𝙼𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛

Y'ALL IM FUCKING BEGGING SOMEONE NEEDS TO WRITE SOME FRED HECHINGER x male reader rnnnn 😫😫

You're just a woman acting like a man pretending to be something you're not, you have a damn 😺 be so frr. Go out into the real world and see what a real CIS man looks like, hope this helps!

Ok, lol it's funny that you tell me I have a pussy. Have you looked? No? Stfu cunt. How about you come off anonymous fucking bitch. Your such a fuckin pussy that you can't even show your damn face, your embarrassing yourself babe ☠️☠️

Pelle hated trannys☹️☹️☹️

NOW WHO TF, GET TF OUT OF HERE

roommate au where coryo sucking sej off for the first time while sej eats you out and you guys realize that coryo literally has no gag reflex

mdni | you and sej find out coryo has no gag reflex

you are perched on sejanus’ face, thighs clamping tightly around his head as his tongue darts out to lick up the slick pooling at your cunt. he’s been nagging you all day, desperate to eat you out, and you finally relented. you buck your hips ever so slightly, careful not to put too much weight on him, moaning as he laves at your folds.

coryo is sitting at the end of the bed, watching sej’s cock harden in his sweatpants. his mouth goes dry—he’s been wanting to suck sejanus off for the longest time, but hasn’t had the courage to ask, usually he’s too busy shoving his own cock down your throat, or fighting with sej as to who gets to fuck your ass.

but tonight, he can see the way sej thrusts his hips into the air, hands grasping firmly at your thighs as he eats you out. coryo crawls over to sej, and begins to palm at his clothed cock. sejanus moans against your cunt, the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

‘coryo,’ you begin, craning your neck to see him steadily tugging down sej’s sweatpants and boxers.

‘i wanna suck sej off,’ he whines, causing you to cock a brow in surprise.

you can feel sej nodding under you, though his mouth is too distracted by licking your wet folds, lapping up the sweetness of your juices. you arch your back slightly, heat rushing to your core.

‘do you—ah!’ you’re cut off as the tip of sejanus’ tongue swirls around your clit, sending delicious waves of pleasure through your body. ‘do you know how to suck dick, coryo?’

coryo shakes his head, blonde curls bouncing angelically. you giggle, and begin to guide him through the motions. sej’s girthy cock is hard and throbbing beneath coryo’s hand, and he lets out a groan against your pussy as coryo begins to palm him.

‘give the tip a lick first, to tease him—with the flat of your tongue, of course,’ you murmur, shifting so you are sitting to face him, leaning a little forward so sej’s face is buried in you from behind.

coryo brings his pink tongue down to lick the head of sejanus’ cock, which is dribbling ever so slightly with precum, and his pretty eyes flutter shut. he swipes up the precum in one gesture, and you find yourself flooded with more heat at the sight of him like this.

‘good, sej likes that,’ you feel him hum against your cunt again, mouth wrapping around your clit so he can suckle at the sensitive nub.

‘now, take just the tip in your mouth, and bob your head up and down. you don’t wanna go too far at first because you might gag,’ you instruct, and coryo obliges.

he takes the aching tip of sejanus’ cock between his lips, and you sigh as you watch his plump lips wrap around him. but as he brings his head down further, you’re surprised to see that he is managing to take sejanus quite deep in his throat. coryo bobs his head a little, and sejanus’ hips thrust into his mouth.

‘seems like you know what you’re doing, coryo,’ you giggle, clenching your thighs around sejanus.

you feel the pit of your stomach ignite with warmth as sejanus’ tongue continues to lap at you, while you also watch coryo move his tongue up and down sejanus’ veiny, thick shaft.

‘fuck sej, wish you could see this,’ you let out a breathy sigh as coryo takes sej deeper down his throat.

you wait to hear him gag, to see tears sliding down his cheeks, but he’s got sejanus all the way down his throat, cock stretching out his lips, his nose brushing against the thick thatch of dark hair on sejanus’ pubic bone.

you can’t believe it, he doesn’t have a fucking gag reflex. coryo moves his mouth back up to the tip of sejanus’ cock, swirling his tongue around the dripping slit, and then takes him all the way back down his throat again. your mouth hangs open in awe.

asshole.

you’d kill to be able to take either of them all the way without gagging and sputtering around their shafts, eyes filling with tears. sometimes they even poured down your cheeks as you tried to suck them off. but no, none of that was happening for coryo. his baby blues gazed at you with lecherous intent, a bemused smile flickering at the corners of his lips—well, you could sense it in spite of sejanus’ thick cock stretching them out.

sejanus whines underneath you, and feeling disgruntled, you clench your thighs around him more, trying to edge your way to your own pleasure. his hips are bucking pathetically into coryo’s throat as he tries to continue to eat you out, mouth latched at your sensitive clit, but it’s not good enough. you ride him a little, but coryo’s distracting him, he’s just that fucking good—and he’s never even sucked cock before.

you watch as coryo cups sej’s balls, moving his tongue over them ever so slightly before taking sejanus’ cock back down his throat. sejanus gives a muffled groan, and you watch coryo’s eyes stretch in surprise as he takes his first load. he doesn’t give up until sejanus is whimpering and begging for him to stop, and he pulls his mouth away, a shit-eating grin upon his wet lips.

you’ve lost your orgasm, sejanus’ tongue had faltered and ceased its ministrations because of the bastard. it was fucking cruel, and you were going to make coryo pay for it.

