunt drowning for him. 

Your moans increased in volume, slowly, since he was working you up slowly. Eddie’s mission was to overstimulate you, not to overwhelm you. 

The constant clenching of your pussy on his finger and how your back arched, how your hand returned to his hair, how you whined his name lost in bliss, the pleasant feeling of being loved that in fact you had never experienced before on its full state, was mindblowing. 

“Cum, please” He mumbled, licking your clit side to side. His voice was low, possessed with lust and desire.

A desire for you.

And you did, you came for the first time ever by another person’s ministrations, not by your own hand. Your legs closed involuntarily, squeezing his cheeks with your soft thighs. Your ears ringed at the pressure, it was fantastic. 

“Look at you, cumming in less than five minutes” Eddie teased, licking his finger clean without any shame. 

“It’s not my fault!” You groaned, pushing him by the shoulder with your bare foot. “Fuck you”

“Okay, if you say so” Eddie replied with a mischievous smile and quickly crouched on top of you. His still-wet lips met your neck, licking it and biting it. “Are you okay with this?” He asked, concern overlaying his voice. He would never do something to upset you.

“It is” You breathed out, still tired from your first orgasm, which made you suspect it won’t be the last one. 

“Can you feel me?” Eddie’s teasing tone returned as soon as he got your consent. His hips rolled against your naked body, rubbing the outline of his hard cock on his jeans on your sensitive, wet pussy. 

“Ugh, yes” You moaned, the sensitiveness enhancing the pleasure. 

It didn’t take him long to strip down and rub the flushed, leaking tip of his cock against your cunt. He tap the tip on your clit a few times for good measure, panting when you cried in pleasure. He wanted it, he needed it. He wanted to show you only he could bring you closer to heaven.

“I’ll be careful,” He said against your lips, as he guided his cock inside you. 

He watched how your body shivered, allowing him in with ease. Eddie stopped halfway, letting you get accustomed to the unusual sensation. When you moved your hips a little, he hissed in delight, trying so hard not to blow his load right there, because Oh God you looked so pretty it was agonizing. 

“Please, move” You pleaded in the sweetest, most adorable voice. 

“Of course, my princess” Eddie compiled and sink all the way in, groaning loudly at the sensation.

Soon, he moved at a bed-pushing speed. Neither of you cared if the whole trailer was shaking by the speed and force of his thrust. He was abusing your poor, tight, and slutty cunt, and you loved it. Eddie closed his eyes, ready to burst.

As if you appeared to read his thoughts, you cupped his cheeks. His chocolate eyes fixated on you, glassy and clouded with craving. “Inside me, please”

That did it. A few more thrusts and thick, hot cum filled you all the way to the brim, you were amazed and taken back by the sensation— But— It didn’t stop there. His thumb traveled down, rubbing your clit whilst he continued snapping his hips against your body at a slower pace. He was purposefully overstimulating himself to make you cum. So, you did, saturated with love and pleasure. Your dripping cunt clenched around him almost painfully, making him whine. It took you more time to recover from this orgasm, feeling drained to the limit.

“Sorry you had to do all the job” You apologized, covering your face with your arms. It wasn’t the first time you felt insecure by not being good enough (sexually speaking) for him. 

“Stop that, we are having a nice moment” Eddie rolled his eyes and laid down next to you, cuddling you, kissing your head. “I will do all the job if I need to, just as long as you are happy”

“I am happy” You replied, kissing his nose. “But I do wish I could do more for you… you know”

“Well, that can be arranged”

“Can I suck you off?”

Eddie blushed, taken back by your sudden boldness.

“Just gimme five minutes”