#... so is the guy wearing it i guess :P | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetshuga · 1 month ago

Text

MS ✰ String you out ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Warnings⚠︎ Smut!, Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, threesome!, size kink, lowkey breeding kink, pet names, p in v, dp, unprotected sex (do not), oral (m! receiving), squirting, vibe, slight intoxication (but full consent), etc.

Word count. 3k

Note. English is not my first language! Not proofread!

Psa. Matt refers to reader as "pretty" and Chris refers to reader as "ma", just so you don't get confused with the dialogues.

Sum. Everything goes south when you show up at the campus Halloween party in a tiny black witch costume; becoming their prey for the night.

You weren’t prepared when your best friend came knocking at your door with a big duffle bag, trying to convince you to come to the annual Halloween party, but you had already decided to stay in your dorm room and continue doing your assignments.

"C’mon, don’t be like that, I even bought us matching costumes," she stepped inside, letting you close the door behind her. "I can help you do your make-up, please?" Your friend begged, plopping down on your bed. You sighed and rubbed your temple, "I told you already, I’m not going, that Halloween party will probably be just like a frat one and you know how I am about frat parties."

Your friend crossed her arms with raised eyebrows, "no, it won’t be like a frat party, but I guess there’ll be those fraternity guys there since you know... Campus party, everyone’s gonna be there–" you cut her off, "except for me," causing her to collapse back onto your bed.

"Pretty please?" She pleaded again, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically, making you laugh. "No, like I said–" she cut you off with a groan, "c’mooon, Halloween happens only once a year..." her voice trailed off as a grin made its way onto her lips, "if you go this once, I won’t bug you again, like I promise I won’t ask you to come to frat parties with me."

You couldn’t help but be tempted with the deal, clearing your throat as you looked at her, "you serious?" She nodded vigorously, "yeah, I am, I am dead serious, so? will you?" You sighed and nodded, eliciting a happy "yay" from her.

She immediately spilled the contents from her huge duffel bag, tons of make-up products and two matching witch costumes. You picked one up, inspecting it. The costume was incredibly short and could almost pass off as a long shirt.

"Are you serious? This is what you picked?" She gave you a deadpanned look, "it’s Halloween! You know what they say, the only time of the year to be as slutty as you want." She nudged your arm, grinning, "plus I bet guys would go nuts when they see you in this."

𓆩♡𓆪

Your friend helped you with your make-up, and as you looked in the mirror, you felt like you were someone else, in a good way. The costume was short, but it made you feel a bit more confident than usual. The black heel boots you had lying around – that you’ve been wanting to wear for so long – seemed to match the vibe of the dress.

The long sleeves and overall style of the costume had already started to grow on you. "Not too bad," you said as you curled your hair, "yeah? told you so," your friend grinned triumphantly, making you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

The moment you arrived at the party, your ears immediately rang at the loud music, "fuck, why is it so loud here?" you shouted to your friend, trying to get your words across the short distance, but the music drowned out your voice.

"It’s always this loud, you’re just not used to it, c’mon, let’s get drinks!" She dragged you towards the table of drinks, expertly weaving through the crowd. Alcohols that you didn’t even know the names of were stacked in an oddly neat way along with soft drinks, water and way too many solo cups.

A girl standing by the table, dressed as the grinch, offered to make you and your friend drinks, halloween specials. As you were sipping on your drink, you noticed a pair of guys, almost identical looking.

"Holy fuck, you know who they are?" you nudged your friend, jerking your head at the direction of the guys dressed as vampires. She followed your gaze and looked at them, "yeah?" she chuckled, "you don’t?" Shaking your head as you kept your gaze on the guys, unable to take it off of them.

"Of course you don’t, you’re always buried in schoolwork," she clicked her tongue, "they’re quite famous around campus you know?" You let out a huff, taking another big gulp of your drink, groaning at the burn of the mixed alcohols. "So? Who are they?"

"The one with the cap is Chris and the one that doesn’t have a cap is Matt, obviously, they’re identical triplets, but I don’t think Nick’s here today." You let out an "oh" sound of understanding before you took another sip of your drink.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl," your friend shrugged, telling you all she knew about them, "yeah... couldn’t care less, c’mon let’s just dance or something," you said pulling your friend away from the table of drinks and onto the dance floor. You couldn’t help but feel interested despite your words.

After one too many drinks and a few stolen glances later, you found yourself in a bathroom, two pairs of hands roaming over your body while you shared a kiss with one of the guys—the one with the cap.

The other one kissed your neck, trailing it down to your collarbone and leaving love bites there before going back to your neck. The one with the cap broke the kiss, "you know our names ma?" He breathed out, "uh... you’re Chris, and he’s Matt, right?" you asked hesitantly, the slight intoxication making your mind a jumbled up mess.

"Mhm—bingo, pretty," Matt whispered, his lips grazing just under your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as they continued to kiss and caress your body, your body reacting to every word and touch from them, making their faces light up with smirks.

Their fake fangs nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp softly each time. "Say, let’s go to a more comfortable place?" Chris suggested, "Yeah, can’t really do much in a bathroom," Matt chuckled as he added.

They led you out of the bathroom and weaved through the crowd of people dancing. You tried to find your friend to tell her you were going but you couldn't find her in the crowd. Suddenly, you got a message and a photo from her apologizing saying that she was gonna head home with her boyfriend since it was getting late. How convenient.

You sighed and let the guys lead you out of the party, your costume rode up ever so slightly as you tried to balance on the heel boots in your slightly tipsy state. You were very much aware of your surroundings and the two fellas, dressed as vampires, leading you towards their car.

"Where are we going?" You asked, a bit puzzled but willing. Matt and Chris both chuckled in unison at your confused state, "oh yeah, we’re gonna go to our place, you mind?" Chris asked as he looked back at you, "I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, we could always hit up a hotel," Matt shrugged.

You hummed, looking back and forth between them before making your decision, "no, yeah, i’m good with your place," they both visibly relaxed and grinned, "alright then, hop in, pretty," Matt said as he opened the backseat door.

𓆩♡𓆪

The drive to their place was fairly fast, accompanied by small talks and laughter, but that quickly turned into heated kisses and breathy moans once you got inside their house. Stumbling into one of their rooms, they started to strip you out of the skimpy costume.

Gently pushing you on the bed before they started to strip themselves, your gaze raked over their bodies as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once they were matching you in nakedness, they sat on either side of you, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

"Fuck, you’re so beautiful ma, so fucking beautiful," Chris murmured against the swell of your breast, "mhm... so pretty" Matt whispered an agreement in your ear before kissing along your jawline, his hand caressing your body, slowing inching down to cup your mound.

You hissed softly when his fingers made in contact with your swollen clit, slick with arousal, and throbbing for attention. The brothers quickly picked up on your growing need and desperation as they saw just how wet you had become.

Your folds glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the obvious need evident in your tone when Chris plunged a finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping in a second finger and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers.

"Someone’s eager," Matt chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual, betraying his arousal. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel more than usual or just the brothers themselves, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

They adjusted your position, easily manhandling you, but their touch was gentle– almost tender if you will. The new position gave them more to work with. You were on your hands and knees and they stood on their knees on either side of you, still squeezing and caressing every inch of skin they could touch.

They were big – huge even – it made you feel a bit nervous. They were easily 10", and who knows how thick, standing tall and proud. You gulped softly when Chris gripped your hip with one hand and led his length towards your aching pussy. The tip of his cock slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against him.

They chuckled at your needy gestures and sounds, "you’re so responsive ma, ’s intoxicating," Chris emphasized his words with a slap on your ass, causing you to jolt and whine, his hand gently caressing the reddening skin.

Matt, being the one in front of you, caressed your cheek and made you look up at him by lifting your face by your jaw. Smirking when he saw the desperation in your eyes, "what’s up pretty? Can’t handle a little teasing?" He spoke with faux sympathy, making you all the more desperate.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, you felt the sudden stretch, causing you to move forward—trying to get away from the sensation, only to be held in place by two pairs of hands. Chris clicked his tongue, "relax ma," his hands squeezed your ass, sinking his fingers in your plush flesh as he moved forward, filling you completely.

"Oh fu—ck, Chris too big–" your moans got muffled when Matt fed you his length, groaning at the sensation of your mouth on him and the vibrations from your moans as Chris took you from behind.

Chris’ pupils dilated when he saw the way your ass recoiled against his hips with each deep and slow thrust, he gripped your hips tighter and surged forward with increasing fervor. The force of it pushed you forward, each thrust making you involuntarily deepthroat Matt, making them both groan at the pleasure.

Chris suddenly pulled out, and stood up, "I think I’ve got something nice." Matt chuckled when he understood what Chris implied and pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. You looked at them confused, feeling empty and still aching with need.

A few minutes later, Chris came back with a vibrator and a bottle of lube in hand. You blinked rapidly as your gaze flickered between the brothers, making them chuckle, "don’t worry pretty, we’ll make you feel good, ’promise." Chris sat on the bed behind you, getting in position again.

"Alright ma, up," he playfully slapped your ass before helping you back in the position you were in moments ago, but this time you were facing Chris with Matt behind you. Your moans filled the room once again when Matt entered you, stretching you deliciously.

Your moans were quickly muffled by Chris’ cock, which you eagerly let in your mouth, and the pleasure was already bordering on too much. Your body tensed when you felt vibrations on your clit. Matt groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him like a vice, his hips picking up pace in response.

Your moans vibrated around Chris’ shaft, making him buck his hips faster, fucking your mouth as he gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your eyes rolled back briefly as Matt hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan louder.

The vibrations of the vibe increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. That was when Matt held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot—your g-spot.

The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but their hands kept you in place. With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn them due to Chris’ cock in your mouth. The brothers let out breathy chuckles when they saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

They followed you soon after, their releases filling up your holes. You couldn’t even keep yourself steady on your legs and arms anymore, it was all threatening to buckle under you any second.

Carefully, they laid you down, and seeing the wrecked state you were in just seemed to fuel their desires further. Their semi-hard lengths hardened once more as they gazed down at you. Your disheveled hair, the hickeys adorning your body, Matt’s release trickling out of you and Chris’ dripping down your chin.

Matt’s hand came up to caress your side, causing a breathy sigh to escape your lips, "you think you can go one more round pretty?" Chris chuckled softly, "mhm—ma, don’t think we can get enough of you, think you can take us both?"

"Both? like at the same time?" you whispered, your voice already hoarse from overuse. They nodded, chuckling as they helped you into a sitting position, "yeah, we’ve got lube, but it’s fine if you’re not up for it, pretty—" you cut him off, "well, I don’t mind, i mean... if it can fit that is..." your voice trailed off as you looked down at their laps.

"Don’t worry, ma, we’ll make it fit," is all you heard before they got in position. Matt laying with you on top of him and Chris behind you. The pop of the lube cap made your body shiver in anticipation, the mildly cold oil jolting every nerve as it ran down your slit, making you shudder.

Matt slowly pushed inside, eliciting a soft moan from you, and as you finally adjusted to his size, Chris nudged himself on your already full pussy. "Shh— ’s alright, pretty, just relax," Matt cooed from under you, his arms holding you in place as Chris entered you from behind. You squirmed under their touch, moaning loudly, and the stretch being too much, too big.

Chris grunted at the tightness as he pushed inside, stilling when he bottomed out inside you, "shit ma, so fuckin’ tight," he hissed through his teeth. Matt chuckled, his voice huskier, "yeah, you like how we stretch you, pretty? how fuckin’ big we are?" You could only mumble a "yes" that sounded more like a whimper.

They let you adjust to their sizes—the fullness and the stretch. Their hands caressed your body soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing your shoulders and neck.

You finally relaxed around them, moaning softly at the sudden pang of pleasure from being filled to the brim. Your pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by Matt and Chris, chuckling to themselves as they started to move. Your world blurred as you felt an immense pleasure you’ve never felt before.

Your body moved on its own, meeting their thrusts, wanting more of that delicious feeling. And all that only made them move faster – harder – thrusting into you with renewed fervor. Your hands clutched whatever you could hold, grounding yourself so you wouldn’t get consumed by the pleasure.

"Fu—ck pretty, so fuckin’ tight," Chris mumbled an agreement, both of them holding you in place as they took what they wanted. You could only hold on, and moan for them. "Shit, gonna fill you up so good— swell you with my cum, ma," Chris groaned, "Yeah, fuck— you ready for us pretty?" Matt added, muffling his sounds of pleasure on your shoulder.