‘fuck you,’ you spit, climbing off of sejanus’ face and curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees.

coryo laughs, crawling to you and pressing a kiss to your lips. you can taste sejanus’ cum on his tongue as he slips it inside your mouth, but you aren’t in the mood to be placated or belittled, so you shove him away.

‘what, jealous that i suck cock so well?’ he goads.

‘you are so going to pay for this, coriolanus snow.’

Jack Kilmer deleted his Instagram account, I'm actually so devastated for him. Val was a great man, he has my whole heart. He was my whole childhood, I hope Val rests easy in eternal peace 🖤

Contemplating about killing myself.

I FUCKING LOVE THIS 😭😭

Arums

Coriolanus Snow x florist!m!reader

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Anonymous asked: okay such a small ask but I just read your teeth fic and I love it and I want get some brain rot ideas for Tom blyth. So my idea is a florist male reader x snow who hires him to decorate all the events because he just wants him around

Hi!! This got mildly out of hand?? Sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for requesting, I love this idea. <33

warnings: Snow being scary, Snow not taking no for an answer (not sexual), Snow threatening to kill your friends and family, he basically takes over your life, not a lot of mentions of florist stuff (I tried :,>), not proofread

author's note: man, I got a little carried away. I hope this is good! I don't really know a lot about floristry, so it's unfortunately not very prevalent but I tried my best! :> mwah <33

(gn!version coming up)

word count: 3'086

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White, ornately carved columns adorn the walls, stretching high and tall towards similarly decorated curved ceilings. They tower over you, menacing and foreboding, despite their sheer beauty. All these details, and not a single ounce of love to be found in their edges and swirls.

No passion, no pure artistic devotion—just an exchange of labor for money. But it's not your job to critique art; you're here to decorate the banquet hall.

The Capitol’s elite truly are suckers for a good, disgustingly wasteful, and pompous dinner party, and luckily for them, President Snow is more than keen to deliver.

Maybe it’s to keep up connections and create new alliances, or he’s simply trying to impress the gamemakers. Not that he still needs to, of course, but you figure it can never hurt to be in everyone's favor in this sort of political climate.

Not that you know anything about being a politician. You never claimed to, either. 

However, you've heard about the poisonings, the constant backstabbing, and the gossip. Sometimes, when they’re drunk enough, and you’re unlucky enough to be standing nearby, some of the elites like to unload their entire life’s worth of baggage on you. 

Man, the amount of reputations you could ruin if you really wanted to. They’d most likely buy themselves out of whatever messes you’d manage to create, but it’s fun to think about regardless. He’s just keeping them entertained, drunk, and stupid—easy to manipulate.

You're more than happy right where you are, placing bundles of pristine white roses on the table to serve as decoration. 

President Snow adores them more than anything. You wish you could at least work with a little pop of color, but alas, you're not going to complain about going all out on these sorts of arrangements to such an exuberant extent on someone else's budget. If you're being honest, you quite enjoy it.

After all, it's not every day that you get the chance to decorate events of this caliber. But, despite the fact that your team is far from the most prestigious in the Capitol, the President has been favoring it over the others. 

It's actually quite strange.

He has only used your services for his events in the last few weeks; perhaps he simply prefers your work.

It's good money for your boss, of course, and you're happy to work on bigger projects instead of the usual, tiny bouquets.

The only drawback is the way President Snow tends to stare at you as you work. You can always feel his icy blue eyes burning holes into the back of your head. Naturally, you just assume he's making sure everything is done to his liking. 

He's known for being a mild perfectionist, so that has to be it.

Still, you can't help but feel slightly unsettled by it. There's something so cold and haunting about his gaze. And why you, specifically? You always do your job as instructed. 

Where did you put the pearls again?

You’re rummaging around in one of the work bags for the missing pearl containers when you hear your boss call your name and wave you over. There’s something strange about the way he’s looking at you.

He seems confused, almost disturbed, even. President Snow stands in front of him, watching as you scramble to stand up and free yourself of any leaves and loose thorns you cut off the roses. 

Once you’re close enough, he places his hand on your shoulder and sort of presents you to President Snow. An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, simmering under the intensity of his stare.

"He’s incredibly talented, that much I can tell you." He chuckles awkwardly. "I’d hate to let him go, but who am I to deny the President’s wishes?"

"What?" You swivel around to shoot him a questioning glance. Is he firing you? Did you mess something up? Why would Snow want to get you fired?

"Of course he is; I’m very impressed by his work." Snow’s voice has a certain demanding quality to it—smooth and deep, never failing to make your heart skip a beat in the most unpleasant way possible. Never leaving any room to question anything he says.

"President Snow has graciously offered you a position as his, well, personal decorator." Your boss nods at you, letting his hand slip off your shoulder to gesture towards Snow. 

"Don't worry, your responsibilities won't change all that much. Simply put, you would be in charge of decorating every event I intend to host." 

He smiles at you, but not in a friendly or genuine manner; instead, it's more akin to a predator flashing his teeth. It appears to be more of a warning than anything else.

"Oh." You mutter, your stomach twisting and churning at the prospect of working for this man.

"I’m honored to even be considered for such a prestigious position, President Snow, really, but there are other florists much more experienced and suited for it than me. Forgive me for asking, but why ch-"

"I prefer your work."

