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diorchids · 7 months ago

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BACKYARD BARBECUE, SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY.

— dadsbestfriend!simon, age gap (r is 19-20), size kink, fingering, p in v, praise kink, choking, bruising, nipple sucking, nipple play, outdoor sex, tummy bulges.

you knew he was coming.

simon is your father's best friend, the two met while stationed. you’d met him enough times to call him an uncle, about a year ago, getting more and more comfortable with him as the months passed.

your skirt billowed in the slight wind, the sun shone as you spoke to family.

you heard your father chuckle before seeing simon, a few words being exchanged before he made his way over to you.

he’s taken a liking to you out of all your siblings, making this extremely obvious to you just by the way he treats you. he gets closer to you and immediately hugs you, taking in your smell and planting his large hand on your back.

“hey there, sweetheart. how’s my favorite girl doing?” his scruffy beard scratching your face as his hands moved further down, stopping before breaking the hug.

“hey, si,” you gave a smile, not breaking eye contact for even a second. to anyone, this would be flirting. but it’s not like that. you’re greeting a family friend, attending to your daughterly duties.

“look at you, kiddo, so grown up now.” he stood back and looked you up and down, eyeing your body perversely.

you two talked, having to practically yell because of the number of people speaking. he knew he had your attention, and he liked it.

“but,” he grinned, taking another step closer. his hand slid down your hip, fingers grazing against the bare skin of your thigh. "why don't we find a nice quiet spot to talk?" he whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck.

this wasn’t completely new for him. there was an incident before when you had to drive with him to the beach, your car was broken down, and your parents' car was full. you sat in the passenger seat in your bikini, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, a little desperate. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing the supple skin back and forth. you could’ve sworn he was inching closer to your inner thighs as he drove.

you waited for a second before answering, your head tilted before speaking, “‘kay.” a brief answer, no teasing this time.

simon leads you to a secluded corner of the backyard, away from the bustle of the barbecue. he sits on an old, wooden bench, patting his lap invitingly. "now then, love," he began, his voice low.

you sat promptly.

simon's large hands roamed your body, squeezing your thighs and tracing the curves of your waist. his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties.

he groaned grossly under his breath, not getting enough of your body. the way you’d melt under his touch, so disgustingly needy for contact, made him want to take you even more.

his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties. your clit was so puffy, you were just so ready for his cock. “i’ve been watchin’ you, you know,” his thick accent making your thighs burn.

simon's lips were inches from your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. he brought his other hand to your throat, squeezing before moving it toward your breasts. “i've always thought you were such a pretty little thing.” he whispered.

his hands pinched your nipples through your thin shirt, in turn making you grind down on his bulge. :(

“mmm, really?” your poor clit twitched under his finger. he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and nipping gently, “so grown up now… hm?” he purred. his hands traveled lower, pushing your skirt up around your hips. you had nothing to say, words failing to escape your lips.

both of his hands were circling your pulsing cunt by now, a finger finding you already wet with excitement. you whimpered as he pressed his finger against your entrance, rubbing teasingly. “you want this, don’t you, doll?” you nodded, “i do.”

without hesitation, simon pushed his fingers inside you, feeling your tight cunt grip him perfectly. he began to move them in and out slowly, picking up speed as he felt your wetness coat his knuckles. “so fucking tight.” he moaned.

you writhed underneath him, tears already starting to roll as your legs trembled. you babbled and shook as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you.

simon used another hand to pull your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. your back rubbed up against his chest before he pulled his fingers from your cunt, lifting and turning you so you were facing him.

he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while pushing his fingers back into your starving little cunt. your mascara ran down your face as you pouted and cried, senses becoming overwhelmed.

he sucked hard while continuing to finger you. “you’re gonna make such a pretty little slut.” he groaned against your skin. “mhm! f-feels so fuckin’ good, si. m’gonna cum.” stupidly nodding and biting your plump lip.

he chuckled darkly, his fingers pumping faster and harder inside your velvety walls. your cunt constricted around his knuckles as you cried out, legs quivering as the knot in your tummy threatened release.

salty tears rolled down your face before he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving a trail of your juices on his hand. his fat cock pushed up against his slacks, straining against it, emphasizing every curve in his bulge. you cried loudly, lips puffy and slick, clit twitching pathetically.

your fingers curved around his clothed cock, being pushed away before he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants down, pre-cum leaking through the fabric of his boxers. he pulls his waistband away from his hips, freeing his cock pressed up against his stomach.

he pulled his pants off as you stood and watched, salivating at the sight of his cock. you’d do anything for him, getting more and more greedy at the thought of him finally pushing his cock into you.

finally, he had you on your knees on the bench, facing away from him, cunt burning, waiting for his thick length. you waited, breaking the silence with a question, “you usually like college girls?”

it was an honest question, you were serious.

he rubbed the tip of his cock against your slick hole, teasing. “i like what i like,” he grinned. “and right now, i like you.” he pushed his cock into your tense cunt, causing you to dig your nails into his thigh.

simon thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside you up to the hilt. you felt his chest rising and falling against you as he groaned against your neck. how badly he wanted to bruise it up.