You mumbled a plea for them to cum inside you—to which they gladly did, groaning and moaning as they filled you up. Their combined release spilled out from the sides, making a mess.

Gently pulling out from your well-used hole, their chests heaved with exertion. In spite of their softening cocks, they couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when they saw the sight of their mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

They both groaned under their breaths before exchanging knowing glances, a silent conversation between them, and slowly alerting you about their insatiable desires for you. "You okay, pretty?" Matt’s hand caressed your cheek while Chris squeezed your ass, "we’re not done with you ma, not by a long shot."

They chuckled as they saw you look at them surprised, but didn’t protest or say no, instead pulled them closer – a silent plea for more. "We’re gonna fuck this pussy so good," Matt whispered in your ear, "and fill you up with our spend until you swell with our babies," Chris added, whispering in your other ear.

Their words were filled with promises, and that alone made you feel immense pleasure, a need for more.

The next morning, you woke up with a bad headache, and sore all over. It wasn’t a surprise that you had a hangover but it was a surprise when you became aware of your surroundings. You were in an unknown room, entangled with not one, but two guys. It didn’t help that they were brothers, identical brothers.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl." Your friend’s words echoed in your head. Guess it wasn’t true after all, their bro code.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 3,086

Isa's notes. I've never written a Chratt fic before, or anything with two love interests, or a threesome in that matter so like... my bad if it's shit.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

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Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @grace-sturnz @billiesbabya

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dilf-docs · 26 days ago

Text

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

#dilfistwrites #gladiator II #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #marcus acacius #joseph quinn #connie nielsen #may calamawy #paul mescal #i love him #so down bad for my latino man #pls excuse the filth<3

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canthelpit0 · 8 months ago

Text

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

#Spotify #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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gojorgeous · 11 months ago

Text

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”

Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…

“Yes… Thank you.”

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”

“Take care.”

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…

“N-no–”

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”

“‘M following your scent, baby.”

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

“You on birth control, baby?”

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…”

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000

link: alpha!geto

link: 1k followers event!

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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spicygrilledscorpio · 6 months ago

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Sweet dreams - LN

Summary: Lando wanted to suprise his girlfriend but got suprised

Warnings: SMUT, somnophilia, horny!Lando, sleepy!reader, slight overstimulation(?), pet names, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (i think that’s it let me know if i missed any)

Side notes: English is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy❤️‍🔥

_________________________________________________

Y/n went to sleep wearing one of Lando’s button-ups with nothing underneath. She doesn’t usually go to sleep full commando but since her boyfriend isn’t home, why not? Lando was out for the triple header, he just finished Barcelona and was supposed to go straight to Austria, but Lando decided to give his girlfriend a surprise.

Lando opened the door to his apartment slightly, tiptoeing his way through the dark room, careful not to wake her up. He cracks the door to their bedroom quietly, guessing she was asleep since it was pretty late at night. He made his way to where she was lying, looking down at y/n’s peaceful face…until something caught his attention.

Y/n was letting out some incoherent mumbling and panting but was still pretty much fast asleep. She was straddling a pillow, that’s what caught Lando’s eyes. He reached for the pillow between her legs to remove it and to his surprise, there was a damp spot on the pillow. Lando’s eyes widen as he looks down at his girlfriend, who is now rubbing her legs together from the loss of the pillow. He parted her legs slightly, staring at the glistening wetness and leaning down, placing kisses on both sides of her thigh. Meanwhile, Y/n was still very deep asleep.

“P-please, Lando” Y/n mumbled in a quiet tone but enough for Lando to hear

He looks up from between her legs to see that she’s still sleeping. She’s having a wet dream. This is a perfect opportunity for Lando to try out something they talked about for a while but never got the chance to try.

He moved his finger up and down collecting the wetness and then bringing them up to his mouth to taste. He’s pretty sure if y/n was awake and watching him doing that right now, she would be too embarrassed and try to cover her red face. However, she was still fast asleep right now, stirred a little but nothing else, allowing Lando to do everything he wanted to her.

Lando leaned down and lick a stripe from her hole up to her clit, making her breath hitch in her sleep. He starts doing kitten licks and placing kisses on y/n’s clit, teeth glazing it sending shivers down her body

“L-Lan?” She woke up and tried to close her leg in confusion, unsure what was happening.

“I’m here princess, go back to sleep and lemme take care of you yeah?” Lando shushed y/n and pecked her lip before lowering himself again to finish what he started.

Lando started to eat you out like crazy. If anybody sees how he is right now they would think that he was starved for days. The combination of y/n’s arousal and his saliva glistening on her soaked cunt as he continues to devour her. Sucking and practically “making out” with her clit as two of his fingers enter her and immediately start to move at a brutal pace, as his other hand moves up to toy with y/n’s tits. It was too much for her, hands desperately trying to find something to grab onto when they found Lando’s hair.

“I-I’m close Lan”

Her boyfriend didn’t reply but hummed into her soaked cunt, sending vibration to y/n’s already sensitive clit, adding up to the knot building up in her lower abdomen, pushing her over the edge. She grabbed onto Lando’s hair tightly as she cum, moaning out loud.

“That’s it sweetheart, good girl” Lando coos as he plants kisses all over her face. Just when Y/n was about to doze off again, she felt Lando’s tip squeezing into her tight cunt.

“N-no, I want to sleep” Y/n whines, closing her legs and trying to push Lando away

“C’mon, just one more for me ok?”. Lando coos as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head. With one thrust, he bottomed out in her. Lando let out a groan feeling her warm, tight cunt wrapping around his hard member.

“So good f’me huh baby” He whispers in her ear, feeling her clenching extra hard down on him. Lando started with slow but deep strokes, hitting y/n’s G-spot with every thrust making her moan out loud.

“M-more”

“I thought you wanted to sleep, no?” Lando jokes as y/n gives him a death stare.

“Your wish is my command, princess” He chuckled slightly as he increased his pace, hips snapping into her at brutal speed. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises from the combination of her arousal and his pre-cum fills the room.

“I’m close-“

“Cum for me baby” Lando’s hand sneaks down to rub her clit in a circular motion, adding more pleasure, and pushing her over the edge. Y/n let out a loud moan as she comes, clenching around and milking his cock. Lando pulls out and shoots his cum on her stomach.

“Did so well for me, gorgeous” Lando says as he pecks her lip quickly then runs to grab a towel to clean both of them up. After he’s done with the cleaning, Lando climbs onto the bed to cuddle up with Y/n.

“So what were you dreaming about earlier” Lando asks as Y/n hits his chest playfully with her palm.

“Some handsome guy teasing me”

#f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando imagine #lando norris #lando x you #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #lando smut #ln4 x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader

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mysteryshoptls · 5 days ago

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SSR Idia Shroud - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

Whew... Finally that pesky sun's gone down... Now, it's my turn to shine!

Summon: Fheeheehee, once I change into these clothes, I'm utterly invincible!! ...K, guess I'll go grab the birthday voice lines from my games, then.

Groovification: I wake up on my birthday with horrible bedhead and stiff joints everywhere after falling asleep during gaming... Ah, another wonderfully normal day!

Home: This is when my true form is unlocked...!

Swap Looks: I can fix my bedhead in a snap, so.

Home Transition 1: Haaah～ I need more soft things to cuddle... Maybe I'll buy a kitty-shaped cushion as a birthday gift for myself...

Home Transition 2: Cater-shi and the other guys in my class said to come by the classroom on my birthday and they'll celebrate with me... Well, unfortunately, I've got a stomachache planned for that day...

Home Transition 3: I snuck out to the Mystery Shop in the middle of the night and saw someone that looked just like Epel-shi covertly buying huge chunks of jerky. Or, was that a dream?

Home Transition - Login: Oh, a new high score! Looks like with the new memory upgrade, both me and my computer have gotten better! Fheeheehee!

Home Transition - Groovy: I can't believe he heard my mumbling to myself... A beastman's ーor ratherー Jack-shi's sense of hearing is something to be feared.

Home Tap 1: I may hate exercise, but I could dance and cheer to my fav idols for hours on hours... Never underestimate a fanboy's potential!

Home Tap 2: If I braided my hair like Jamil-shi does, maybe it'd look cool, like a flame whip... Nah, I'd definitely get teased for it. Nevermind.

Home Tap 3: Ah! Ortho's gonna get mad at me again that I left all my manga laying around. Guess I'll just have to clean it up with a bit of magic.

Home Tap 4: Why've there been waaaay too many good anime to watch recently!? I got not time to watch everything, there's still older masterpieces and movie adaptions I need to watch too!!

Home Tap 5: Since I'm just a shut-in pretty much all the time, it's not like I've set aside clothes for lounging and clothes for going out. I've even gone to town wearing this... You got a problem with that?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, this? It's a limited edition Premo shirt from one of their live performances. Hey, wait, you better not buy one from a reseller just 'cause they don't sell it anymore. Don't do it!

Duo: [IDIA]: I'm getting birthday wishes... from Jack-shi!? [JACK]: 'Cause it's your birthday, Idia-senpai!

Birthday Login Message: Hi... Need something from me? ...My birthday? Oh, well, now that you mention it! Th-Thanks... I completely forgot after Ortho wished me a happy birthday this morning... Did I get anything from anyone else? Wh-Wh-Why're you asking a loner like me that!? I p-pretty much just avoid everyone else, so. The most I did today was play with Azul-shi during our Boardgame Club time... Obviously I utterly crushed him!! ...Eh, you think he went easy on me 'cause it was my birthday? Uh-huh... If you really think that, how about a game, then? Don't come crying to me later after you lose, though, fheehee.

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idia shroud #jack howl #twst idia #twst jack #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: cater #mention: epel #mention: jack #mention: jamil #mention: ortho

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localkiss · 2 months ago

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Fucking After Party!

pairings: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: Of course your big brother coddles you. Do you find it weird? Yes. So, you slip away to a Halloween party, unbeknownst to what will happen later in the night. Maybe you'll find yourself clinging to your older brother in time of need.

cw: MDNI!! INCEST !! Knives, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, noncon/dubcon, creampies, spanking, manhandling, degradation, praise, overstimulation, poor depictions of alcohol and drinking, poor depictions of flirting (im shorry), videotaping.. um probably more but i don't wanna spoil it. LEON IS VERY OOC (since some ppl are babies about that 🙄)

wc: 4.6k

tags: @dilfstar @adiorxia @leonkennedygvrl @bunnyclaire @rigorwhoring @leonsdolly @admirxation @gettingsilly @nilpill @withonly-sweetheart @cakelitter

“Hey little sis,” he hums out, hand reaching up to pet your head with affection. Thinking about how cute you are when you look up at him with red hot cheeks. His eyes dip down your body, so soft and plush. Perfect.

“Leoonnnn!” You drag out his name in an annoyed tone. Swatting his hand away. Can't help but think that he's a pest, constantly buzzing around you. Never leaving you alone.

Like, c’mon doesn't he have a job? He's always been a bit of a lurker around you, but especially now that you're in college. Can't always be his baby sis. One day, you'll have a significant other, leave the house, and sort of cut contact for the most part. Be too busy to entertain your loser of an older brother.

To him though? You will be by his side forever. Dote on you forever and ever. Never make you pay any bills, lift a finger, or even have the time to complain about something. Because, guess what! Big brother is always here for you. To take care of you and never make you have to get a job to sustain yourself.

Leon just chuckles at your display of frustration. He wants to comment on how cute you are, especially when you say his name like that.

Wants to just snatch you up and cuddle with you until you are fast asleep in his arms. His strong, firm biceps against your body like you're a body pillow.

Imagining you scooting up close until you're snug against his body. Your ass pressing into his groin so much that he can feel your tailbone. To imagine you knocked out so he can take full advantage of you. Better yet, if you pretend to be asleep, letting him grope you in ways a brother shouldn't.

Honestly, he thought about ordering some sleeping pills to dissolve into your drinks. So when he feels like feeling you up in your sleep, he can do it while making sure you're gonna stay asleep.

And place a camera in your room so he can watch back on how you look and react in your sleep. See if you smile in your sleep. Good material to jerk off to, especially good if he manages to snag a pair of your panties.

He sucks on his teeth and shakes his head down at you. “So… where’re you headed, looking like that? Got a hot date or what?” Leon drags his eyes slowly once more. One thing caught his eye immediately. Can't believe he didn't even notice it the first time he looked at you.