The feigned cordiality in his tone from before is now strained, startling you. You swallow harshly, feeling a lump form in your throat.

It's clear that declining is not an option here, as much as you'd like to.

A few moments of heavy, suffocating silence pass, threatening to choke you out along with Snow's growing impatience the longer you don't respond. You resort to a simple, obedient nod, your voice abandoning you in the face of subjugation.

You shake his hand wordlessly, pressing your lips together, when he cracks another tight, bone-chilling smile. Your boss pats you on the back in what you assume is his attempt to comfort you. He may be a little rash at times, but he takes care of you.

Well, not anymore, apparently.

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President Snow is a young man, and you'd be lying if you said he isn't absolutely stunning—almost frighteningly so. Beyond that, there aren't many positive things you can say about him. He's an okay employer, always kind enough, but he's incredibly demanding.

It begins with him insisting on you residing on his property, instead of living on your own. It unnerves you, severely. Under his watchful eye at all times, and he loves to watch you.

He claims it's easier on the both of you, never knowing when he'll need your services. There's always something to do for you, his favorite decorator. Even if there aren't nearly as many big events for you to organize as he so grandly declared.

Instead, you're making sure the various arrangements around the large property don't run out of water, or redecorating the tables for normal every-day meals. Your responsibilities go far beyond those of a regular florist, and you're struggling to understand why he wanted you here in the first place, if not to put you in charge of floral tasks. Isn't that why he hired you?

Yes, you're technically working with flowers, but your job is more akin to a housekeeper's. And you're not trained for that sort of thing. He's never complained, luckily, at least not yet.

Always seemingly satisfied with your work, much to your relief.

But he lacks a certain kind of humanity. You always feel as if you're just one simple mistake away from being mauled by his very hands.

He hasn't really given you a specific reason to worry, but living like this feels like sharing a den with a starving lion nonetheless. After all, you're always here to see his cruelty up close.

The most horrific part is how nonchalant he is about it. So quick and casual in denying others their humanity and rights.

You just sort of miss your friends and family. Surely, he'll have to let you go eventually, or at the very least give you some time off. It's been weeks.

"Where's my flower boy?"

You hear him call out from the adjoining study, your hair standing up at the mere sound of it. Curse that god-awful nickname he's given you.

You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back, before making your way from the living room towards the study's doorway. Snow is seated at his desk, countless papers strewn across its surface. You're greeted by an unusual sight. His hair is seemingly unkempt, and his shirt is partially undone with its sleeves rolled up. 

He sighs wearily, gazing up at you with tired eyes.

"Have you finished prepping the dining room? Roses in place?"

You nod. "Yes sir."

He licks his lips, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his messy, blond hair. Not sure what to do with yourself, you remain glued to the door frame as you take the chance to peer around his office. It's nice and expensive, like everything else in his estate. Full of luxurious materials and woods.

"Can you do me a favor?" He interrupts your little inspection.

"Of course." You mumble in bewilderment, furrowing your eyebrows. Snow isn't the type to ask for a favor; instead, he demands things with no please or thank you.

"Come here."

You must look as perplexed as you feel right now, judging from the way he sighs at your expression. He swivels to the side and pats his lap.

"Come here." He repeats, with nothing in his tone to indicate what his intentions are.

"Are you asking me to sit on your lap?" You'd almost be offended by his audacity, if you weren't more scared of the consequences of not following his orders. He's not above killing people for disobedience, and you're unpleasantly well aware of that. Even if just to set an example.

"No, just come here." His demeanor grows increasingly exasperated, and he rolls his eyes at your question.

Hesitantly, you move around the desk to stand in front of him, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest from the anxiety. You make sure to keep a good arm's length of distance between the two of you, already uncomfortable by the proximity.

He huffs in annoyance, reaching forward to tug on your shirt and pull you closer in one swift motion. The nerve? You tense up at the incredibly bold move, your brain struggling to keep up with what's going on while also trying to rationalize how flustered you're feeling.

It's not anger making your cheeks burn like that, that's for sure.

"Would you be so kind and button my shirt up for me?" In true Snow fashion, he makes it sound as if you have a choice in this when, in fact, you don't.  He's not asking for a favor; he's ordering you to do it.

You open your mouth to protest, only to be met with an impatient head tilt, causing you to close it just as quickly. Alright then, you think.

With trembling hands, you take care of the first button. At least he's gracious enough to not stare at you, rolling down and adjusting his sleeves instead. Then, careful not to interrupt your work, he reaches over the desk and gingerly picks up a single, white rose from a vase filled to the brim with them.

You reflexively smooth your hand down his chest when you're done, promptly letting it fall to your side when you realize what you're doing. Humiliation oozes from your skin.

But he doesn't react, slipping into his wine-red waistcoat to slide it over his shoulders and wordlessly handing you the rose. You blink at it, fiddling with it between your fingers.

"Snap it."

"Excuse me?" 

He nods at the flower, making quick work of the waistcoat's buttons himself. "In half. Snap it."

This entire interaction is so bizarre. It's impossible to not feel completely out of place here; every move you make is like nails on a chalkboard.

You do as he says, splitting the rose's stem in half as cleanly as you can. It takes more pressure than anticipated, forcing you to resort to near violence. Usually, you use a blade to gently cut it. It feels strangely cruel to just rip it in half like this.