“take it,” he grunted, “take all of it.” his cock stretched your cunts walls, filling you up with his thickness. you felt a hand trail up to your throat, another gripping your hips tightly, guiding him in and out of your soaking hole.

he was rough with you, increasing the force with which he pounded into you. his hips snapped forward which each thrust, making your ass ripple. “s-si, can’t take it n’more! agh–cock s’fat, go slow, si, please, hurt s’bad!” he laughed at your attempts to stop him.

his grip on your neck tightened with each thrust, surely creating small bruises to deal with later. “fuckin’ delicious. takin’ me so well.” he said breathlessly, continuing to pound into you without mercy.

“s’too much… si, fuck!” he was hunched over, both of you a mess, hair stuck to his forehead, you, crying ‘cause of his fat dick!

“g-go deeper, deep–mmf!” you begged.

simon hissed, pulling out almost completely before slamming his huge cock back in with a force that made your poor tummy flip. he continued this pattern of deep thrusts, grunting loudly with each one as he dove his cock deeper into your wet hole.

he brought a hand to your clit, thick finger lousily rubbing and rolling it roughly between his thumb and forefinger. “m’gonna cum!” you pushed yourself onto his cock more, greedy for his length.

“cum–cum for me, love.” he urged, thrusting into you even harder. you gushed around his cock, thrashing while your cunt showed its appreciation, orgasm crashing over you, causing you to clench tightly around his cock. you moaned like an animal as he continued his abuse on your walls.

“fuck–like that,” simon grunted, groaning loudly as he felt his cock shudder violently inside of you. with one last thrust, he let go and came inside of you, filling you with his hot seed. it spilled out of you before simon sloppily thrust a few more times, making sure to fuck his cum deep into you, like there were no consequences.

he didn’t let go of you, still hunched over your body, small in comparison to him, tummy slightly bulged by his oversized cock. panting heavily, he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. his cock twitched inside of you, releasing a few more spurts of cum.

he helped you to your feet, smoothing your hair, drying your tears after wiping the cum from your inner thigh with his thumb, and sticking it in your mouth. you sucked his thumb hungrily, warm tongue making him softly groan.

he’d heard your father call for him from the grill while he buckled his pants, kissing you before walking back into the yard.

“good talk, sweetheart.”

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chohorny · 12 days ago

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“THE DOLL… ITS ALIVE!”

✦SUMMARY

╰┈➤ Your boyfriend, as clumsy as he is, foolishly wins you a doll at the county fair that will forever change your life. #KINKTOBER2024

"Take it," he growled. "Take, every, last, inch!" His hips slammed into yours with every pronounced word of his command. "Gonna pump this pussy full. Flood your womb with my seed."

✦ C.W

╰┈➤ dubcon/noncon, murder, character death(?), groping, trueform!sukuna, double penetration, plushie humping, mental illness, face riding, aphrodisiac, brief cum eating, slight voyeurism, degradation, praise, missionary, 7k+ words, yuuji is aged up to 20+years, slight yuuji x reader, hair yanking, is this cheating?, rough sex, unprotected sex

If you could travel back in time, to that fateful night when your fingers first brushed against its soft, cursed fabric, would you change a thing?

It was October 5th. The sky had bruised into twilight, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of roasted chestnuts, damp earth, and the faint trace of winter creeping in. Yuuji, your boyfriend of six years, had been excited about the fall fair, dragging you there with promises of funnel cakes and dizzying rides. His enthusiasm had been infectious, and despite the chill creeping into your bones, you’d followed him willingly, smiling even as the cold bite of evening settled into your skin.

You had just stumbled out of The Gravitron, disoriented from the spinning madness, your body instinctively finding its way into his as you tried to steady yourself. His arm slid around your waist, a familiar warmth, but somehow, your eyes managed to focus on one singular object.

It was a plushie, nestled amongst a sea of cheap carnival prizes. It was a humorous parody of Sukuna Ryomen, The King of Curses, reduced in the form of a rounded plushie. It was small and unassuming, its plump shape clothed by his robes. His beady red eyes gleamed under the booth lights.

The legend of Sukuna Ryomen was no light-hearted tale. He was a god of destruction, a bringer of chaos, feared and revered. Some said he could twist reality itself and turn the world inside out with a flick of his finger. But here he was, reduced to a toy, the weight of his name no more than the weight of stuffing inside its fat body.

It shouldn’t have been so easy to win it. But it was. Yuuji, smiling like a fool, had thrown the basketball without a care in the world. The booth attendant handed it over, his frown contrasting Yuuji's grin, beaming as he turned to press the plushie into your hands.

The second your fingers closed around it, the world shifted. The fair’s noise faded, the laughter of children, the creak of rides, the announcer’s barks, all muted as if the world tilted and you were thrown into another realm.

A chill crept down your spine, despite the comforting warmth of Yuuji beside you. His presence felt distant, as though the cold night air had placed a barrier between you. It wrapped around you, thick and suffocating, but no one else seemed to notice.