You are wearing black pantyhose and a white mini dress. What are you, some cheap hooker? No, no, no… you are his baby. Only he should see you like this. Not some fucking douchebag who's going to do a pump and dump.

Man, if he ever catches some guy trying to dick you down in your bed.. it'll be over. One flash of his badge and the guy will go running off with his tail between his legs. It doesn't mean anything to Leon if your love or sex life doesn't even begin.

“I'm going to a Halloween party.” You answer bluntly, gesturing towards your sexy nurse rendition. Shifting from one foot to the other, your maroon colored heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Sighing deeply, like he's boring you.

Leon raises his eyebrows. Even worse than a date. A whole party full of immature adults whose brains aren't fully developed. Great. Perfect.

“Sure you don't want me to go with you? I can be a sexy cop,” he puts his hands on his hips with a sly smile. “I can even bring my handcuffs.”

You wrinkle your nose at that. “Um, no thanks. You'll just be watching me the entire time, again. Remember last time?”

Closing your eyes and shaking your head rapidly for a few seconds. It was weird.

“Oh come on , I was making sure nobody was trying anything funny. Can't consent if you're totally wasted.” As if he isn't planning on touching you in your sleep.

Though, you've no idea that he's thinking this stuff. Supposed to be a good guy. Good cop.

However, there is something about you that makes that dark side of his brain itch. Maybe it is because you are his little sister? The fact that you guys used to play house together? Used to do things that would be weird to do as two grown adults.

Him being the husband, you being the wife. Parents in the other room as you mimicked what they did a lot, which is a quick peck on the lips. It was innocent.

Or when you both were forced to change in the bathroom together, after swimming. It was all fine and dandy since you're family. And when it became weird, was when you were fourteen and he was sixteen.

Weird that your brother kept following you and bothering you. Or was the chaperone at dances. Always staring and glaring down at other boys. Pissed you off and you both argued on the way home. You did not have a good time at any dances because of him.

“I need to protect you from the bad guys,” he said. “Mom says I have to watch you, since I'm older than you,” he said. What is he, some sort of hero?

It only got worse when you walked in on him masturbating. You remember the way his mouth was formed in an ‘o’ shape, how his cock was flushed at the tip. How he had his head tilted back into his pillow. The lewd sounds of him fucking his fist and his soft groans and whimpers. And how his muscles rippled with each tug, the slight sheen of sweat on his naked figure.

Leon was just mumbling to himself. “Yeah? Yeah, just like that. Mhmm…”

“Take it baby, take it.”

“Please let me cum inside of you. Please let me.”

And a whole bunch of other things you simply wish you never heard out of his mouth. It makes you cringe. But you also feel disgusted for squeezing your thighs together as you watched him. He was big. Real big.

“Yeah. But I want to go, to have a good time, Leon.” You insist on leaving alone. “I'll text you if I need any help.”

Giving him a flat smile, you click clack your way to your friend's car outside. Getting inside the vehicle and driving away swiftly. Looking out the window and seeing Leon wave goodbye to you.

As soon as you arrive at the party, you are bombarded with the smell of weed, sweat, and alcohol. Just the right scent notes for a candle!

You shimmy your way into the kitchen for a red solo cup to fill up with some concoction of alcohol and juice. Doing so, you find yourself flirting with a guy who is dressed up as a vampire. And he convinces you to dance with him.

Making your way to the dance floor, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. Slowly moving it down towards your hips. It’s a bit weird for someone to be so confident and comfortable with touching a woman like that immediately. But you ignore it for the time being.

Slowly getting to know him and all of his interests. Barely giving you any time to talk about yourself. It's whatever. He's cute.

It sure is fun letting loose and drinking all your sorrows away.

You feel his hand start to slip down towards the top of your ass. Still, you don't say anything. Maybe it's just the alcohol dulling your senses, you just can't find a care in the world to stop him.

He leads you back to the kitchen, pouring you a drink. Urging you to finish what he made you before you both got back to the dance floor. Kind of weird, but alright.

Shit. All you can see and feel is his soft body against you, his dick grinding up against your stomach. The black shaggy hair and his stupid vampire collar. And his old spice ass cologne, ugh. Headache central.

You excuse yourself and go to the kitchen. Fixing yourself another cup, because fuck it. And then another man comes up and starts chatting away with you.

Eventually, you both make it outside. Talking about the most random bullshit you could think of.

This guy's pretty cute too. No costume though, from what you could tell. And, he's eyeing you up like candy. Like he wants to eat you up here and now. Hot…!

He's tall, skinny, and has dark brown hair. Oh, not to mention the weird black lines on his face. Maybe…it's his costume? You hope.

“So, what's your costume?” You gesture towards his outfit.

“I'm dressed up as Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen, you probably don't know it. It's an anime.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk to his lips.

Oh! So he's one of those guys. Yeah, nevermind. No thanks, Mr. Nice guy.

“Oh, okay… Cool. I'll be sure to look that up later,” you hum and nod your head.

He created this awkward atmosphere. Best to just swipe it under the rug and talk about something else. Or, just get more alcohol! Because alcohol fixes everything!

Both of you make your way back into the house and you grab some more of that good stuff. Gulping it all down and smoothing your slutty nurse outfit out. Bending over to fix your stockings, to make sure it looks cute still.

Somebody comes up behind you and whistles. That gets your attention in the wrong way. Doesn't matter to the guy though. Attention is attention. Can't help but wrinkle your nose at him, watching him walk away with a smug look on his face.

You straighten up and sigh, checking your phone. It's only been two hours?

God, it feels like it's been an eternity in this swamp of horny drunk adults. You can't see your friends anywhere, assuming they've already left and are going to hookup with some stranger. Like always, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. It's cool though.

Rubbing your bleary eyes, you stumble out the front door. The chilly air of October coming to bite you in the ass. Quite literally. It's almost hanging out with the way it keeps riding up. It's not too cold, as you have some liquid courage in your system! Thank god for that!

Feeling your teeth start to chatter, you manage to send your location to Leon. Opening your camera, you take a good look at yourself. Fixing yourself up to take a few photos. Might as well, since you look absolutely amazing. Wouldn’t want this makeup to be all for nothing, now would we?

As you smile and pose for the camera, you feel two arms slipping around your waist. But no groin pressing up against you. Odd. You bite your lip and turn your head.

“What the—Leon?”

“Yes, silly. That's my name, don't wear it out.” He chuckles down at you. “What? I was getting ready to pose for a picture with you.”

You roll your eyes, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. And at the last second, he moves his hand to come up and squish your cheeks together. Ruining the photo.

Turning around, you let out a huff of air. Hitting him once in the chest before making your way to his Jeep. Not bothering to chastise him for doing that. You've had enough of men for today.

Buckling yourself, you squeeze your legs together, trying to warm up quickly. The warm air fanning all around you, undoing all the prickles in your skin, it's refreshing. Leon gets into the driver's side and buckles himself before driving back to your guys’ house.

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back against the headrest. The bumps and the soft sound of the radio killing you to sleep. Thankfully Leon doesn't say anything the rest of the way home.

As the car slows to a stop, you wake up from your little—but much appreciated—nap. Groaning, you unbuckle and get out. Staggering your way up the stairs and waiting for Leon to hurry up and unlock the front door.

His thick hair bounces with each step he takes as he jogs his way towards you. Opening it and walking inside, shutting it and locking it behind you.

He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the door and disappears into the hallway. You sigh, taking your heels off and hurrying to your room. Closing it behind you, you set your shoes on the floor. Flopping onto your bed with a groan.

Before you could begin to take off your clothes, the power goes out. Leaving you in complete darkness. Double tapping your phone, you put on your flashlight.

“Leon?” You call out, crawling out of bed to open your door.

A few beats later there's a loud thud, which makes you jump. Okay, now you are really scared. Soft hums and deafening white noise fills your ears. You go to his door and knock on it.

No answer, yet again. Did this asshole fall asleep? Great.

Making your way towards the living room, you hear yet another noise. “Ha ha.. very funny Leon! I know its you.”

You hope it's just him pulling a prank. Hope.

And when you finally reach to your destination, you move your phone around to see if anyone's there. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a tall black figure.

Screaming, you almost slip and fall trying to run back into your room. But before you could make it, their hands grab onto your waist as tight as possible. Pulling you back towards their chest. God damn it, you dropped your phone!

“Please let me go!” You start panicking and sobbing, kicking your feet out in hopes that they drop you. “I don't wanna die! Please…!”

They don't, obviously. And you try to elbow them in the stomach, hearing them groan and tighten their grip around you. Putting one hand over your mouth with ease.

The man drags you back into the living room, throwing you on the couch and straddling your hips. You hear him snort and in turn makes your stomach churn with disgust mixed with fear. Sobbing, you feel weak due to being inebriated and scared. Unable to try and push him off of you.

“You're so stupid,” he says lowly, his gloved hands pinning your wrists down with one, the other one squishing your cheeks together. “So slutty too.”

His hand leaves your face and traces the curves of your body. Too bad you can't see his face. Stupid mask.

“W-What do you want from me?” You squeak out, feeling his hand start to grope at your chest with interest.

“Your virginity, baby.” He coos, ripping off your skimpy nurse dress. The buttons go flying everywhere. His voice sounds familiar though.

In the state of shock, he takes the opportunity to pull out his knife and cut through your bra. Watching the way your nipples pebble up and how your tits jiggle. Putting his knife back, he groans. Grabbing a tit and squeezing it before letting it go to slap it.

“Stop it! Why are you doing this to—”

Listening to the way you gasp and whimper. He repeats it a couple times to each tit, before he pulls up his mask just enough to see his mouth.

Leaning down, he forces you into a kiss. His hand lightly holding you down by the neck, his thumb gently squeezing the side. Letting you feel lightheaded so that you still panic at the thought of him killing you.

“Taste so good, pretty girl.” The man laughs into the kiss before he gets off of you.

Maneuvering you into the missionary position. Pushing your legs down with his weight as he ties your hands together.

Once he deems it good enough, he gets up and starts to shuffle things around. And lights a few candles, making you squint, noticing something being propped up. Blinking a few times, you see it's a fucking camera.

“Please, don't do this to me. Please…” you beg him, watching him make his way back to you.

His hands sliding up your legs, playing with the stockings you have on. “Cute tights you've got on, slut.” He hums, his thumbs trace the lace.

Moving up until he reaches your panties. “Hm, cute thong too. I see it's nice and soaked for me. And here you were, screaming and crying for me to stop.” He cuts them off of you, dragging the dull tip of his blade against your skin. Seeing you jump as he gets closer to your chubby cunt.

“Got nothing to say?” The man puts his knife away, his thumb swiping over your folds. Not rubbing where you want him to rub, just teasing around it.

“Please…” you whine out, trying to move your hips in a way that makes his thumb press against your clit.

He chuckles, laying between your thighs, holding them up over his shoulders. “I know, I know. You want your pretty pussy to be played with. Want it to be raped too, huh?” Licking up and down your lips, teasingly dipping his tongue into your hole.

Groaning, he starts to suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. You moan and squirm under him, feeling his hot tongue against your clit feels soo good. Moving your tied hands down to grab at his head. Needing to hold on to something.

“Mmh.. right there,” you mewl, grabbing at his head harder. Hearing him slurp and moan into your pussy like he's the one that's getting head.

“Yeah, right here?” He goads, taking your clit between his teeth gently. Nibbling on it and swirling his tongue all over it. And all thoughts in your head became mush.

It creeps up on you like a jump scare in a movie. One minute you're fine, next minute you are jumping. Not because you're scared, but because you came so hard your body couldn't help but thrash around.

“I'm… I'm c-coming!” Loud cries came out of your mouth as your legs shook and planted themselves against his head. The fact a camera is recording your every move and word, slips out of your brain and out into his mouth.

And he greedily latches his mouth onto your hole. Getting every last drop of your cum before he sits up on his haunches and removes his mask. Maybe it's because you just came, but you aren't so alarmed that it's Leon.

“What the fuck? Leon?!” Your cunt throbs, feeling your heart sink down straight to your ass. You can't even move properly and that makes him smile.

“What the fuck, Leon?” He mocks you, leaning down to get all up in your face. “So fucking cute,” he hums, squishing your face together before moving it away from him, “so stupid though. I mean, fuck. You'd get wet and spread your legs for any man who wants to lick you open?”

Leon tuts, giving your cheek a few taps before he pushes down his black sweats. His cock already hard and flushed red at the tip. Giving it a few slow strokes, his other hand gently roams up your body, giving your boob a feel.