He delicately hooks two fingers under your chin, coaxing your head upwards to focus on his face instead of the broken stem.

"Here." He points at the small, metallic clip adorning the right side of his chest. "Be a darling and pin it for me."

You just sigh, understanding that there's no point in arguing at all. It could be worse, you guess. Just let him have this moment and then move on—maybe quit.

So you attach the rose to the clip, adjusting it ever so slightly, before stepping back and giving Snow a timid once-over.

"Well? How do I look?" He raises his brows, amused by your sudden complacency. Seemingly awaiting your judgment as he smooths back his silvery tresses into a more orderly position.

"Great. As always." You nod slowly.

"Great?" He sneers, clearly displeased by your lackluster response.

"Well-..." Sputtering, you scramble to find the right words to make up for your misstep. "And Handsome. You look very handsome and classy, sir."

It's not a lie, either, because he does look good. The dark, velvety fabric of the waistcoat hugs his waist snugly, accentuating his already broad shoulders even further. He looks regal, quite honestly.

His lips quickly contort into a sharp, delighted smile that sends a small chill down your spine. You try your best to hide your unease, returning the favor in a much more tight-lipped, tense manner. No amount of beauty can save this man from his eerie and bone-chilling aura.

Taking a deep, drawn-out breath, he finally gets up from his chair to brush down the creased fabric of his trousers and adjust his cuffs.

"Alright." He huffs, finally moving to get up from his chair and brushing out the creases in his trousers.  He stops mid-action, intensely deliberating your outfit, with pursed lips.

"Do you have anything more presentable in your wardrobe?" He vaguely gestures at your attire.

"Uhm. No, I don't think I do?" You look down, glancing at your simple, comfortable shirt and pants combo. It's not fancy by any means, and you're not trying to impress anyone since you're here to work. So, what's the issue?

He sighs. "Go find my tailor, please. Ask her to find something dinner-appropriate for you."

"I'm sorry?" You chuckle in disbelief. Does he view you as some sort of doll he can dress up and do whatever he pleases with?

"You heard me. You'll be joining me for dinner tonight. We're expecting guests, and I'd like you to look decent." There's a certain commanding quality to the way he says it, as if this is just another part of your job. 

"I don't think I'll be-..."

"Listen." He cuts you off, something sinister in his eyes as he prowls towards you, coming to stand directly in front of you. Far too close for comfort.

"I'm going to need you to understand, that you belong to me now. Whether you realize it or not, I own you. Okay? You don't get to decide what you do or don't do. I don't pay you to disrespect me."

Pure condescension drips from his lips as he towers over you, barely leaving room for you to breathe.

"Think of it as a promotion. From florist to... President's arm piece. Okay?" He coos softly, leaning in so closely that you can feel the heat radiate from his body.

Terror washes over you like a wave of ice-cold water, your senses overcome by the suffocating smell of his cologne. It's muted—such a tastefully small amount, and yet it still manages to strangle you. You feel like a caged animal, your chest heaving rapidly in anger and fear.

He really thinks he owns you, as if you're some sort of property.

"Go fuck yourself." You seethe at him. "You don't fucking own me."

You barely move towards the door, gasping when he immediately captures your arm in a painful, harsh grasp to pull you back. His jaw is clenched, irritation edged into the corners of his mouth as it twists into a scowl.

Before you can even open your mouth to yell at him, he yanks on your collar, causing you to stumble further into him as he talks in a threatening, low voice.

"Yes, I do." He growls. "You're gonna do what I tell you, or I'll pay your family and friends a little visit, understood? I know everything about you, sweetheart. Don't be stupid."

His words pierce your gut like shards of glass, lodging themselves in your heart and throat. Tears prick at your eyes, hot and furious as they blur your vision. His face melts into a pale smudge of dread and doom as they continue to spill over onto your cheeks. 

Terror has rendered your mind completely blank, its vicious roots burrowing deep into your bones to sap all courage from you. Would he kill them? Or would he just hurt them and keep them alive to use them as leverage against you? You shudder at the mental image of your loved ones locked up in some dark cell, beaten and bloody, just because you refused to join the president for dinner.

You gasp when Snow tenderly wipes your tears with his thumb, his expression now blank.

"Just be good for me and nothing will happen to them. I promise."

You feel drained and completely powerless. What are you supposed to do? Sniffling and trembling under his menacing posture, you know damn well he has all the power to kill every last one of them with zero consequences.

He's the president, after all.

"Okay." You whisper weakly. "Please leave them alone."

"Of course, darling." He coos, his demeanor suddenly sweet and affectionate. "As long as you behave, nothing will happen to them. Okay?"

You just nod, not even looking at him as you do so. Snow squeezes your hand in what you guess is supposed to be a comforting gesture. It leaves you feeling disgusted and violated. 

"Go freshen up now. Dinner will be served soon."

And you do. You do it because that's your job. 

You do as he says. His precious little flower boy, always at his beck and call, no matter what.

Oh, how you miss putting together boring little bouquets. 

The only flowers in your life now are those dreadful white roses. Colorless, apart from the dark, red blood splattered on their snowy petals for every kiss and touch he steals from you.

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Please consider reblogging this if you enjoyed it! Likes are very much appreciated but sadly don't do much for writers and artists on Tumblr. By reblogging, you're telling us you'd like to see more and help our work reach more people that might be interested! Thank you so much :> ♡

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28.12.2023

@nonscathingbullets myflixer :)

I finally finished this movie and wow .. what a fantastic movie.

