Soft Dom Staring At Their Sub Just Admiring Them. When The Sub Notices The Eyes On Them And Asks, "What?"

soft dom staring at their sub just admiring them. When the sub notices the eyes on them and asks, "What?" the soft dom just smiles at their subs reaction "Can't I just look at you and think about how last night you were practically crying on my cock?" they reply back, innocently.

I find it cute that MC can't really reach Bela's face and kiss her by surprise unless she kicks her shins.

The other more civilized option is to pull her sleeve.

They will get along eventually... maybe.

just wanna watch a girl's eyes roll back as i repeatedly slam my strap into her wet pussy, her legs wrapped around my waist making my thrusts deeper, one hand pressing down on her lower stomach while I use the other to circle her clit with my thumb until she squirts all over my cock

Girl grinding her pussy on my thigh with her panties still on just to show me how wet they can get as I make her cum over and over again till she’s shaking and her panties are practically stuck to her pussy so I laugh at her for being so easy and then slip my strap into her and fuck her even dumber before she’s just a limp cocksleeve in my lap when?

The way she fiddles with the ring Lenore gave her oh girl you’re GAY GAY LESBIAN AS HELL side note I do like how she messes with the other ring as she’s scheming

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟎 ✷ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐄

pjo fanfiction 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ i just wanna know who broke your nose, figure out where they live so i can kick their teeth in, if it isn’t love then what the fuck is it? ✷ part one?

A ragged lilac cloth sucked in the warm water into its particles, twisted excess over a half empty bowl before being placed delicately by the tanned girl’s injured bicep, carefulness met with a flinch “Clarisse, if I don’t clean the cuts it gets infected” you reason softly, reaching a hand towards her head, tangling fingertips amidst dark curls and pulling them at a pattern for caress. She doesn’t want to relax, but it is a pull stronger than her, to feel her own shoulders fall and lighten at your presence. Clarisse wants to blame your mother, Aphrodite, for it.

To be the daughter of War and find peace within the hold of a Love offspring seemed in itself a heresy she was committing against the one true figure she aspired to gain approval from, and it twisted at her insides like poison.

“Who beat you up this bad?” You questioned innocently, holding her fevered skin with the care of one who held a secret. It was your ritual. To stitch up your best friend after quests and sparring matches. Intimacy. You lift your head in a swift movement as to motion her an echo and Clarisse understands, removing the bright orange t-shirt blood stained by the ribcage to reveal her bare skin and a bra. She misses how your breath hitches.

“Your little girlfriend was playing dirty”

“Thalia?” Your eyebrows furrow, and it is your turn to miss how she scoffs at the way you immediately name the Zeus daughter despite the nickname, or yet, hence it. Clarisse was glad to had struck her with her spear well enough to bruise a face you’d hopefully no longer recognize as pretty even if for a few weeks. Because she had remembered all too well a year prior your puckered lips and nervous fidgeting, the taste of your lipgloss and fluttered eyelashes against her cheeks. You had asked her to practice kissing. Your stupidest thought, in hindsight. And when Clarisse felt ready to confess, she remembered the words out of your mouth: Do you think Thalia will like it?

“I don’t know what you see in her”

You giggle lightly, not noticing her seriousness “Clar-”

“What does she have that I don’t?”