“Gonna let big brother take your virginity? Let me split open this cute cunt?” Leon watches you intently, tapping the weeping tip on your sensitive bud. “Not gonna fuck you until you beg for it.” Grabbing your left leg and lifting it up against his chest.

You feel your eyes well up with tears once more. Lifting your head, you watch his heavy cock play with your pussy lips. Blinking them away, you swallow the thickness in your throat.

“Please.. fuck me,” you mumble out, looking away, towards the camera unknowingly.

“What was that? Speak up, princess.” Leon guides the tip to your hole, letting it kiss your opening.

“Oh my fucking god! Just fuck me, Leon!”

Shaking his head disapprovingly, he leans down, pushing it in slowly. “Big brother's gotta fuck this attitude out of you, hm? Yeah, he's gonna keep this fat cunt nice and full until she's learned her lesson.” His dirty brown hair falls into your face as he moans from the sensation of your cunt around his length.

Keeping his eyes locked into your face as he sinks deeper into you. “Does it hurt, baby?”

“Yeah,” you clench down on him, your velvety walls squeezing him just right. “It's too big.” A deep whine in your throat bubbles up.

“Aww, poor pussy’s gonna go through it, yeah? Too bad big brother's cock wants to punish his little sister's cunt. Mhm…” he presses his lips against yours as he humps your wetness, softly making out with you. His hand goes up your arm and holds your hand in reassurance.

As you lock tongues, he takes the opportunity to go just a bit harder and faster. Groaning as you flutter and cant your hips into his pelvis. The shaven patch of hair just runs against your clit just right.

Pulling away, he lets go of your leg and hand, holding onto your hip and pushing your face towards the camera. “I'm recording this, smile for the camera baby,” he says between gritted teeth.

Moaning, you look directly into the lenses, tightening around him. “Mmhh—fuck—please!” you squirm, moving your arms to block your face. Too embarrassed to look into it while he's fucking you.

“You camera shy now? So adorable, lil sis,” he grunts, plowing even harder now. Both hands gripping onto the fat of your hips, listening to the squelching from your wetness. “You hear that? Sopping wet for your big brother. Tightened up when you were forced to look into the camera. It's okay baby, nobody else will see this video but me.” His thumb starts to swirl around your clit hard.

Rubbing it fast, feeling you start to come undone on his dick. The feeling of his leather gloves catches onto your clit deliciously. You feel red and hot all over, your stomach tensing up. And you start screaming, legs going numb, feeling your upper body jerk forward as you cum. “Leon!”

“Fuck!” Leon rabbits his hips into your squelching heat, roughly fucking you into the couch, “didn't know you'd squirt so easily.” He lets out a mix of a moan and a laugh, giving your pussy a few taps before putting you into a mating press.

Feeling your lace stockings against his head as he drives into his own orgasm. “All fucked out now, mhm. Yeah, big brother's g’nna feed your pussy his cum. Get you fucking pregnant, oh—”

He growls as his balls plap against your ass. Filling you up with hot white sticky ropes, stuffing you to the brim. But his hips don't stop fucking it into you. Pressing his cold lips against yours, he slows down.

Leon huffs and leans back, pulling out his still hard cock soaked with a mixture of your fluids and his. Watching your cunt open and close, oozing out his spend.

He unties your wrists and rubs up and down your sides. “Let me fuck you again, please lil sis?” Feeling your body hiccup and twitch from overstimulation.

Rubbing your ruined eye makeup, you weakly nod your head. “Uhuh, want it again.”

And then he's back all over you. Kissing you and groping your tits. Twisting your nipples and pinching them as his mouth makes its way to your neck. Begining to litter you with marks to insinuate you are taken.

He switches to the other one, giving it the same love and attention he gave to your right breast. And before he stops, he presses a kiss in the valley of your breasts.

“Okay, on your stomach now.” He guides you to flip over, spreading your ass to watch your holes wink at him. Gives it a smack, loving the way it moves.

Leon braces himself on his forearm as he pushes the head back in. Whimpering as he presses his chest against your back, arms caging you into the couch.

“Good god, you're so tight,” humping into you, he whispers into your ear. His breath hot and his voice low, sending chills down your spine and it warms your belly up.

“This slutty pussy is mine, alright? Won't let any other man come near you. You're my little sister.”

“Uhuh, s’all yours big brother,” you feed into his fucked up mindset. Letting him fuck you into his idealization of you. Soft, sweet, and pliant.

Rocking your hips back, you moan into the cushions. With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper. Making you arch your back from how deep he is.

Soft squeaks and punched out groans rise from your throat, “Leon, please,” grabbing ahold of his hand and squeezing it. “Oh, fuck, please.”

His pace starts to pick up, watching the way your head bobbles from his thrusts. Heavy balls plapping away at your clit, making you cry out. He drives himself harder into your wet hole, striving to make you cum again.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Soak my cock again, uhuh, c’mon baby,” Leon encourages you, whimpering and growling in your ear. The loud slapping noises echoing throughout the room. The smell of sex and sweat twirling in the air like dust particles.

Hot and heavy breaths against your neck as he clumsily kisses your pulse point. You shivering beneath him, milking his cock for all its worth is what drives him crazy. Pushing on your lower back as he grips a cheek and then slaps it. Over and over again.

Hearing you crying out for him is enough for him to spill his seed once more. He pulls your hair and makes your face visible to the camera, coaxing you through your final orgasm of the night. Listening to you squeal and call out his name.

“Good girl. You ready for me to pump this cunt up full with my cum?” Leon starts humping you, barely pulling out as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Eyes rolling into the back of your head as he slams his hips against your ass.

About a half a dozen of thrusts, he spurts his load deep into your womb. Letting go of your hair, he lazily grinds his seed into your throbbing pussy as much as he can, before all of it comes pooling out.

“Fuck me, jesus christ. ‘Bout emptied my balls into you. Fuck, I was backed up.” Leon pulls out of you and spreads you open, watching it bubble and pop out. Biting his lip as he pushes it back in with his thumb.

Pulling up his pants, he grabs a few tissues to clean you up. As well as the couch. Oops, hope your parents don't notice any stains!

“I'm so full,” you mumble, wincing as you turn on your back. “It's going to be your fault if I can't walk tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He snorts, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Oh shit, I've got to stop the recording,” he goes over and shuts it off with a dopey smile on his face. “taking your first time on our first tape together.”

Groaning, you push him away as he begins to snuggle with you. “God. Gross, get out of here.”

“C'mon, I'll buy you as many sour patch kids and chocolates as you want. But first, let's go clean up properly.” He convinces you and you allow him to carry you bridal style into the bathroom.

Of course, with a roll of your eyes with it too. “You better.” Because you wouldn't be his cute baby sis without having some sort of attitude towards him. Even after he fucked your brains out.

(genuinely forgot where i got the divider for the content warning. augh. I'll find it later.)

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil smut #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #localkiss #divider by cafekitsune

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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months ago

Text

Tastes like strawberries

Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)

Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.

Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults

Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3

The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.

With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.

11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.

Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.

8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.

The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words.

—

Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.

You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.

You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"

He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."

You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”

Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”

His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."

The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.

"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises."

As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim.

As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.

He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.

The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter.

The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.

"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."

The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.

Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."

You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.

The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.

"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.”

As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”

“Joel, I dont know what to say.”

“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.”

As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.

Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.

You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.

"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.

You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”

You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”

You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.

Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you.

His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."

The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”

He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.

Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.

His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.

"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.

Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze.

"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—"

He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.

"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.

Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.

Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."

Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you. Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.

As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.

You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release. As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,” he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office.

You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”

His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.

Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him.

Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.

"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."

You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."

He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.

"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.

Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.

"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.

Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."

You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.

Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.

You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.

True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."

"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."

You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.

"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"

You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.

As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.

You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."

He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.

When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk.

Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.”

As you step out of the car, the cool air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.

"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."

Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."

With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.

As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.

You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.

1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again."

The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.

1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller. you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.

His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness.

1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.

You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.

1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.

1:12PM Yes sir.

1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.

Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through

1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal

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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago

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distant calls

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, like one use of kid, protective!rafe, one mention of violence, kinda creeper!rafe i guess??, dubcon possibly?? not really but just in case!

“hey princess.” rafe smiles when he hears immediately how excited you are.

“hi rafey!” you squeal into the phone, wishing you weren't separated by the distance, forced to talk on the phone instead of in person.

“how was your day pretty girl? what did you do?” rafe asks.

your cheeks blush red at the nickname, never getting used to it no matter how many times he uses it on you.

“well, it was a port day!” you start to describe your cruise. you really did try to have fun with your parents, but part of you longed to have rafe around, to be back in the obx where he could look after you.

you tell rafe all about the city you stopped in, where you went to shop and a cave exploring excursion that you ended up sitting out to wait on the beach until your parents got back.

you kick your feet up and down, back and forth as you recount everything to rafe. he stays mostly quiet, only letting out a few grunts and light sighs that you suppose is his affirmation that he's listening.

you feel so lucky to have captured rafes interest. you're not dating, haven't done anything at all yet beyond rafe holding your hand when you cross the street, but you're enamored with him. rafe is just as infatuated with you, but he would be damned if he told you, preferring to just keep you smiling and beat up any guys who look at you even a second too long at parties.

“and then we got back on the ship.” you twirl a finger absentmindedly over the blanket as you lay on your stomach on the bed.

“did you eat baby?” rafe asks, his voice sounding strained.

“yes, of course.” you nod quickly despite rafe not being able to see you. “we went to the buffet and i got a chicken salad and then i even got dessert!” your exclaim, proud of yourself. “i got vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”

“that's good, kid.” rafe let's out another sigh that has you pressing your ear into the phone, listening intensely to hear a weird somewhat wet sound that you can't place.

“keep-” rafe gasps out. “keep talking baby. tell me about-” he has to pause again as he grunts. “tell me about tomorrow.”

you instantly lose your suspicion as you let out another squeal. “rafey, you will never believe it!” you explain how you're going snorkeling in an area where people commonly see dolphins and you're really hoping you see them on the boat ride out to the reef.

you giggle with excitement, not realizing what your sounds are doing to rafe.

many hours away, back in the outer banks, rafe is laying on his bed, back propped up against the pillows, one hand holding his phone close to his ear while his other furiously strokes his cock.

it wasn't his intention when you first got on the phone, but hearing your sweet little voice had him pulling his cock out of his shorts.

“oh wow.” rafe says, tacking on a moan at the end that he hopes is disguised by his words.

rafe knows he's going to break the second you get back from your cruise. he's going to pick you up himself and bring you to the closest bed, even if it's a shitty motel. he's not even confident he'll make it that far without needing to take you. maybe the side of the highway will do.

you continue talking away about the itinerary, not a clue in the world that rafe is so close to ending the game you've been playing, the teasing about to come to a wicked end.

“are you in your pajamas?” rafe asks, interrupting you. but he doesn't care. he needs to know more.

“yup.” you say, popping your p’s. “been in my room for like half an hour now. it's so warm even with the ac blasting i'm wearing just a t-shirt.”

it's all rafe needs, the image of you splayed out on the bed with just a t-shirt on, pushed up to reveal your bare cunt and perfect tits. rafe doesn't hold back his sounds as much as he knows he should, grunting as he cums with a final stroke, releasing all over his abs.

“you okay rafey?” you question.

“im perfect, dollface.” rafe says, sighing as he lets go off his softening cock.

“wanna switch to facetime?” you pout. “i miss looking at you.”

rafe switches without second thought, loving to see the way your eyes widen when you realize he's in bed shirtless, eyes squinting at the sticky white substance dotting his lower half.

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winxanity-ii · 3 months ago

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LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic—the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

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elizabethrobertajones · 4 months ago

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summer scions!! I absolutely love the new portraits for all their smug happy expressions. Except Y'shtola, who is not going to deign to give a camera a proper saucy look because that's silly. Urianger is smirking twice as hard on her behalf.

Glam review under the cut!

I unlocked Alphinaud first of the twins and didn't know Alisaie had a little necktie yet, so I'm deducting a point from my first impression because the sheer delight that he had a silly little necktie of some sort no matter the situation delighted me so thoroughly. Since they're still engaging in matchy twin dressing to some degree, I have to assume they either like it and won't admit it after digging in so hard, or Ameliance sent them off with cute outfits and matching backpacks, and they still don't really shop for themselves.