I don’t know what took me so long to finished it but I’m so glad I did Val’s acting was incredible. And his singing was so good I forgot twice that it wasn’t Jim singing.

someone should write a Iceman x maverick beauty and the beast retelling😫🙏🙏

Alright,

Imagine Euronymous's girlfriend always begging him to on bottom but he always refuses so when he laying down in bed they go in there and handcuff in to the bed frame and then we all know what happens from there 🤭

omg anon you LITERALLYYYY hacked my account this is sitting in my drafts!!!

sorry this took so long anon, school literally beats my ass. I love this idea tho!!

fem reader x euronymous, smut! obvi, p in v, unprotected, use of restraints and a blindfold, smacking, cigarette play, subby euro and dommish reader, slight angst, he’s just so mean to you in the beginning :/. sorta cnc, heed the warning if you’re uncomfortable with such! enjoy! comment to be in the tag list or for moots ok mwah mwah!! scroll all the way down for taglist form :3

tl: @cc-luvr @bambi-horror @sugarinte

“øysteinnn,” you whine, following him into your shared room. “no.” he shakes his head, almost closing the door on you. “but—just once! it won’t be bad!”

“I don’t care, because I won’t be fucking doing it.” he laid back against his bed, flipping on the tv. you’d been begging your boyfriend for weeks to let you be in charge, try something new with the cuffs he’d usually use on you. but no, he just had to be in charge all the time! wont even give it a chance!

“you don’t even know if you don’t like it!” you sit next to him, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t need to, because I don’t want to try.” he didn’t even look at you, and you groan. “you’re so mean! why do you always get to be in charge? what if I wanna make you scream my name?” you cross your arms, watching him light a cig.

“you’re fucking crazy, and you’re about to piss me off. don’t make me waste a cigarette on you.” he pointed at you, and you knew he was referring to how he’d press his cigs into your knees.

you huff, “fine, whatever. i bet varg would let m—” you couldn’t even get the joke out before he grabs your throat with his cigarette hand, slapping you across the face, making you gasp and yelp, putting a hand on him chest to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

“say it. say it I fuckin’ dare you.” he says lowly, eyes glued on you as he watches tears well in your eyes. he slaps you again but harder, making you cry louder. “you were just so fuckin’ bold, where’d it go? say it, go the fuck ahead.” he grits, squeezing your throat, making you whimper.

“mm. what I fuckin’ thought. don’t ever pull some shit like that again.” he takes a long drag of his cigarette before immediately smashing it into your thigh while it’s still red, the burn making you cry and scream and kick at him while he held your throat and held it down, watching your face with no remorse.

“maybe this’ll teach you how to behave.” he flicks it off onto the floor before slapping you again, blowing the smoke in your face as you cry. “you’re-so mean,” you cry, rubbing your leg and whipping your face off with your sleeve.

he sighs, he didn’t like listening to you cry, not out of frustration at least. “you gotta stop pissing me off sugar,” he coos with a hint of anger still in him as he cups your cheeks, using his own sleeve to wipe your face now as you look to the side.

“i’ll..think about it. i’ll think. just stop pissing me off, yknow I don’t like hurting you.” he kisses your cheek slowly before kissing you, rubbing your leg lightly and holding your face with his other hand.

you nod as he lets go of you, taking off his glasses and laying on his back and taking off his shirt, pulling the cover over his body. “go get yourself an ice pack, i’ll sleep on it, but that doesn’t mean a yes. ok? i love you, i love you,” he repeated, just because he wanted you to know he meant it and he loved hearing you say it back. no matter how soft he spoke you knew he’d still say no, but you just nodded.

“i love you too,” you say and he kissed you one more time before laying back with his arm over his eyes, then his lips parted. you left the room with a huff, crossing your arms as you went downstairs and fixed yourself an ice pack.

you didn’t know why he didn’t want to try it, maybe it was a masculinity thing, or his love for being in control of you during sex. but you were gonna get your way, you always did with him. whether he liked it or not.

so after your leg stopped hurting you went into your guys box of toys and trinkets, grabbing the cuffs and blindfold you knew oh so well. you snuck back into the room, seeing him sprawled out in the bed, thankfully on his back, sound asleep. and it was a good thing he was a heavy sleeper.

you grab his arms softly and place the cuff on his wrist, laying his arm back down and locking it around your bed frame, going around doing the same, and he was still sound asleep. you step back to look at him, giggling with a hand over your mouth.

an hour goes by and you’re getting ready for bed, having just got out of the shower. you had gotten into some lingerie you’d recently bought, it was lacy and red, and the lace making embroidered roses around the nipples but best believe they poked out underneath, the sheer fabric barley covering them.

and your underwear was bout the same but left your pussy to the imagination of whoever we gazed upon, the straps of it being thin red lace that barely covered your ass and only your your vagina, and ooh you knew he would hate not being able to watch you gush onto him.

euronymous stirred away, going to rub his eye but found he couldn’t, his hands in the air. he furrowed his brows as he tried to move the both down, jerking at the restrictions. “what the fuck?” he whispered to himself, looking up at what was holding him.

he tried to sit up but couldn’t even do that, more rage pulsing through his tired body. he huffed and shouted your name, it echoing through the apartment and made you jump, smiling. he’s up!

you giggle as you slip on a white nightgown, fixing your hair in the mirror and putting some vaseline on your lips, popping your head into the room so he wouldn’t see your get up. “yes?” you say innocently, and he stares at you, head down and eyes low with anger, a shadow cast over his eyelids. (like the gif :3)

“cmere.” he nods his head as he says calmly, but you could hear his anger. “is something wrong?” you smile, tilting your head. “come here,” he repeated louder as you lean against the door frame, showcasing your outfit, head propped against it as your hands ran down it.