Yuuji glanced over, noticing your faltering smile and the goosebumps rising on your bare arms. You were wearing a sleeveless black dress, and the night had begun to cool. Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, its weight grounding you as if you were beginning to float.

"Come on, you need to eat something. It'll warm you up," he said, gently steering you toward the concession stand, the warm scent of fried food greeting you.

The smell of powdered sugar and warm dough made your stomach growl, and within a few minutes later, you both sat at a small, secluded table. You had forgotten you had pocketed the Sukuna plushie into your back pocket as you sunk into the worn bench. It gave a small dying breath.

Yuuji sat beside you, his smile softened. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah," you murmured, snuggling into him. "Tonight was amazing."

He chuckled, draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer, his body radiating warmth. "I’m glad," he said, resting his chin on the top of your head. "You’ve got quiet back there. Are you okay? Still cold?"

"Just a little," you admitted, tucking yourself tighter against him, your right ear against his throat, feeling the low rumble of his voice, warm from talking and the corndogs he’d eaten.

His thumb traced gentle circles on your arm. "Are you sure?" he asked softly. Then, cautiously, "is it... your mom?"

You hesitated, a brief flash of the sad woman crossing your mind, but you pushed it away. "No, it’s not that. I’m just tired." You forced a smile.

Yuji’s arm tightened slightly around you, his thumb pausing for a moment before resuming its soothing motion. He didn’t press further, his quiet concern clear in the way he held you. "Alright," he whispered, so softly you would have missed it if your ear wasn’t pressed to his throat. His chin came to rest against your head once more, and you both sat in comfortable silence, the world fading away around you.

A few minutes passed with you both looking at the distance before you both got up, preparing to return to the night. You felt self conscious as you might’ve ruined the end of the night with your own set of problems, but as you moved, a sharp pinch made you jump. It came from where the plushie you'd stashed in your back pocket. You laughed, swatting Yuji playfully.

"Yuji!" you accused, smacking him on the arm.

He recoiled, rubbing his arm. He was wide-eyed and bewildered, almost clueless as to why you had just hit him. "What? What did I do?" he pouted, rubbing his arm.

You rolled your eyes, realizing he may have been trying to lighten the mood. Appreciatively, you nestled closer to him as you both walked to the parking lot.

If you had looked closely, you might have noticed his hand still resting innocently at your waist, the other deep in his sweats, never having moved from its place since you stood.

October 6th

The next day, a low-grade fever crept over you. It wasn’t much, but it was still a fever.

You laid snuggled under the covers, an empty box of tissues on your nightstand and your Sukuna plush peeking out from behind its pile of crumpled tissues that marked your misery.

Minutes later, Yuuji entered the room, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. He’d already changed into his workout clothes, a gray tank top and black basketball shorts. His eyes quickly found you, curled up in bed, shivering slightly. He walked over and placed a hand on your forehead, wincing at the warmth. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“I don’t want to get in your way,” you replied, managing a weak smile. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got…” You groped around until your hand slipped beneath Yuuji’s butt to retrieve the badly treated plushie. “I've got Sukuna, King of Curses, to protect me.”

He sighed but smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Alright. Rest up. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “Love you.”

He paused, smiled over his shoulder, halfway out the door. “Love you, too, babe.”

And then he was gone.

The house fell silent except for the low murmur of the TV and the fading echo of Yuuji’s footsteps, followed by the creaking door. You were alone now, left to your thoughts.

You held the Sukuna plush above your face, playing absentmindedly with its four plump arms. It was strange. Sukuna was known to be the most evil man who lived, but he reminded you of Yuuji in a way. Well, in terms of looks, anyway.

You were drawed out of your thoughts when you heard a soft shuffling of slippers dragging across the wooden floor with a faint, sticky sound. Your mother entered, frail and unsteady, her eyes clouded, holding a bowl of steaming soup. “I made you something for your cold.”

You set the doll aside. “Mom, you really shouldn’t be cooking,” you said, gently taking the bowl from her trembling, bony hands and placing it on the nightstand.

Her brow furrowed, eyes darting nervously around the room. "Yuji said the same thing before he left, like I can’t take care of my own daughter. I’m your mother." Her voice cracked, then softened, taking on a childlike lilt. "I’m supposed to take care of you."

You opened your mouth, searching for comforting words, but before you could speak, her tone shifted, sharp and sudden. "I know you lived with my mom during your teenage years, but she’s not your mother. She’s not. I gave birth to you– I sat on that bed for twelve, fifteen hours. Not her! Me," Her voice crescendoed, then fell to a whisper, trembling. "Not her..."

You held your breath, knowing it was best to let her rant. Your mother, the saddest woman you knew, had given birth to you young, been through two divorces, and by the second, she was lost to drugs. When you were twelve, she overdosed, slipping into a coma, and you moved in with your grandmother. She never fully recovered, neither physically nor mentally. Her eyes were murky, as if her life was constantly flashing before her eyes, reminding her of what a shit parent she'd been to her only child. It left her desperate to be part of your life, and you let her move in when you were twenty.