He's got the practical watch/compass gloves which are good for a technically proficient Sage and probably the most practical gear he's ever worn except for when he was poncho Alphy, but wearing ankle-length jeans seem like the least weather-appropriate choice of the Scions if we assume their average skin coverage is a good weathervane for the temperature in Tural. I chalk it up to teenage awkwardness.

8/10 unless he and Alisaie chose their outfits themselves, in which case it's a 9/10

I think Alisaie is the only Scion to keep a single piece of their default gear, and those are her usual gloves. She's colour-matched around it.

Because of the gloves and boots, she looks the most ready for hardcore hiking, somehow, and her matching Alphinaud with a cute button down shirt with rolled up sleeves along with that particular choice of baggier shorts (when she normally wears more form fitting shorts) do give me the closest to butch vibes it's probably likely to get for main characters. So I'm giving her an extra point I stole from Alphinaud for the lesbian vibes.

9/10 or 10/10 if she made these choices all by herself.

Everything about this cracks me up, from his portrait above to the image of him tanking open shirted once he pulls mobs.

Believe it or not, he's getting an additional point for those shoes simply because the competition in practicality in tanking is G'raha.

I had a moment of excitement when I thought the necklace was pink because that's always a cute Ryne/Minfillia thing fanartists give him with ribbons and such, but once I got zoomed in on him it was red, so I guess he's just been shopping. Although, the turquoise shorts are her eye colour and the actual large diamond shapes are secretly Mothercrystal coded in those colours, which just cracks me up that you can pick out one of the worse days of his life (Urianger's grand Warrior of Darkness plan) in his Chill Summer Beach Vibes look.

Douchebag beach bro shell bracelet as well, which really makes me double down on him and Urianger spending way too much on tourist bait along the stalls in the Famous Turali Market. The hat and sunglasses are giving him one of the Most tourist-y looks thematically reflecting how a lot of the Scion guys were just here to hang out, narratively or literally. Maybe he's trying not to get such an intense tan again, which is the only reason he's not entirely topless.

11/10 I could not stop laughing when I got him and Urianger to 100 and Beheld The Brilliance in the same moment.

Please note the raised sunglasses in Urianger's portrait, which are not the model his character uses.

I am delighted that I had been incorporating that island watch into my healer glams on both the logic you need to know your clock positionals but also they're largely the smarty pants jobs (WHM being vibes only aside - it gets its own glams :P). And here's Urianger and Alphinaud both using watches.

Now, I had a moment of being vaguely disappointed he had trousers not a skirt or something else swishy and androgynous, but then I did realise that I, a nonbinary weirdo who relates to Urianger since he made me nonbinary, have actually gone to a couple of garden parties dressed in some variation of this exact outfit of light trousers and a nice button up. Plus, the earrings are in both ears, so no "Google, which ear is the gay one?", these are just straight up cute femme dangly earrings with his favourite little dudes on.

More importantly, the colours he's repping are those of Lopporit Radio. He probably tunes in every night for his broadcasts :')

Mirrored sunglasses for the guy notorious for keeping thoughts and plans close to his chest and choosing deliberately to be enigmatic even when it serves zero purpose except for I guess gender affirming care. (The gender is Weird Bitch.)

I can't tell how I feel about those dad sandals. I suppose it depends if he's wearing them like a fashion model (brand new and clean with perfect pedicured feet) or if those are REALLY dad at the beach-like and, since I'm not a foot person, this for me is only a choice between "not off-putting" and "AURGH".

9/10 the proximity to Thancred hauls him up several points of misgivings I had, and the lopporit shout outs are killing me :')

I unlocked Y'shtola last and holy fuck I am a lesbian. I don't even recognise where those boots come from, so either a really expensive glam or something I just have not stumbled on. She has toe rings I think? And painted nails? I have no idea if the garter (?) is part of the boots glam or a custom thing as result of not recognising the boots and how much of them is normal. I feel like they customised a lot on her anyway - the back of her top has purple beads that match her staff (not dyable on the real piece)

and I think the necklace has to be part of the top instead of a separate necklace piece with the way it hangs, AND the bracelets are a glove piece with the original summer glam, but I assume they're layered with the false nails, also in the glove slot. All in all it's giving the sort of effort which is starting to creep up to what I'd expect from the modding community not the game. I mean, not THAT good but getting close. Baby steps towards what fandom can make :P

She really is god's favourite meow meow.

Anyway I can't really judge this fairly because it's really hot and I love her so I'm just going to give it 100/10 and move on. :)

how did I get a picture where Estinien looks like he's stooping to get in the frame...

The fact he has Azure Dragoon Blue Top and then Violently Nidhogg Fuchsia shorts is the colour theory that absolutely killed me. When he lights up during his burst and starts glowing pink all over his shorts are like. Taking him over like the eye once did I think.

love a guy who can embrace his past trauma and dress to match all that has passed before and all that he intends to do now (kill something large and tasty, grill it on the beach, fall asleep with a beer in hand until the waves come in and wake him up).

I gave him that wooden bracelet in the glam he has on my desktop screen so once again I'm feeling weirdly vindicated.

Other details: no ponytail despite the warm weather because he's got enough ventilation. The fact there's cactaurs on his shirt when he's on record for eating them is amazing. We should imagine he's wearing his jobstone like that pendant (since he's one of the only guys with a confirmed jobstone despite being the Guy Without A Job notoriously that one time.)

Unlike Thancred's hat and sunglasses combo, which seems fun and boisterous somehow, he seems the most walled off of all the sunglasses wearers even though he's not the most mysterious. The visor really helps make it a sort of wall. Maybe just because his terse upfront personality and somehow despite his clothes horse habits THIS amount of whimsy seems the most out of character at first glance, but he DOES look uncomfortable to me.

Somehow I find everything about this outfit excellent for his character but also like maybe he was forced into it, everyone cornering him and telling him the Scion Beach Party was a mandatory work event and he was not allowed to beg off of it and he did put some work in expressing himself but also is going to go find a much quieter corner to lurk in for the day, when not competing with Thancred (can't grill, loves it) for the barbeque (Estinien can grill, would only do it because the threat of Thancred doing it wrong is too high).

confused 7/10 mostly because I think Krile is blackmailing him and not because I don't love everything about this.

Here's how G'reenha Tia can still win -

Anyway here's the deducted point for tanking in flip flops (PERFECTLY acceptable BLM gear btw but he's Mr Versatile.)

(I joke but the main character of my novels is a flip-flop wearing menace who could and would tank in them)

Between the padlock and key necklace and the woven bracelet right after we all went feral over the Thavnarian bracelets for couples thing so recently (and Corvos is just across the water!) he's absolutely dripping cutie pie love interest coding yet again.

(Also yes I know the lock and key thing is very funny because we were introduced to him learning he was a fancy key to a big door.)

Gains a point back because the other green g'raha thing is I'm pretty sure people use this shirt glam because it kinda looks like it has weed on it.

Don't quote me on that, vibes only.

Anyway he came colour coordinated (with his original eye colour and hair colour not the bright Allagan dalamud red dye that goes with his normal outfit) so so precise and neat, like he's going to some sort of formal event, and even with flip flops he really does seem incredibly put together like the twins or Y'shtola, just for full outfit cohesiveness.

As someone who would hold G'raha's hand on the romantic gondola vibe, 10/10.

3 out of 10 and a huge cringe if you would not. He's got to stop Striving.

Hey it's the star of the show!! Adorable hairstyle out, cute plot-important earring on, and wearing her exact character colours but adorable beach wear :)

I love that she looks kind of like she went to the girls for advice and got the top from Y'shtola and the shorts from Alisaie, and she probably was very serious and stressed about getting this right even though there's no rules and no one's judging her -

oops.

Anyway the ballet shoes are adorable and go with all the cute picto spins and twirls :)

I think the strict colour scheme does speak to the slight lack of fleshing out she got so far in the story (we don't really have any real character reason that picto in particular spoke to her and this glam isn't one of the many fun takes people had on how to dress to meet that brief ). I don't think DT did more than just repeat that she's serious and sweet and trying really hard to get out of her shell and be more fun and creative and also she's been practicing dodging really hard she shouts mid-Trust combat (bless her). But ALSO getting out of the shell is really hard and she only found out everything and got some closure in the final level 100 quests so there wasn't really much to do with her after that.

This is like her First Non-Plot-Critical Whimsy Moment and losing the hood or any cat ears entirely (and there are perfectly functional cat ears to wear in game) is a good step considering we know she wears it precisely because she needed a sort of advance PR campaign to make her look cute and approachable before she opened her mouth and started bringing down the vibe (serious scary children are SO funny though and i love that for her). Having the same top as Y'shtola is a good thing for trying to make her less childish and have her trying to show that now as she takes this huge step out from the background. I mean, it still has a slight sense of her costuming herself and pushing herself out of comfort zones as she always does, but it's 100% in character so I adore it.

1000/10 because Krile is great and there's so much going on here and it's so fun when a character's whole personality is a costume and then they're like aurgh wait do I even want that??

#ffxiv #dawntrail spoilers #I love these goobers #enough to level all the jobs through Trust rather than more varied and faster means :')

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sematarygirls · 2 months ago

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FUGITIVE!RAFE x MOTELWORKER!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ fem!reader, unprotected p in v, choking, exhibitionism if you squint, murder, reader hates the cops, fucking a wanted criminal on a desk pretty much, seedy motel, passing mention of prostitution, drugs, and other illegal activities

NOTES .ᐟ when you're in an idgaf war and your opponent is motelworker!reader... my girl has seen shit, okay.

Sweat glistened on your exposed skin, a fitted top and pair of shorts barely covering your figure as you sat in the front office of your dad's motel. The heat was unbearable, and the humidity practically suffocating, causing your hair to stick to your forehead and your clothes to uncomfortably cling to you.

Leaning back in the office chair with your bare feet propped up on the desk—a fresh layer of nail polish drying on your toes—and a magazine in your hands, you sighed loudly, flipping to the next page. A bored expression was seemingly permanently etched into your features, purely disinterested in anything. Someone could come in and rob you with a gun to your head, and you'd barely blink.

The small square television in the corner was playing some sitcom at a low volume, the sounds of a couple fucking in a room a few doors down drowning out whatever stupid, corny jokes were being told under an ear piercing laugh track

The little motel, named Paradise Inn like this was some sort of really bad porno, was out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The nearest building was a gas station a mile or so up the road, and the sheriff's department which was about five miles in the opposite direction.

The secluded nature meant that you were always encountering the oddest people. You were sure half of them were serial killers and the other half prostitutes, if you had to guess, but you didn't actually care. Whatever the reason they came in to pay for a dirt cheap hotel room with no questions asked was their own business, and you genuinely couldn't care less.

The little bell above the door chimed, indicating that someone had entered, but you didn't even look up from your magazine, your eyes scanning some Hollywood drama about people you'd never even heard of. Footsteps thudded on the dirty linoleum floor, stopping right in front of you. When you still didn't look up, the man cleared his throat impatiently, clearly irritated and not in the mood for games.

"I'll be right with you," you hummed with disinterest, despite the fact that you were clearly not doing anything even remotely important. You just liked fucking with people, and you didn't like these kinds of people thinking they could walk over you, especially the occasional creepy old fucks that you encountered.

Rafe's jaw clenched at your blatant dismissal of him, the room falling silent—save for the TV and lewd acts echoing off the walls—for a moment as he fidgeted impatiently. "Customer service here is real nice," he said sarcastically, planting his palms on the desk and leaning forward.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the desk before settling back in the chair and looking him over. He was hotter than the usual patrons that frequented this establishment, his biceps glittering as the thin sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light.

"You want a room or not?" You asked, eyes boring into his sharp blue ones. He clearly thought his intimidating presence alone was enough to get you to bend to his every whim, but you'd dealt with guys like him, and worse, since you were like five years old. The whole macho routine was not new to you, and frankly, you were tired of it.

"Obviously," he said, his tone clipped with annoyance. "What the fuck else would I be here for? Your lovely personality?" His gaze raked over you, taking in the sight of your glistening skin, the thin fabric of your shirt that left little to the imagination—he was pretty sure you werent even wearing a bra underneath, and your bare legs on the desk, crossed at the ankle.

"How charming," you deadpanned, his attitude not phasing you in the slightest as you leaned back and retrieved a key dangling from one of the hooks behind you. "You paying by the hour or..." Your gaze flickered back to him, the question lingering in the air. He didn't look like the type that needed to pay for sex, but maybe his delightful personality drove most women away.