“you like my gown?” he snarls your name again, “get me the fuck out of this.” you roll your eyes. “I get all pretty for you and you don’t even care!” “get me the fuck out of here!” you watch him jerk his hands against the cuffs, and it made you giggle a little as you sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing his leg.

“oh you think this is funny? it’s fucking funny?? wait till I get out.” he nods, his nails digging into his palms as his biceps flex. “yknow you look so hot right now,” you crawl onto his right leg, rubbing his biceps. “i’m gonna fuck you up when I get out of here. just you fuckin’ wait, you can’t keep me in here forever.”

“how bout you just shut the fuck up. ok?” you’re seated fully on his lap as you rub down his chest sensually. “you’re being so ungrateful, and to think I wore something so pretty for you tonight.” you cup his cheeks to him look at you, his eyes still glaring.

“you’re in for it. you’re in for it I swear to fucking god.” he mumbles,trying to get out of your grip. “you wouldn’t have to wake up like this if you just cooperated baby,” you faux frown.

he struggles around you as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, “you’ll never be as good as me, yknow that? nobody can get you worked—” you slap him across the face and he chokes a gasp, mouth open in shock.

“you fucking-” “you just talk so fucking much, just let me take care of you,” he sucks in a breath, feeling your hand pull the covers off as you rub his waking wood, pushing his lips together and stopping himself from bucking up to your touch.

“øystein you know i’ll untie you if you want me to. but you really don’t want me to help you?” you coo in his ear and he jumps slightly as you continue stroking him through his boxers, feeling him grow in your hand and seeing him strain against his boxers.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good for a little, baby?” you kiss his neck lightly as you run your thumb over him clothed slit, hearing him hiss and pull at his restraints more. “[y/n], don’t touch-.” he grits, but lets out a whimper when your lips run over his sweet spot, his breath heaving.

you raise your brows in shock at the noise, continuing to prod at his sweet spot, running your tongue flat against it and sucking on it greedily, hearing him strain and whine some more as you stroke him quicker, his pale chest arching and heaving, trying not to let out any sounds of pleasure, he didn’t want you to have that satisfaction, but you know how to get it out of him.

you bite at the spot and hear him let out a strained groan, teeth pressed together as he moves his head out the way for you, there it was. you litter tiny bites on his skin, hearing him let out muffled groans and whimpers, making you frown.

you lift up and move your hands away, tracing a finger on his abs. “you were just so loud baby, what happened?” you coo, running your nails up his thigh teasingly. “hm?” you watch his pink face as his lip quivers, searching for your voice and how close you were.

“euronymous, you better speak the fuck up before I leave you here.” you warn, hand now up his boxers, and he gasps. “baby, cmon.” he mumbles. “what was that?” you sit close to him, slipping your gown off. “speak up for me.” you were drinking in this feeling, and he knew that, he hated it, and he hated how the situation made him feel. but he hadn’t been this hard since you let him fuck you over a balcony on a third floor apartment.

“baby come on,” he says louder, his voice whiney and desperate. “what’d you want me to do baby? you gotta tell me.” you kiss his lips as you pull him out his boxers, his hard, red tip oozing with precum, making you smile against him.

“mmf-do it, please baby,” he says in the kiss, and you slap him. “do what, euronymous. you gotta tell me what you want or I won’t do anything.” he gasps and exhales shakily, a whimper leaving his open mouth, breathing into your mouth.

you watch his cock twitch as his legs squirm and his fists struggle against the cuffs, making you smile. “you’re a dirty boy, yknow that? you like when I hit you?” you stroke his cock and he lets out a groan, and when he doesn’t answer you strike him again, harder. he yelps and grips his fists again, nodding.

“yes, y-yes I do baby I do,” he breaths, chest heaving and red. “touch it. touch it baby cmon,” he turns his head as he whines, searching for your voice. you smile, “is that how good boys ask? where’s that magic word you love so much, huh?” you taunt.

he pushes his lips together, whining. “no.” he mumbles, and you raise your brows. “no?” you repeat and move his hand away from his cock. “guess you don’t want it.”

he gasps, “no! n-no no I want it, I want it please baby,” he wiggled his hood in search for your touch again, and you could feel yourself get wet at his pathetic squirming as you bite your lip.

“say it again, say that magic word again babyboy.” you rub his thigh. “please baby, please touch me,” he whines. you smile, “only because you were so polite. but when I touch you you gotta say thank you, understand?”

“yes, y-yes I will,” he nods frantically. “yes what?” “y…yes ma’am.” he whispered, and you smile before spitting in your hand, grabbing his aching cock and stroking him quickly, hearing him moan out, throwing his head back.

“oh thank you, thank you baby,” he stammers, bucking up to your hand as his wrist move against the cuffs. “can you say thank you momma?” your squeeze around his tip as you stroke him quickly, pre cum gliding down onto your hand.

he whines, lips forming a pout. “don’t do this to me baby..” “say it. or i’ll stop.” you squeeze him again, and he lets out a groan, mouth agape and lips glossy with spit, oh he looked so cute. such a sweee contrast to how he usually preformed.