“I know, mom. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry,” she grumbled, her voice thick with irritation. She moved to sit on your bed but stopped when she felt something soft beneath her. Lifting herself, she frowned and picked up the Sukuna plush she had nearly squashed. Her expression softened. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Yuuji won it for me at the fair yesterday.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I remember how much you loved your dolls and plushies. You had them all around your bed. And that, that um, that one doll Botan bought you for your tenth birthday, the one you were obsessed with…”

“The black cat with the big eyes?” you said, the memory surfacing. Botan, her second husband, was a kind man, the kindest you’d known. He bought you the plush cat for your twelfth birthday because you always wanted a real one, but he was allergic. Your mother had thrown it away after they divorced, convinced he was cheating. She’d promised to buy you a real cat. A month later, she slipped into her coma.

“Yes, yes, the big eyed one,” she said, a glint of fondness in her eyes. “It scared me half to death one night when you left it in the kitchen. I came down for water, and all I saw were those two big eyes staring at me in the dark,” she chuckled. “But this one looks like Yuuji, how cute.”

Her smile softened, and she carefully placed the plush by your pillow before standing up. She reached out and ruffled your hair gently. “Alright, I’ll let you rest. Make sure you eat your soup. It was a lot of trouble making it.”

With a soft sigh, she turned and shuffled out of the room.

You glanced at the bowl on the nightstand. The soup was watery, mostly filled with large, uneven chunks of carrot, the chicken and noodles sparse. Still, you ate it, knowing it wasn’t the taste that mattered, it was the effort.

Finally, officially alone, your mind drifted again. Yuuji.

You had met in freshman year, bonding over shared pain. He had just lost his grandfather, and while your mom had left the coma by then, the damage she inflicted on you had already finished crumbling.

You had been together for so long, but the foundation of your relationship had always been built on trauma. Yuuji had begun to grow past his grief. Instead, it motivated him to live fully and seek, in his words, a “proper death.”

You, on the other hand, still lived in the past and grew nervous each day that he may leave you in his, in his new pursuit.

Though, Yuuji wasn’t the type to string anyone along. He wasn’t that kind of person. You were his first everything, and he was yours. He knew you were still suffering, and he grew an obligation to help your mother. Because of that, he stayed.

You felt embarrassed, and at the moment, you resentee your mother for making him feel that way; tapped.

You coasted back to the present, turning over and idly playing with Sukuna’s arms. He really did look like Yuuji. Was that the reason he picked it out for you?

You shook your head, rolling over on your side, tucking the Sukuna plushie in between your breasts as you drifted to sleep.

October 10th

Fuck, why did it look so much like Yuuji?

You positioned yourself on top of your plushie. Although soft, most of its design was embroidered onto the fabric skin, like the plushie's eyes, hard to the touch.

You both haven't fucked in ages, with Yuuji being busy as a college athlete.

You felt the plushie's softness envelop your lower half as you began to grind against it. The fabric was surprisingly responsive, almost as if it were alive beneath you. Your hips moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, building friction between your clothed sex and the plushie's plush exterior.

The plushie's soft, yielding surface seemed to mold perfectly to your body as you straddled it, its plush exterior conforming to every curve. You ground your hips against the toy faster, panting with need as delicious friction built between your clothed sex and the plushie's inviting surface.

Your nipples hardened into stiff peaks, poking against the fabric of your top. Unable to resist, you reached inside your shirt and grasped them, squeezing the sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger. "Ohhh… mmm… yes..." you whimpered quietly, mindful that your mom was asleep just next door.

The plushie's embroidered eyes provided a delightful contrast in texture, their slightly harder surface perfect for grinding your clit against.

Lost in the sensations, you tugged impatiently at your clothes, desperate for more direct contact. Finally managing to throw your shirt aside, your fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples until they ached deliciously. Unable to resist, you ducked your head down and captured one rosy peak between your lips, suckling greedily. The wet heat of your mouth sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body, drawing a needy whimper from your throat.

Rocking your hips faster, you chased the building pressure between your thighs. The plushie's surface rubbed deliciously against your clothed sex, the fabric of your panties growing damp with each passing second.

You circled your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing yourself with feather-light touches before increasing the pressure. Each stroke sent jolts of electricity coursing through your veins, stoking the fire building low in your belly. Desperate for more, you slipped your hand into your panties, fingers gliding through the slick folds of your pussy.

You plunged two fingers deep inside your aching core, pumping them in and out in time with the sway of your hips. Crude squelching noises filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans and the rustling of the plushie's stuffing. You inner walls fluttered around your fingers, aching to be filled.

You bit your lip, muffling a scream as ecstasy crashed over you. Your pussy spasmed and clenched as you gushed, soaking through your panties and dripping onto the plushie below. The soft, plush fabric absorbed your juices, the toy growing warm and damp beneath you.

You let out a shaky moan, looking down at your mess. A minute passes by before you reluctantly get up on shaky legs, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasm.

You pad naked to the bathroom, where in the shower, you languidly soap up your curves, replaying the intense moment in your mind. After thoroughly cleaning yourself, you step out and dry off, feeling refreshed and satisfied.