"By the night," he replied curtly, looking like he wanted to say something else but decided against it. He dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a wad of cash. He peeled off some bills and tossed them onto the desk haphazardly. "Keep the change."

"Whatever, dude," you shrugged, pulling your legs off the desk to sit up properly and grab his money. In the process, something on the TV caught your eye, a breaking news report about a cop killer that was spotted a few towns over.

Rafe followed your gaze, his jaw clenching as he saw his picture flashed onto the screen. His mind started to run through every possible option. He couldn't let you call the cops and report him, but did he really want another body under his belt.

"Huh," you said, your brows furrowing as you looked between him and the man in front of you. "That guy kinda looks like you," you hummed before shrugging, brushing it off without a care in the world. You didn't care whether he killed a cop or the president. As long as he ran off to his room and left you alone, you wouldn't have a problem. "Anyway, here's your key," you tossed it onto the desk, getting up to put the money in the safe.

His brows furrowed, expression guarded as he glared at your figure. Were you playing dumb until he left, so you could call the cops, or were you genuinely an idiot? He watched you bend down, his gaze immediately falling to the way your shorts pulled up and revealed the underside of your ass to him—a fact you were either unaware of or indifferent to.

You punched in the code and put the money inside before closing it. You were surprised, and a little annoyed, to see him still standing there when you stood back up and turned around. "Did you need something else?" You asked, your tone indicating that you were clearly uninterested in helping him with anything else he may need.

He hesitated, staring intently at you for a long pause, as if he was trying to read you. Ultimately, he decided you were more trouble than you were worth, so he just turned on his heels and walked away without giving you an answer.

"I hate this fucking job," you muttered under your breath, plopping back down in the office chair and grabbing your magazine while you attempted to get comfortable for another five long hours until your dad came back and took over.

It wasn't but an hour later that the bell above the door chimed again, making you audibly groan. Could you not have a moment of peace? You look up from your spot, rolling your eyes when the sheriff walked in with his hoity toity, high and mighty attitude.

"Sheriff," you greeted flatly, watching him approach the desk with his thumbs hooked in his belt. He looked like an idiot.

He said your name in a low drawl, the two of you having become quite familiar. It was quite often that you ran into the sheriff and his deputies, considering the kind of no questions asked establishment your father was running here. "You seen the news lately?"

"Does it look like I watch the news?" You asked, your gaze unwavering and your voice dripping with apathy. Obviously, you had seen the news, but you weren't about to give a cop what he wanted, especially not when that cop was Sheriff Swanson—the biggest pain in your ass since your father.

Sheriff Swanson's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. He didn't like your attitude, he never had, but he knew better than to push his luck with you because you sat around all day, bored out of your mind. He knew you'd jump at the chance to pick a fight with anyone, especially him. Instead, he pulled out a photo from his pocket and slapped it down on the desk. "Recognize this guy?"

You hummed, glancing down at the photo briefly. It was the same guy from the news that was now residing in room 212. "Nah, never seen that man before in my life," you shrugged, completely disinterested. You weren't a snitch, and besides, your dad would have a conniption if he found out you went talking to the cops about one of the customers because it would 'ruin your reputation' as if the reputation of this place wasn't in the shitter already.

He searched your face, trying to detect any hint of a lie, but your expression was utterly blank, bored even. With a frustrated sigh, he snatched the photo back. "You sure about that? 'Cause I got a tip that he checked in not too long ago."

You laughed mockingly. "And you believe anything anyone here says? They'd frame their mamas for a packet of smokes and crumpled dollar bill," you scoffed, wondering who would have possibly called the cops. Half the people here were engaging in illegal activities, risking a police raid was a stupid fucking move.

"Well, if he does show up, you call me. Understand?" Sheriff Swanson ordered, stabbing a finger at you. He was clearly annoyed. Most of the people in this town bent to his will like he walked on water or something but not you or your dad. You two were considered outsiders because of your nonchalant attitude and seedy business dealings.

"Oh, so I'm doing your job for you now, Swanson?" You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You want me to put on a little shiny gold star and citizen's arrest him?" That stupid fucking gold badge really pissed you off for some reason. What did he think this was? An old western film? It was time to retire the glorified cowboy hat and supervillain mustache. It wasn't cool ten years ago when he became sheriff, and it's not cool now.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," he growled, his voice low and threatening. "This ain't no joke. That man's dangerous."

"Oh my gosh, a bad guy... whatever will I do?" You deadpanned, kicking your feet back up and grabbing your magazine, already bored with the conversation. You were hoping he would tire of your oh-so-witty and charming banter and just leave, so you could go back to dying of heat stroke and boredom without his grating voice in your ear.

"I swear to god, girl," he growled, slamming his hands down on the desk to scare you, but you didn't even flinch. You just turned the page of your magazine calmly. "You're as infuriating as your old man." He glared at you, clearly wanting to reach across the desk and throttle you.

"Unless you got a warrant, you can go," you said impassively, your eyes scanning the fashion page and debating whether you could pull that skirt off or not, clearly expecting the sheriff to see himself out.

Sheriff Swanson clenched his fists, glaring at you for a long moment. It infuriated him how dismissive you always were, but there was nothing he could do about it since freedom of speech meant you weren't technically breaking the law. "This ain't over," he spat before turning on his heel and stalking out, the bell chiming angrily as he shoved the door open.

"Uh huh," you hummed as he slammed the door behind him aggressively. "Men," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You hoped that no one else would bother you, but you could only be so lucky. Unfortunately, you seemed to be very popular today, and the heat was making you bitchier than usual—not that you were that much less bitchy on a normal day.

Not fifteen minutes later, the man from the news walked back into the office, and you were sure that you were going to be on the news next if people didn't stop waltzing in here and demanding your attention. It wasn't like you were doing anything that particularly interested you. You just hated drama, and that was all the people of this town ever seemed to bring here.

"Whatever you want, I don't have it," you said the moment the door flung open. Your father told you to work the desk, so that's what you intended to do. Catering to the sleazy whims of all the customers that came in was not your job description.

"Why didn't you rat me out to the cops?" He asked, cutting right to this chase, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you shift a little in your seat. He ignored your attitude, and seemingly, the remarks you made earlier, now just curious.

You shrugged nonchalantly, placing the magazine down for what seemed to be the millionth time in the span of an hour. "Because I couldn't care less about you or whatever you did."

"You should," he said menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping forward, clearly trying to scare you. Your eyes caught the movement of his biceps flexing before flicking back up to his face.

"Oh, please, spare me," you rolled your eyes, not the least bit intimidated by him.

"I killed someone," he tried to get you to see the gravity of the situation. He didn't like that you weren't afraid, that you didn't seem to care at all. "And you're sitting here acting like this is a fucking game?"

"I killed a man once," you said sincerely, watching his brows shoot up in surprise. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you," you snorted, cracking a smile for the first time since he'd met you, not that he'd known you all that long.

"Funny," he replied dryly, taking another step closer. His tall frame loomed over you, and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

"Whatever," you breathed out, clearly finding yourself hilarious, even if he didn't. "Listen, I'm not gonna tell Sheriff Shithead or anyone else that you're here," you reassured him, still having hope that maybe he would fuck off and leave you alone. "Now, go find someone else to bother," you waved him off, standing from your seat and walking over to the vending machine in the corner.

You were unbelievably hot, the sweat coating your skin making you uncomfortable and sticky, which wasn't helping. You also couldn't deny that your temperature had gone up significantly when the man—whose name was Rafe, if you recalled correctly from the news report—walked in. Just because you didn't want anything to do with the trouble Rafe clearly left in his wake, didn't mean you were blind.

"You're not gonna ask why I killed her?" He asked curiously, following you over to the vending machine. If a murderer had shown up on his doorstep, he'd be a little more inclined to ask what happened. He watched you intently as you pressed the button for a cold soda, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. He had to admit, you were hot as hell, even if you were insufferably annoying.

"How many times do I have to say 'I don't care' before people really start to get the message?" You huffed, stepping back and waiting for the soda to fall, but it never did. "Goddamn machine," you cursed, balling your hand into a fist and hitting the front of the machine hard. Almost instantly, the clanging of aluminum on metal rung out. "Aha," you rejoiced triumphantly, bending down to grab the can from the tray.

He watched as you grabbed the soda, then watched as you brought it to your lips and tilted your head back. His eyes dropped to your exposed neck, admiring the long column of your throat as you swallowed. This whole murderer thing had really taken its toll, and he hadn't got any in what felt like weeks, which felt like an eternity for someone like Rafe who loved sex.

You pulled the can away, looking over at him with furrowed brows as your tongue darted out to lick your lips. "You're really just gonna loom over me like a fucking weirdo while I work?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'd hardly call sitting around and reading magazines all day 'working'," he scoffed, crossing his arms again. It's like he wanted to draw attention to his biceps, and damn, it was working.

"Fine, you really gonna loom over me like a fucking weirdo while I don't work?" You corrected, mirroring his actions and crossing your arms, the can dangling from your fingertips as you shot him a look.

"I'm not looming," he said defensively, taking a step back as if to prove that he wasn't. "I'm just standing here, talking to you. Why, is it bothering you?" He smirked mischievously, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes. You seemed to do that a lot, ever exasperated by every word that left everyone else's mouths.

"Yes, actually, it is," you said flatly, sitting on the edge of the desk and setting the half-consumed soda beside you. You stared at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze as you once again, crossed your arms. If he was gonna taunt you with his biceps and smart ass comments, you were gonna taunt him with your tits. Two could definitely play it that game.

His eyes immediately dropped to your chest, his gaze lingering on the way your arms pressed your boobs together, accentuating them. Your lack of a bra definitely wasn't helping, your nipples straining against the thin fabric. Damn, he loved a good pair of tits, and even through your shirt, he could tell you definitely had some of the best he'd ever seen.

"My eyes are up here, Rafe," you snapped, drawing his attention back to your face. He was a bit taken aback by you saying his name, seeing as he hadn't provided it to you, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't sound fucking hot coming from those pretty lips of yours.

"I know where your eyes are," he smirked, not looking the least bit ashamed as his gaze slowly dragged back up to your face, pausing at your lips before meeting your eyes.

"Perving on the girl who can send you to a federal penitentiary with one phone call isn't a wise move," you tsked, planting your palms on the desk behind you and leaning back casually, eyeing him. You didn't mind his eyes on you. In fact, you kind of liked it, but you liked being a pain in the ass more.

"And what're you gonna do, hmm?" He asked, taking a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. He could practically feel the heat radiating from your body as he loomed over you. "Turn me in?" He scoffed, his smirk never wavering.

"You seemed pretty worried about it earlier," you pointed out, tilting your head to look up at him with a confident grin. You had a no getting involved rule, but you were quite literally hot and bothered right now, so maybe you could make an exception just this once.

"Well, that was before you made it clear that you 'don't care' as you so enthusiastically put it" he said, his voice dropping to a lower octave as he reached out, his fingertips trailing along your collarbone. "You're not gonna tell on me, are you, sweetheart?" He asked mockingly, knowing full well that you wouldn't, especially not after what he was about to do to you.

"Maybe I will," you said lowly, looking up at him with a challenging glint in your eye. "What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

He leaned down, his breath ghosting over your lips as he spoke. "I'm gonna shut you up," he said, his hand reaching up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your eyes widen. You looked up at him, still no trace of fear in your eyes as your lips parted at the feeling.

He leaned in, his mouth crashing against yours in a rough, needy kiss, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. He kissed you like he was starving, like he'd been deprived of oxygen, and he needed you more than he needed his next breath.

His other hand gripped your thigh tightly, pulling you to the edge of the desk, so he could press himself against you. You moaned into the kiss, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth and him manhandling you enough to make your head spin.

He swallowed your moan, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth. The hand on your thigh slid upwards, his rough fingertips digging into your soft flesh. He was so hard it almost hurt, his cock straining against the denim as he ground against you.

"You should lock the door," you mumbled into his mouth, a little annoyed that his hair was buzzed, so you could run your fingers through it.

"Who cares?" He growled back, his teeth sinking into your neck as his hand slid up higher, brushing the hem of your little shorts. "You're letting a wanted fugitive fuck you. I'd be willing to bet you like the risk."

You let out a breathy moan, your head tilting to the side to allow him better access as your nails raked gently along his scalp. "Asshole," you muttered, not appreciating his rude, but accurate, assessment of you.