“o-ok! ok th-thank you momma, thank you momma,” he whines, biting his lip as he fucks your fist. “good boy, I knew you could be my good boy,” you scoot between his legs on your knees, leaning down to his tip, still watching his face as he groans out, head thrown back and his pretty pale chest heaving as his legs squirm.

“stop moving baby.” you warn, and he feels your breath on his tip, making him turn his head down, even though he still couldn’t see. “you’re—I wanna see, lemme watch you, please.”

you sigh a smile, oh his moans and whines and whimpers just went straight to your core, you were throbbing, aching. he whimpered feeling your hot breath on his tip, his dick jumping.

“you wanna watch? do you think you deserve to watch, hm? you’ve been so mean to momma.” you rub your tongue along the slit of his tip and he moans out. still pulling at his restrains.

“i’m sorry momma I-I didn’t mean it, I swEar jus’ lemme watch, love your lips, please,” he begs, voice cracking cutely. “my baby loves my lips? loved watching my lips wrap around his pretty cock?” you slip the blind fold off his head and his eyes shoot everywhere, taking in what you wore.

“oh fuck, fuck look at you,” he pants, his eyes glued to your boobs as you rub his shoulders before slapping him across the face, earning a squeak and whimper, his eyes shutting. “watch your mouth, you curse again and i’m gonna hit you harder.”

he nods, eye fucking your pussy that was closed off to him. he pulled at his restrictions, “lemme touch you, wanna touch you. please momma please..” he looks up at you with those big blue eyes you love so much. you shook your head, “you don’t get to touch me tonight, at all. you should’ve cooperated early.”

you crawl back down between his legs. he whines, “momma no, please I just wanna touch you, wanna make you feel good,” he whines, and you lay your head against his thigh, his cock his hand looking up at him. “you’re so cute, but no. no touching, you’ll make me feel good later baby, I promise you that.” you kiss his tip before circling your tongue around it, stroking the rest of his length as you took his tip on your mouth now, hearing him let out a loud groan and curse.

“ahh fuck momma,” he moans, and you slap his thighs making him jump. “do you want me to stop? what’d I just tell you,” you pull off, and he shakes his head frantically. “m-m’sorry, I promise i’m sorry, don’t stop momma.”

you hum as you go back down on him, sucking around his tip and hallowing your cheeks out, hearing him groan whinily again, watching himself disappear into your mouth with blown out eyes, brows furrowed and mouth agape, hair cutely stuck to his forehead.

you held his hips down to stop his squirming as you took him whole, your ass arched in the air, knowing how much he loved it, and knowing how bad he wanted to shove you down onto him.

“faster momma, f-faster please, can’t take it,” he groans, still trying to move his hips. and you listen, bobbing your head on him quicker as your tongue latches onto the underside of his cock, making him whimper out, eyes squeezed shut as his head lolls around and rests on his shoulder. “momma, momma please lemme touch you, m’gonna—” he cuts himself off with a moan, feeling his abs tighten.

“you’re gonna cum baby? is my pretty boy gonna cum?” you pull off and stroke him quickly, using his own slick as lube as your rest his tip on your tongue. he nods, teeth smashes together as are his eyes, bucking into your hand again.

“gonna cum momma, gonna f-f-” he stops himself from cursing by biting his lip before he groans and cums on himself, spurting on his abs and tailbone. “look at alll that,” you purr, watching as he just kept going, his eyes low as he watches, trying to catch his breath. he watches you get in and wipe your hand on his boxers, his eyes widening.

“when you’d get that?” he breaths, looking you up and down. “last week, you like it,” you sit next to him as he nods eagerly. “lemme touch you. undo me,” he looks up at you.

“boy you’re not getting out till I say so,” you clip on top of him. “stop tryin’ it.” “momma, look at you. I need to, please. lemme take care of you,” he whines, licking his lips as his head hangs on his shoulder, watching your boobs jiggle as you stand his dick up to your stomach.

“you’ll take care of me alright,” you grab his cigarettes, lighting one for yourself and taking a hit before putting it in his mouth, letting him take one too. “you remember what you did to me earlier?” you tap his cheek with the cig in your hand. “what’d I do?”

you take another drag before jamming it into his chest under his pec, and he cries out, pulling at his restraints and squirming under you. “stop moving.” you keep it on his skin and he groans between his teeth.

“fuck momma!” he cried out, tears swelling in his eyes. you flick the cig to the floor and slap him again, making him cry louder. you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. “keep disobeying me, you hear? i’ll leave you like this, with a hard dick stuck in hand cuffs. what would your little buddies think, hm?” you say, and his eyes widen, “n-no..”

“their big, bad, metal lord all tied up, begging to cum and calling his little girlfriend momma? you think they’d still fear you?” you coo, and you felt his dick jump against you as he whimpers looking away from you. his precum oozed onto your stomach, and you smack your lips.

“oh you like that huh,” you tap his sensitive tip, feeling him move against your grip as you do so. “dirty fuckin’ boy, want your friends to know about our little secret, huh?” you ask and he shakes his head. “no momma, please no momma,” he whines, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“mm, only because you’re being so good for me. you still wanna make me feel good?” “yes! yes yes yes, wanna make you feel so good,” he nods frantically as you push his head on the pillow.