You wrapped the plushie in a towel to contain the mess and carried it to the laundry room, tossing it in the washing machine along with some detergent, setting it to run a hot cycle.

October 18th, 9:20pm

You stepped into the dim kitchen, your thoughts fixated on grabbing a snack. Across the room, your mother lay motionless on the couch, the low hum of the TV casting flickering shadows as she slept. The silence settled, and you reached for the cabinet handle, but the moment you opened it, something tumbled out with a sharp thud against the sink.

Startled, you jerked back, your heart racing as you peered down, half-expecting a rat to scurry from the shadows.

But in the sink, drenched in the pooling water, was your Sukuna plush, its pink hair dark and matted.

October 24th

At last, Yuuji was beside you in bed, the soft sheets barely a barrier between your bodies. You lay facing each other on your sides, close enough to feel his breath on your skin. Your lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. Until he broke it.

"Mmm," Yuuji groaned, his body trembling with need. "I hate how it's staring at us."

You glanced over your shoulder, following his gaze. The Sukuna plush sat on the nightstand, its large red eyes fixed on the two of you. Turning back to Yuuji, a sly smile tugged at your lips. “Performance anxiety?” You purred, your voice low and sultry.

Before he could rebuke, your thumb caressed the side of his face, fingertips trailing down his jawline as you pulled him in for another searing kiss. Yuuji melted into your touch, his lips parting to allow your tongue to slide against his. He tasted faintly of sake from earlier.

Yuuji's hands roamed your curves, squeezing your hips as he deepened the kiss. His hardness pressed against your thigh, evidence of his desire. But then he opened his lidded eyes and caught sight of the Sukuna plush watching you both. Frowning, he broke away, drawing a frustrated groan from you.

"Really, Yuuji?" you whined, trying to pull him back.

"I don't know, something doesn't feel right about that guy," Yuuji muttered, reaching over to flip the Sukuna plush face-down on the nightstand. He paused before flinging it softly across the room all together.

Satisfied, Yuuji turned back to you, his eyes dark with lust. He tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging you into another passionate kiss. Your bodies molded together as the kiss grew more heated, hands exploring and caressing. He grabbed the sheets before raising them over your heads.

Halloween Night

You sat on the edge of your bed, slowly rolling the red stockings up your thighs. The fabric hugged your skin snugly as you adjusted them, pausing to glance at yourself in the mirror. Halloween has finally come. The costume party you'd been excited about for weeks was just hours away, and you’d decided to dress up as Little Red Riding Hood. Her dress was secured around you with needles, as you did last minute shopping and they were out of your size. You hid the pins with the cheap red cloak that draped over your shoulders, falling just past your waist.

You were paired with the lace-trimmed stockings you’d found online. The outfit was cute but with a hint of edge, just the way you liked it.

Nobara and Megumi were supposed to pick you up soon, and the three of you planned to make an entrance. Megumi was the wolf and Nobara was the grandma. Yuuji, on the other hand, had opted to stay home. He had a big game tomorrow and needed to focus, so he’d promised to hold down the fort and handle the trick-or-treaters, along with your mom if she wasn’t already resting in her bedroom. You had teased him earlier about his dedication, but he just grinned, saying he didn’t mind.

As you turned back to the bed, you frowned, realizing that one of your stockings was missing. Your eyes scanned the messy bedspread, then drifted to the floor. Maybe it had fallen off when you were getting dressed. You leaned over to check under the bed, and sure enough, there it was, and there it was, wrapped around your Sukuna plush like some kind of weird little hostage.

You frowned, reaching down to grab the sock when, out of nowhere, you felt a sharp smack on your backside.

"Yuji!" You yelped, startled, before whirling around to see him standing there, toothbrush in his mouth, a playful smirk on his face.

“Be safe, okay?” he mumbled through the foam, tapping the toothbrush against his lip. “And make sure you don’t split up with Megumi.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the Sukuna plush back onto the bed with a sigh. You couldn’t help but smile at that, shaking your head. Megumi was like the reluctant guardian of your little trio, always making sure you didn’t get into too much trouble. “Alright,” you said, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. 6:09 p.m. You still had a little time before they arrived.

“I’ll be back by eight,” you promised, pulling on your red boots and smoothing out your dress. “Don’t wait too long.”

Yuuji stepped forward, toothbrush now forgotten, wiped the foam from his face with the back of his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as he always did before you or he left. “Alright, just be careful,” he murmured, his voice a little softer than before.

You smiled, feeling a little flustered under his affectionate gaze. You headed toward the door, your hand resting on the knob, when his voice called out to you again, making you pause.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he added, grinning like a dork. “I love you.”

You turned slightly, looking over your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “I know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, enjoying the playful banter between you two.

Yuuji pouted, crossing his arms. “Say it back! What if I die tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Die? From what? The neighborhood kids in bed sheets pretending to be ghosts?”

He gave you an exaggerated look of concern. “I might not have the candy they wanted! They could turn violent, y’know.”

Shaking your head, you walked back over to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek, tasting the minty toothpaste. “Love you, Yuuji. And if you’re still up when I get home, maybe I’ll give you something sweeter than candy.”