"Mhm," he hummed against your neck, his hand sliding higher to hook into the waistband of your shorts. "You like that, though, don't you?" You didn't reply, instead, shifting to help him slide off your shorts and underwear. You weren't really interested in small talk right now.

He groaned at your eagerness, his hand leaving you momentarily to quickly undo his belt and free himself from the confines of his jeans. If you didn't want to waste time with foreplay, he sure as hell wasn't going to fight you on that. After all, he was kind of on borrowed time. He didn't know how long it would be before the cops came back here looking for him.

He grabbed your thighs again, roughly spreading your legs apart and positioning himself between them. With one swift motion, he buried his hard length inside you, a loud groan escaping you as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate the intrusion. You let out a sound between a gasp and a moan, your hand gripping his big bicep for purchase as he thrust into you at a dizzying pace.

He set a brutal rhythm, pounding into you with no care for gentleness. He was too far gone, too desperate for the feeling of being inside you. His hand came up to wrap around your throat again, using it as leverage as he drove his hips forward, causing a needy whine to force it's way past your lips. The burn from him stretching your tight walls coupled with the pleasure of him fucking and choking you had you practically on cloud nine.

"Shit, look at you. This sweet little pussy was made for my dick," he groaned, seeing the look of pure ecstacy on your face as your walls seemed to pull him in with each thrust.

His own face was scrunched up in concentration, his jaw clenched as he fought to hold back. He wanted this to last. He wanted to brand himself into your memory so you'd think of him every time you sat in this office, every time you laid down to sleep, every time you touched yourself in the shower. He wanted you to remember how you let a murderer defile you.

You were a mess of moans and whines as his tip repeatedly hit your g-spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with each thrust. Sure, you'd been fucked before, but never like this, never with a guy that could probably put you in a headlock and choke you out—and you'd probably like it. He was good, and he knew it.

He smirked arrogantly, his hand around your throat tightening slightly. "I'm gonna fill this needy little pussy so full, gonna make you remember that you're a dirty fucking girl for letting me do this to you," he said lowly, his words holding a vaguely threatening edge, but you didn't care. They only served to turn you on more, pushing you closer to your peak as his thumb slid down to play with your sensitive clit.

He could tell you were close, your breath hitching every time he bottomed out inside of you. He groaned as his movements grew jerky, his own finish nearing. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel this greedy cunt squeeze my cock."

"Shit, Rafe," you moaned, your nails digging painfully into his bicep as your walls clamped down around him, your release washing over you. The feeling of your walls bearing down around him triggered his own orgasm, hitting him like a freight train. His vision practically blurred as he emptied himself deep inside of you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He held you in place, his hand around your throat, as he rode out his climax, painting your insides with his cum.

"Fuck," you panted, your head tilting back and eyes fluttering closed as you caught your breath. Maybe this job had a certain... charm. Though, it was only just now occurring to you that you let this man cum inside you, and he didn't even know your name.

He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, his softening cock twitching with the aftershocks. Then, with a grunt, he pulled out and tucked himself away without another word, not that you expected much from a guy who was so eager to give you a quick fuck on a desk where anyone could have found you.

You hopped off the desk, retrieving your underwear and shorts to slip them back on, trying to ignore the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. You definitely needed a long shower and maybe a moment of silent reflection after what you just did.

He watched you dress with a critical eye, his gaze lingering on your body, as if committing it to memory. "Guess I should be going before the cops decide to come knocking again," he said casually, as if he hadn't just fucked you senseless.

"Guess so," you said, your seemingly apathetic attitude returning as you crossed your arms and regarded him with that same uninterested look that you'd given him when he first walked in here. You knew what you were getting into. You weren't an idiot. He was still on the run from the cops, and you were still just a motel worker in bumfuck nowhere.

He gave you a nod, his expression unreadable as he turned and strode to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "You didn't tell me your name," he commented, his voice low. He wasn't sure why he cared. The chances of seeing you again were abysmal, but he was curious.

"No, I didn't," you said flatly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, threatening to betray your nonchalant demeanor.

He studied your face for a moment, trying to decide if he should press the issue or just leave. Something about you, about this moment felt... important. He couldn't quite place the odd but distinctive feeling, but still, he found himself saying, "Next time you see me, I expect you to tell me your name."

You raised an eyebrow at his presumptuous words. You hardly expected to see him again, given the whole fugitive thing, but you decided to humor him. "If I see you again, I will."

He nodded, seeming to accept your response, before turning and leaving without another word, the door shutting a little harsher than he intended behind him. As he walked to the car he'd stolen to keep the cops off his ass, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter, this girl, meant something more than just a quick fuck in the office of a seedy motel.

tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

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lovecla · 2 months ago

Text

EAT YOU LIKE A PREY ; luke hughes.

nhl masterlist, nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, single chapter:

— pair: luke hughes x fmc (mila)

— synopsis: after finding out that her friend, the shy, cute luke hughes has a crush on her, mila decides that she will do anything to make him confess his feelings for her out loud. but what do people say about biting more than you can chew?

— word count: 4.3k

— chapter warnings: lowkey mean softdom!luke, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, size kink and degradation if you dig deep, p in v, fingering, squirting (not super detailed tho), edging, pet names, drinking (just a shot but,) dacryphilia.

from me to you: happy halloween, my loves 🤍 i have a few things to say today so buckle up. 1st of all, thank u so much for 400 followers and 10k likes! this means so much to me, and it’s not about the numbers but about people liking what i write— something that not even i do sometimes. 2nd, thank u all for all the compliments on my smut writing heheh i’m really trying to improve my skills so whenever u guys compliment me i’m like ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა so thank u again. 3rd and last, this is just a single chapter but TM(HTMHC) chapter 5 is already in the making 🤍 this is a lot different from what i’m used to write but i hope it’s still good? lmk what u think 🐰

𖧷

LUKE HUGHES was the sweetest, most adorable guy you have ever met.

Falling for him wasn’t anything out of this world, you were just another person to fall in love with his wholesome personality, and even though you had certain advantages over the other girls— because you knew him personally— you never really did anything.

When Jack told you that Luke had a crush on you— yesterday, literally—, the first thought that came to your mind was: “How?”

He always acted sweet and shy around you, besides treating you with utmost respect and affection. He takes care of you whenever you need, he knows your favorite drinks and your favorite TV shows, knows that when you’re bored you like to watch Disney Channel’s cringe ass shows just to laugh at the actors’ lines.

So him, having a crush on you, wasn’t at all that much of a surprise.

The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it, though? Yeah. That was a big, unexpected surprise.

Now it was Thursday, and while you got ready in your room, and waited for your best friend, Suzy, to pick you up, you thought of ways of making Luke want to confess to you.

You wouldn’t be the one doing it first, no. You had too much pride for that, and with every reason. You were gorgeous, you didn’t need anyone to tell you that. You could say that you’re too much of a princess and you don’t like to run after boys, but in reality, it was just that all of the men you had relations with were just a bunch of assholes.

They wanted you to be the first to make a move, they wanted you to decide where you would have dinner, or what movie you would watch. And that just doesn’t work for you, at least not anymore. You want them to work for getting you, not the other way around.

But with Luke, things were different. You can’t just know that Luke Hughes has a crush on you and not do anything. So you would have to be smart, and make him want to tell you how he feels, without asking him to.

Is this some way of gaslighting?, you ask yourself, applying some more blush to your face, I don’t know. But it has to be done, I guess.

Suzy didn’t take long to get to your house, and you got inside her car, complementing her Snow White costume. Now, you’re even more glad that you spent hours trying to choose the perfect costume for Mercer’s party. Usually, you’d go for something that showed less skin and was more scary than slutty, but something told you that this year you needed a change; and if that change was shortening your skirt and wearing a corset that squeeze your tits and push them up higher, then so be it.

𖧷

“SOMEONE SHOULD’VE told me that Dawson was planning on throwing his Halloween party at a fucking haunted mansion.”

You laugh, getting out of the car and feeling the cold breeze hit your skin, the sight of the tall, dark house in front of you making you shiver.

The party was happening inside a huge mansion that looks like it had been abandoned for years even though you know it’s all just play pretend. The front of it is highly decorated with skeletons, coffins, trash and signs that read:

“YOUR FINAL STOP,” and “WELCOME TO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.”

You thought it was all super funny, while Suzy whined beside you, and held your arm like her life depended on it. Entering the house after showing your ID and giving your name to the security guard at the front door, you saw that the interior is just as decorated as the outside, if not more.

“How much do you think Dawson spent on this?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Suzy started rambling about how he probably spent a lot of money and how there were thousands of people inside the mansion and how you were never going to find Jack or Nico or anyone for that matter because everyone were wearing costumes and makeup and—

“It’ll be fine,” you cut her off, shouting over the loud music. “I mean, are there hundreds of people here? Yes. Will we be able to find them? Very unlikely. But it’s fine, right?”

“I guess?” She cocks her head, her curls going everywhere. “Can we grab something to drink, though? You know I need my daily dose of beer…”

“You’re crazy. But yeah, we can.”

Moving through the sea of bodies, you greeted so many people that your head was starting to get tired. You didn’t even know all of them properly, but since Jack, Quinn and Luke knew so many people, and you were always with them, people said “hi” to you anyway.

Finding the drink section had been like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert, and while Suzy grabbed a can of beer, you had a shot of vodka before grabbing a non-alcoholic drink, wanting to be very aware of your actions through the night.

You got back to walking, listening to Suzy’s long complaints about how much time you spent talking with people she didn’t know and how she wanted to dance.

“Fuck, Mila, this is Drake!” She shouts, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the side, where a bunch of people were dancing.

“I was talking to Elliot, you know,” you shout, laughing.

“I don’t care, baby, this fucking song makes me want to go crazy and make out with you!” Suzy throws her arms up, jumping.

“Baby, that’s the alcohol speaking.” You smile, giving up and moving with the beat.

You need to get done, done, done, done at work, come over

We just need to slow the motion

Don't give that away to no one

Long distance, I need you

You danced with Suzy, not letting your mind think of Luke or anything else. Moving your hips was way easier when you didn’t have to worry about anything.

When I see potential I just gotta see it through

If you had a twin, I would still choose you

I don't wanna rush into it, if it's too soon

But I know you need to get done, done, done, done

Suzy’s hands caressed your body, as she goes to the floor, making you smile as she runs her hands through your bare legs, mouthing the lyrics to the song, singing Drake’s verse with a flirty tone. She got up and you turned around, laughing as you grind your ass on her, placing your hands on your knees and moving your hips while she held your waist, playfully.

I spilled all my emotions tonight, I'm sorry

Rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'

How many more shots until you're rollin'?

While you danced, and while Suzy sang to you and hugged you tight, you felt a weird sensation in your chest. You were constantly getting goosebumps, and the left side of your neck burned. But no matter how much you looked around, you couldn’t find anything weird.

You knew so many people there, you could see Nico, Cole, Matt; and yeah, some of the guys were watching you and Suzy dance but that’s just normal, expected behavior from men.

Until you saw him.

There, standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and holding a typical American red cup, wearing a full black outfit and.

Was that a ghostface mask?

You couldn’t be sure of who was behind the mask, but for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off him— and it looked like neither could he. While you ground on Suzy and danced with her, you made eye contact with the mask, feeling the hair on your arm going up; the hotness that before only covered the left side of your neck, was now running down your body, making you feel warm all over.

Which is weird, so weird.

Suddenly, the lights are off, and now everyone’s screaming with excitement and exhilaration, making you jump slightly, trying to find Suzy’s body. Once you do, you shout at her— or at least at what you hope is her ear.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” She yells back, and you can tell that she’s having a lot of fun for someone who was just complaining about how scary the house looked. “This is so fun!”

“It is, yeah,” you reply, as they turn the lights back on, the music somehow louder and the people even more animated.

“We need to dance more and then,” she gets closer, biting her lips. “I’ll find someone to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

You laughed before moving your body with the next song again, dancing for what felt like hours, but not as thoughtless as you were before, no. Now all you could think of was the man that stood in the corner of the room and that now wasn’t there anymore, vanished as soon as the lights were on again.

Even if you had already looked around the entire room and you were one hundred percent sure that that man wasn’t there anymore, you could feel his presence around you, making your skin crawl with need.

I’m fucked up. Probably.

𖧷

YOU DON’T know where Suzy is.

Sometime between dancing and drinking, she found someone and disappeared like she had never been here in the first place.