“keep-keep this on though, keep it on momma. look so so good,” he watches you move your underwear to the side. “do you think you deserve it, huh? you’ve been actin’ out a lot tonight,” you rub his tip against your soaking entrance.

“uh huh, need it, need that wet pussy,” he groans, squeezing his fists. “you want my pussy babyboy?” you sink onto him, letting out a moan as he tips his head back and groans, making you clench around him. god he looked so so good like this.

“oh momma, oh momma,” he moans, his eyes shut and his lips parted. “don’t move, ok? lemme take care of it,” you rock your hips against him, holding his chest down and rubbing your thumb over his burn mark. he hisses at the sensation but bucks his hips up into you, starting to fuck up into you.

you choke back a moan before slapping him, “you don’t fucking listen, I just told you not to move.” with a huff you slide off of him, and he immediately tries to get up but can’t, “no! no no i’m sorry, i’m sorry I-i’ll be good I promise, fuck me momma please fuck me,” he begs as you go to the box in your closet.

“no. you don’t deserve it, bad boys like you don’t deserve my pussy,” you sit back in between his legs, yours draping over his as you tease your whole with the dildo. he whines, “no momma, please I-i’ll be good, just fuck me..i’ll be better,” he whimpers, whining more when you slid it in with a loud moan.

“momma..” “no. I gave..you a lot of chances tonight, and you’re blowin’ it baby.” you sigh as you fuck yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up on the bed. you know he hates you getting off on your own, he always says he’d rather you just wait for him so he can do it, because he knows your body best.

he watched the clear dildo disappear into you with pouty lips as you moan out, head tipped back and eyes shut, your body jittery as you move faster. and god, you hated how he was right all the time, even under your control. he did know your body best.

“momma..momma please, i’ll do better. jus’ lemme feel you please,” he begs, his cock jumping at the sight of you arching your back, your boobs jiggling against your arm as you push deeper into yourself, a high moan emitting from you. “you promise baby?”

“yes, I-I pinky promise just please, please give it to me,” he whines. you roll your eyes before slipping it out, throwing it on the bed and crawling over to him. “you better listen to me,” you say as you sink back onto him, and he let out a drawn out groan, his eyes shutting and his head tipping back.

“that’s it, thank you momma thank you,” he whines, eyes low as he looks up at you, your hands planted on his pecks. “oh there’s my good boy, I knew you had it,” you coo, rubbing his cheek. he nods, “your good boy, swear momma i’m your good boy,” he breaths out as you lean to kiss him, hopping on his dick eagerly.

he moans high in the kiss, still pulling at his restraints but holding still like you asked. “oh fuck baby,” you moan shakily, hitting that deep sweet spot in you that had your body tingling and your legs shaking, feeling your stomach twist up.

your breathing gets heavier and you pull away, unable to continue kissing him so you two just breathed into each others mouth, eyes glued together, both drowned out in lust and ditziness. your moans got louder and you felt your body get heavier, and you knew what feeling was coming to you.

for some reason, your orgasm came harder when you were on top. “you’re gonna cum momma, yeah? gonna cum on me?” he sighs, watching you shut your eyes as you slow down, grinding onto him to to prod that sweet spot, and you moan out louder. “yes baby, I-m’gonna cum,” you say shakily.

he watches you lift up and bounce on that sweet spot, lips glossy. “so pretty, oh you’re so pretty momma, cum, cum on m—” he chokes as you wrap your hands around his throat, holding him down to the bed.

“shut up baby, let me take c-care of it, oh fuck, ooh fuck baby,” you whine, squeezing his neck as you cum onto him with loud drawn out moans, gasping as you ride out your high, eyebrows scrunched and mouth open, shuddered babbles flying off your tongue.

“gonna-cum momma,” he chokes, gasping for air as you press down more, riding his through his orgasm. he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, moans spewing out of him before he cums deep inside you, hard load after load.

“mmm yes baby, that’s a good boy, yeah? you’re my good boy?” you continue riding him to overstimulation, and he shudders, groaning and arching his back.

“momma feels too good, feels too good wait, n-no,” he whimpers, gritting his teeth as he continues coming into you. “I know, it’s so good right? keep goin for me baby you got it,” you kiss his cheek as he moans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “n-no, it’s so good momma no more,” he begs, and you finally pull off, laying next to him on your side, cum leaking out of you as you try n catch your breath with your boyfriend.

“what’d you think baby,” you lift up to look at him, rubbing his face as he catches his breath, body relaxing against the cuffs, his eyes closed and chest heaving. “so good, real good momma.” “mmhmmm.” you nod, kissing him gently, hearing him still whimper when your lips connect. “lemme clean you up n i’ll let you go, ok?” you leave the room to wet a towel, coming back and seeing him laid back and eyes closed.

“baby?” you say softly before realizing he’s asleep, making you smile. “poor baby, all fucked out.” you clean him up gently before uncuffing him, allowing him to roll on his side. you turn off your lamp as you slip under his grasp, holding the hand that drapes over you.

you don’t think you’d do it again, or at least not often. that was a lot of fuckin’ work.

anddddd fin!! I loved this soooo much thank u sm anon :33 subby euro is something I didn’t know I needed in my life! I hope u enjoyed, comment for moots and taglist request form can be found here. bye love u mwah mwah!!