8:25 p.m

You entered the door with thunder. You’d been carrying lots of food left over from the party. Knowing the college students like you both were, food was a valuable object. You could feel your stomach twist if you had to go one more day with instant noodles.

What bothers you more is that your boyfriend hasn'rvcome down the stairs to help you put the food away after you slammed the door, a sign of frustration.

“Yuuji!” You screamed, hearing your voice echo off the walls. Nobody answers back. You didn't bother with your mom. Usually around this time, she took her pills and was out for the rest of the night.

What bothers you more is the bowl of candy, untouched, still overflowing with vibrant wrappers, sat on the table, mocking the silence that filled the house.

You cursed under your breath, assuming he’d gone to bed early again. Irritation bubbled inside your throat, but as you ascended the stairs, ready to scold him, the bubbles in your throat exploded, replaced by a scream that tore through the quiet.

There, sprawled across the floor, was your highschool sweetheart, his lifeless body drenched in blood. The crimson pooled around him, staining the hardwood. But it wasn’t the blood that froze your heart.

It was the figure standing over him.

The hulking presence loomed over you, its naked form towering and imposing. Pink hair spiked wildly, framing a face that was both beautiful and grotesque. One side twisted and deformed, while the other was almost handsome. There was something else in his hair, a sort of white foam that looked like stuffing.

But it was those piercing blue eyes that truly captured your attention – cold, calculating, and filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

Four inhuman arms emerged from its shadowy frame, each marked with jagged black patterns that pulsed with dark energy.

And two massive twin shafts stood at semi-attention, donning the same black markings on his arms. The weighty orbs of his testicles swung heavily between his muscular thighs, swollen and churning with virile seed, ready to unleash their pent-up load.

You could feel its gaze boring into you, as if it was sizing you up like a predator stalking its prey. A distant, hazy recognition sparked in your mind – you had seen this creature before, in the darkest corners of your memory. And now, it was here, in the flesh.

He began to walk towards you but his feet snagged onto your boyfriend's body.

Sukuna stared down at the unmoving carcass indifferently, as if it was a mere log in the way of him reaching you. He simply pushed the body to the side with his foot, thighs carved as if made of marvel, and made his way towards you.

"No... No," You whimpered as he closed the distance between you.

As you stumbled back as it advanced, closing the gap between you with slow, powerful strides.

Your feet became tangled, an unavoidable result of the intense fear coursing through your veins. The room seemed to tilt and spin around you, and before you could react, you found yourself falling backwards.

Sukuna was quick to respond, his reflexes lightning fast compared to your panicked mind. One of his powerful arms shot out, grabbing at your flimsy dress held together by pins. The delicate fabric ripped easily as you fell, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before the imposing figure of Sukuna.

His eyes devoured every inch of your body, taking in the sight of your lacy lingerie barely concealing your most intimate parts. The flimsy bra did little to contain your heaving breasts, your nipples clearly visible through the sheer lace. And your panties... They clung to the curves of your ass and the swell of your pussy, leaving very little to the imagination.

"Leave me alone!" You cried out, crawling on all fours. He grinned and reached down, gripping on your hair firmly, almost painfully so, as he yanked you closer to his throbbing cock.

The thick, musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils, making your head spin with a dizzying mix of terror. His other hand pressed the leaking tip of his cock against your trembling lips, smearing them with his salty precum.

"No...--" you whimpered before he forced his massive girth past your lips. Sukuna's cock stretched your mouth obscenely, the bulbous head pushing against the back of your throat. The bitter taste of his precum coated your tongue as he slid deeper, making you gag and splutter around his thick shaft.

The intoxicating taste of his precum flooded your senses, igniting an uncontrollable ache between your legs. With each passing second, your body betrayed you further, your pussy growing slicker as you found yourself eagerly sucking him of your own accord.

He watched you intently, a wicked grin spreading across his face as you lavished attention on the tip of his cock, lapping at it like a woman dying of thirst. A guttural groan escaped him as he wiped away the saliva that dribbled down your chin. Throwing his head back, he surrendered to the sensations, one hand tangling in his hair while the other gripped your head tightly. For the first time, he spoke. "That's it. Quit acting so shy."

His fingers dug into your scalp as he began to thrust forcefully, driving his cock deeper into your throat with each harsh movement. There was no mercy in his actions, only a primal desire to claim and dominate. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe around his thick girth, but still, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

His grip on your hair tightened, holding you in place as he pistoned in and out of your throat. The wet, vulgar sounds of your sucking filled the room, mingling with his grunts of pleasure. He was close now, you could tell by the way his thrusts became more erratic, more desperate.

He halted inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. Your nose was buried in his pubic hair, the musky scent filling your lungs. Sukuna held you there, letting you struggle and sputter around his cock before cumming down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow every last drop, your body shuddering as the aphrodisiac effects of his seed sent waves of unwanted pleasure crashing through you.

"Swallow."