You were tired, and you wanted to go back home, but, unfortunately, Suzy was your ride, so you’d have to wait until she’s done to go back to your apartment.

Of course, you could always call a taxi, or even one of the people you knew, or maybe try to call Jack or even Luke—

Luke. You hadn’t thought about him since you arrived at the party, too worried about having fun to even think of doing anything else.

But he’s not here anyway, you find yourself pouting, standing in the middle of the huge, fancy bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror. At least I don’t think so.

But Jack had told you that he would be there, and Jack could be many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. So, Luke probably is here, just hiding in a corner, like he usually did, always the shy boy.

Corner. Man. Black outfit. Ghostface.

Right, you take a deep breath. I’ll try to find him. Maybe I’ll manage to kiss him before leaving.

The thought of kissing Luke motivated you to get past the ocean of people, looking for curly hair and thick thighs. It didn’t help that you didn’t know what he was wearing or who he was with, but you were determined.

You walked the entire first floor, feeling your legs burn with how many steps you had already taken, especially after wearing high heels for so many hours. Luke definitely wasn’t there, and you were starting to feel frustrated.

You went up the stairs, regretting almost immediately. Dawson didn’t just decorate the first floor and the outside of the mansion, but the second floor as well. And if you thought the first floor was bad, this was even worse.

It was empty, it looked worse than the fucking Haunted House at Disneyland, and it was creepy as fuck. You started walking down the hallway, looking around while wrapping your arms around your middle, listening to the muffled sounds from downstairs.

Why isn’t anyone up here?

You walk past closed doors, until you stop in front of the only open one. Curious, you get inside the room, finding out that it was some kind of office: a big, dark wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, with an expensive looking chair behind it, and tons of books decorating the bookshelves against the walls.

A couch decorated the corner, and so did a lamp and a coffee table. You were just about to leave and go back to the party when you saw it— there, laying on the couch, the mask from before.

You hold in a gasp, feeling the left side of your neck burning again.

He’s here, he’s here. He’s here and he knows I’m here too.

“Took you long enough, bunny.”

You let out a scream, turning around to face the same man from before, who was now standing right behind you.

“L-Luke,” breathing fast, you mumble his name. “God, you scared me.”

“Sorry. Not my intention.”

He walks inside the room, sitting beside the mask— his mask.

“It… it was you.” You whisper, eyeing his clothes. The exact same outfit the man who watched you dance with Suzy and made you feel hot all over was wearing.

“Me?” He cocks his head, like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

“You,” you nod. “Downstairs. When I was dancing with Suzy.”

He stays quiet, not saying anything to confirm nor deny.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been looking for you for a while now.” You ask, confused.

“You looked like you were having so much fun,” there’s some kind of sarcasm in his tone, but you can’t really tell why. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun, that’s all.”

Usually, you’d just play around and tell him something funny. But you remembered what Jack said, and you also remembered that you had a plan. Make Luke Hughes confess his feelings for you.

Smiling and walking further inside the bedroom, you start your plan.

“You know you could never ruin my fun,” you say. “I missed you.”

He smirks, spreading his thighs on the couch.

“Yeah?” You nod. “I missed you too. You look cute with your little bunny outfit.”

You give him a little twirl, placing your hands on your hips. “D’you like it? I also think it looks great.”

He hums, before getting up, standing in front of you, his 6’2” figure making you feel small, even though you were 5’4” yourself.

“Why were you looking for me, Mila?”

His tone is so different from what you’re used to. He doesn’t sound sweet and adorable anymore, and for some reason, it has you intrigued. His eyes, looking darker with so little lighting in the room, staring down at you.

“I just wanted to see you. ‘Been a while, no?” Sweetening your voice to the max, you blink twice. “Perhaps we could, I don’t know, have some fun?”

His smile only widens at that, and just when you thought you were about to get what you want, his next words make you freeze.

“Do you think I’m dumb?”

You frown at his words, gulping.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper.

“Bunny, bunny,” he clicks his tongue, stepping closer to you. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I’m not doing anything—”

“I know Jack talked to you,” he whispers. “He isn’t exactly subtle. And I’ve seen you with boys before. You use those pretty, sweet eyes to make them fall for you, do whatever you want, beg for just a little bite. Am I wrong?”

You bite your lips, holding the hem of your skirt, looking for some kind of support. Luke’s breathy voice makes all of your tiredness leave your body.

“I asked you a question, cutie.”

“No,” you whisper. “You’re not wrong, Luke.”

The smile he gives you is brighter than the moon shining in the sky.

“I know I’m not, baby,” he gets closer, placing his large hand on your waist, on top of your corset. “So, if you want to have some fun with me,” he continues, using the same words you used not even five minutes ago. “It will have to be the way I want it to be, right?”

You nod with your head, scared that he would find out your underwear is slowly getting wetter and wetter.

He gives you a forehead kiss before stepping back, walking towards the door, letting you wonder if he was just being silly and was in fact leaving the room. Which he doesn’t, just closes the door and walks back at you, eyeing you like a wolf would look at a bunny.

Luke kissed you as if he was hungry, thirsty for something he could only get if he stuck your lips together. His hands, warm and large, encircled your waist and pushed you until your back hit the large bookshelf that decorated the wall of the office.

“Fuck,” Luke moans against your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

You wanted to tell him that you had too, but you didn’t even have time; Luke kissed you again, making you stand on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, messing up the curls that decorated his head.

His mouth moved against yours, his lips sweet and soft, different from the way he kissed you: bruising and desperate, holding you so close that you feared, for a second, that the two of you would become one.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he warns, his green eyes, now a darker shade, looking into yours and showing all the impure thoughts he was having. “I’m gonna fuck you hard against that table, Mila, and I swear to God I won’t stop. So, if you don’t want that, tell me now and I’ll take you home.”

“No,” you say, desperately and shamefully wet. “I need you.”

“I know you do,” he says, his voice full of malice. His hands roam your body, touching only the top of your breasts, not lingering on them for more than a minute.

Then, Luke’s hands find the middle of your legs, and you close your eyes, embarrassed that he would now know how turned on you were.

You can hear Luke’s ragged breathing as he pulls the wet fabric of your panties up, making you moan as the fabric touches your clit, splitting your two outer labia.

“You’re so wet, bunny,” He murmurs against your skin, playing with the thin and—now—soaked fabric of your panties. “I bet I don’t even have to prep you before slamming my dick into you with how sloppy you probably are.”

You moan loudly, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Luke—”

Your speech is cut off when he shoves your panties to the side and thrusts two fingers inside you, thrusting them with urgency and need.

“I knew it,” he chuckles. “So. Fucking. Loose.”

You grip his arm, feeling wetter than you had ever felt in your life. Luke had always been sweet and loving, and you loved that face of his. But this? This is so much better.

Two of his fingers were moving in and out quickly, while his thumb was touching your clit quickly, making you see stars. The wet sounds filled the room and made you close your eyes in shame.

The weight of Luke's body on yours was comfortable and overwhelming at the same time, the height difference only making you feel even more like prey that had just been captured.

“Luke, fuck.”

“It’s a shame that a cute bunny like you has such a dirty mouth,” he makes a tsc sound with his tongue, not once stopping moving his fingers. “Did no one teach you manners?”

You shake your head, moaning loudly and forgetting that the door wasn’t locked, and that there was a party going on downstairs, with hundreds of people who at any moment could open the door and see the obscenity happening in front of them.

“I’m gonna come, Luke, please, I will—”

Tears immediately form in your eyes when Luke suddenly removes his fingers from inside you. “What? Why did you stop?” You sob.

“Because I wanted to.” He simply says, kissing your cheek, the sweetness of his act contrasting with the harshness of his words.

He comes closer again, running both hands behind your thighs, picking you up with ease. Then, he walks towards the table in the middle of the room, stopping in front of it and placing you on the floor gently.

He kisses you again, biting your lips right after.

“Turn around, cutie,” he smiles, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, making you sigh.

Luke is big. Like, bigger than any of the guys you’ve been with before, probably thicker too.

“What?” He smirks. “Did the little bunny bite off more than she can chew?”

Gulping, you shake your head. “Y-you’re… big.”

“Mhm,” he shamelessly grabs his cock, stroking the head a few times, spreading the precum all over his length, as you watch with awe, his hand size matching his dick. “Think you can take it?”

Even though your brain screamed for you to run and hide, the unstoppable throbbing between your legs was too hard to ignore.

“Yes, but… even if I can’t,” you tilt your head up, staring at his lustful eyes. “You’ll make me, right?”

“Smart, smart bunny.”

He kisses you again before turning your body around, placing your hands on the table and lifting your skirt. You can feel him removing your panties as he spreads your legs wide with his feet.

He runs his cock over your lips for a few seconds, the wet sounds echoing off the walls of the room, and when he finally enters, it’s like everything you’ve been searching for finally makes sense.

“Holy fuck, Mila,” he groans, resting his torso against your back.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling his entire length out of you and putting it back in, thrusting hard and precisely. Your hands grip the wood beneath your fingers tightly, and your eyes meet the back of your head.

You can feel the tears decorating your face, as Luke grips your waist with an incredible force and pushes his cock hard inside you, moaning loudly.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he says, and you bite your lips, holding back a loud moan. “You’re getting my dick so wet.”

“Luke.”

You didn’t care about anything anymore. All you wanted was to cum, and preferably on his fingers.

He seemed to have heard your thoughts, as it didn't take him long to support one of your legs on the table, entering even deeper inside you, hitting places no one had ever hit before. Then, moving his fingers over your engorged clit, he rubbed it mercilessly, your orgasm building faster, since he edged you not even ten minutes ago.

“Luke,” you sob, calling out his name. “I’m gonna come.”

“Are you going to make a mess?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Then hold it,” he says, as he applies even more pressure on your sensitive nub, slamming his dick deeper onto your g-spot.

“I can’t, I need to—”

“Baby, you’re not the one in charge here,” his voice is soft, gentle and calming— it didn't stop your tears, though. “If you’re not gonna make a mess, then why should I bother letting you come anyway?”

“Please, Luke, please,” you hiccup, feeling some pieces of the wood get under your nails with how hard you were scratching the table.

“Make a mess, Mila. That’s the only way you’re coming tonight.”

You’re dizzy. Your head is empty and you only need to let Luke ruin you, and everything you believe. When you finally reach your peak, you come, wetting his fingers, your thighs and the table, but none of that is enough for the curly haired boy behind you.

He keeps rubbing you, biting your neck, fucking you into pure oblivion, overwhelming you to the max. And when you feel himself pulling away, you shake your head, crying louder and clenching your hole around his dick.

He hisses. “Mila.”

“No,” you cry. “Inside— ah, please.”

“You’ll drive me insane,” he jokes, but there isn't a hint of playfulness in his tone. He keeps slamming inside you, until he finally comes, painting your insides white with his release.

It’s dirty, raw and human. It’s oddly comforting and overwhelming at the same time; it’s maddening.

People have been put in mental institutions for feeling much less than you right now.

“Mila.”

Luke’s voice is far, and as you rest your forehead against the cold wood of the table, you can feel him pulling away from you.

“Bunny?”

You feel his hand on your hair, and you can feel his presence everywhere. Wiping your cheeks, cleaning your thighs with his shirt, putting your underwear back on, pulling your skirt down. You can feel his warm, burning body behind you as he gets you up and rests your back against his toned abs, kissing your neck gently.

“Hey,” he whispers, and you can tell he’s trying so hard not to freak you out. “Mila, baby.”

“‘Gimme a minute,” you whisper, smelling his perfume, a mix of sandalwood and patchouli.

He lets out a quiet laugh, caressing your thigh with the same hands that held you so strongly not even five minutes ago.

“Do you want to sit?”

“I don’t think I can move my legs right now,” You chuckle, and he hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up again, walking you to the couch, laying down with you on top of him. “Feels nice.”

“I know,” he hums back. “Listen, I’m so—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” you ask, closing your eyes. “I wanted this.”

“I wasn’t going to apologize for fucking you,” he laughs, and you feel his chest moving under you. “I was going to apologize for not telling you sooner.”

“Telling me what?”

“That I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I guess I was just scared.”

Now he sounded like the boy you knew.

“Same. I like you too much to screw things up.” You confess, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

You snuggle closer to his body, ignoring the wet clothes and the fact that there was a party happening downstairs, and that Suzy was probably looking for you.

But it was fine. You could deal with her tomorrow.

𖧷

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