After what seemed an eternity, he finally withdrew, allowing you to gulp precious air. Thin strands of saliva and pearly seed bridged your bruised, swollen lips to his glistening, throbbing shaft. He rested the weighty length across your flushed cheek, still pulsing and oozing aphrodisiac essence from the engorged head. It trailed down the thick veins of his cock, painting your face with his musky fluids.

You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, panting softly, a wild, desperate look in their depths. Something primal and hungry sparked within you. It finally came to you that this man, this... thing, was the king of all curses.

Sukuna's voice was a deep, velvety purr that seemed to caress every inch of your skin. "Just look at you, so utterly wrecked, so desperate for more of my cock, just from having it in your mouth." His fingers traced along your jawline with a feather-light touch, a mockery of tenderness.

"I wonder how utterly destroyed you'll look when my thick shaft is buried to the hilt inside your tight little cunt." His words dripped with a dark promise as his hands roamed possessively over your your.

Sukuna's iron grip on your hair sent searing pain through your scalp as he yanked you down the hallway, your screams echoing off the walls. As you entered you and Yuuji's shared bedroom, you passed Yuuji's crumpled form, catching a glimpse of his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. A flicker of hope ignited within you - perhaps there was still a chance to be spared from being ravaged by this beast.

But Sukuna remained utterly unmoved by Yuuji's condition. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent you tumbling onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly on the rumpled sheets. You immediately scrambled backwards, putting as much distance between yourself and the demon as possible.

Your efforts were futile. In a blur of motion, Sukuna lunged forward and seized your ankle in an iron grip. You thrashed and kicked, but he easily captured your other leg and effortlessly wrenched your legs apart, positioning himself between your thighs.

Sukuna's hands roamed possessively over your soft curves, his touch both tender and rough. "So soft, so delicate. Like ripe fruit, just waiting to be devoured," he purred, fingers digging into the pliant flesh of her thighs. "I remember when you used to play with me, moving my limbs however you wanted. Did it excite you, having that control?"

You shivered. His words transported you back to the weeks before, when you would idly move the stuffed limbs of your Sukuna plush. How was he alive? Big?

Newer flashes of memory surfaces, ones of where you carelessly tossed him, or accidentally sat on him. Yuuji performed all of those actions, and now he laid unmoving on the floor. What if Sukuna sought revenge for those thoughtless acts?

Sukuna's hands roamed hungrily over your curves, tracing the flare of your hips, the taper of your waist, before roughly palming the heavy weight of your breast, pushing them together. With a sharp tug, he rent your bra asunder, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper. Your breast spilled free, soft and yielding as they followed the curve of your sides, like melting butter on a hot pan.

Sukuna's fingers sank into the pliant flesh, kneading and squeezing with bruising force. He enveloped your entire breast in the hot, greedy clasp of his palm, thumb flicking mercilessly over the pebbled peak. You grunted as his roughness.

Suddenly, a wet heat engulfed your nipple. You gasped, realizing a mouth had formed on Sukuna's hand. The tongue swirled and lashed the sensitive bud, suckling hard and drawing the tender flesh deeper. Jolts of painful pleasure shot straight to your core as it's teeth grazed the delicate skin, nipping sharply before his tongue soothed the sting.

Sukuna's other set of arms slid between your thighs, a finger brushing against your clothed sex. He could feel the scorching heat emanating from your core, the dampness seeping through the thin fabric. A wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how affected you were by his touch.

"Mmm, already so wet and ready for me," Sukuna purred, his voice a deep rumble.

In one swift motion, one hand clasped together your ankles in one palm, spreading your legs wider. The other clamped down on your panties, bunching the fabric in his fist.

With a sharp yank, Sukuna tore your panties clean off, baring your glistening sex to his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of your slick folds, already flushed and swollen with arousal.

Sukuna's tongue slid out, licking his lips as if he could already savor your sweet nectar. In one fluid motion, he laid on the bed, positioning you above his face. Your dripping sex hovered inches from his mouth, the intoxicating aroma of your pussy filling his nostrils.

He gripped your hips firmly, holding you open and exposed for his hungry gaze. You could feel the scorching heat of his breath caressing your sensitive flesh. Sukuna's fingers dug possessively into the meat of your thighs, keeping you spread wide.

"I'm going to feast on this pussy," he growled, his lips grazing your inner thigh. "Ever since you came on my face, I haven't been able to stop thinking about tasting your essence. Sweet, compared to how slutty you were."

You have barely any time to remember before he yanked your hips closer, burying his face between your legs. He dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring the first taste of your arousal. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he moaned against your flesh.

"Fuck, you're so sweet," Sukuna rasped, his voice rough with desire. "So fucking sweet."

He dove back in, sealing his lips around your clit. At the same time, he thrust his tongue deep inside your tight channel, fucking you with the slick muscle.

"Ah!" You cried out, your thighs clamping around Sukuna's head as you tried to squirm away from the intense pleasure. Sukuna growled, the vibrations making you see stars.

His strong hands gripped your doughy hips, holding your frame firmly in place. With a sharp smack, he struck your pert ass, the crack echoing through the room. A vivid red handprint bloomed across your rear. "Interrupt me again while I am feasting and I will have you writhing and screaming on my tongue for hours on end."

"'M sorry... 'M sorry!" You whimpered, though your mind felt foggy, thoughts scattering like startled birds.

His tongue continued to swirl and tease, leaving hot, wet strokes over your quivering flesh. He zeroed in on your throbbing clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue before his lips secured around it again. He suckled hard and fast, sending jolts of electric pleasure racing through your core. He alternated between flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit and taking it between his lips.

"Mmmph! Oh, oh god!" You moaned, your back arching as you rode his face. Your hands fisted in his hair, pushing him closer. "Please don't stop... Please don't stop!"

Sukuna showed no signs of slowing down, his tongue plunging deep into your soaked folds, stroking along your velvety walls. He plunged two thick, calloused fingers knuckle-deep into your tight, slick heat. Your velvety walls clenched greedily around the intrusion.

Curling his fingers just so, Sukuna rubbed insistently against that spongy patch of nerves, stroking and massaging until your hips were shaking against his face. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth as he feasted on your weeping sex.

You babbled incoherently, hands fisting in his dark hair. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him against your spasming core. "Ah... Ah!"

With a final, well-aimed thrust, he sent you flying over the edge into pure bliss.

Your back arched off the face as a silent scream tore from your throat. Your pussy clenched around his fingers like a vice, gushing your sweet nectar onto his tongue and chin as he eagerly lapped it up. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you boneless and panting. Slowly, he pulled his sticky fingers coated in your essence and brought it to his softened lips.

As he licked his fingers, he gazed at you with renewed hunger, as if the taste of you had an aphrodisiac effect too. He knew you were completely at his mercy now.

In one swift motion, he pounced, his powerful body pressing you down into the mattress. With a firm grip on your ankles, he hoisted your legs up and back until they were folded nearly in half, your knees nearly touching your shoulders. The lewd position left you completely exposed and vulnerable to his desires.

"There, now you're open and ready for me," he growled, the bulbous head of his thick, veiny cock prodding insistently at your tight little entrance. You let out a sharp gasp as he began to push inside, your slick walls stretching obscenely around his girthy intrusion. It felt like you were being split in half as he slowly sank deeper, igniting a raging wildfire in your core.

"Ah! S-Slow down! It's too much!" you cried out, your fingers digging into his muscular chest to push him away. Your body betrayed you, inner muscles fluttering and clenching needily around the hard shaft impaling you.

He paused.

Then a ungodly grin spread across his face. With a flex of his powerful hips, he withdrew almost all the way until just the tip remained inside your quivering heat. You felt something else prod your entrance and your heart dropped.

With a brutal thrust, he slammed back into the hilt, heavy balls slapping lewdly against your upturned ass. He had managed to stuff his second cock into your tight hole.

Your back arched off the bed, a silent scream tearing from your throat as he stretched you to your absolute limit. Electric pleasure crackled through your nerves with each deep, punishing stroke as he set a ruthless pace, pounding into your sopping cunt with animalistic abandon. Obscene squelching noises filled the room, mingling with the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh and your wanton cries.

"Let this be a lesson to you, girl," he groaned, relishing the way your velvety walls gripped him like a vice. His hand gripped your cheeks, puffing out your lips. "Tell me what to do with my cock, and I'll return it twice-fold."

He could feel every inch of your tight heat clenching around his throbbing shafts as he pounded into you mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, driving him wild with lust. He wanted to ruin you, to claim every part of you and make you forget about any other man.

He grinned at the thought. "Your boyfriend would lose his fucking mind if he saw you like this," he growled, voice rough with lust. "Stuffed full with two cocks, moaning like a bitch in heat, surrendering to me so easily. Are you ashamed?"

He reached down to roughly grope your bouncing tits, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. The synchronized sensations of his hands on your breasts and his cock pounding into your dripping cunt were driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

"No," he chuckled. "No. I don't even think you have a single thought in that pretty little head besides how good it feels to be used like a cheap whore."

His lewd words only stoked the flames of your desire higher, your inner walls gripping his plunging shaft even tighter. You could feel the pressure mounting deep within you, winding itself into an knot.

"Take it," he growled. "Take, every, last, inch!" His hips slammed into yours with every pronounced word of his command. "Gonna pump this pussy full. Flood your womb with my seed."

Abruptly, he altered the angle, the bulbous head of his manhood grinding against your G-spot with every powerful thrust. That extra stimulation was the final push you needed to tumble over the edge. A guttural moan tore from your throat as your climax hit you like a freight train, your body quaking and spasming as rapture overwhelmed your senses in relentless waves.

His cocks pulsed and throbbed inside you as he neared his own peak, stretching you deliciously with each twitch. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against yours. You felt the first hot spurt of his release paint your inner walls, followed by another and another, until you were both gasping and trembling from the intensity of it all.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed as you both struggled to catch your breath. For a long moment, there was only the sound of your mingled panting filling the room. After a long, blissful moment, he rolled off you, his semi-erect cocks slipping out with a lewd squelch. Immediately, his thick seed began oozing from your well-fucked pussy, trickling down to your quivering asshole.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled to the back of your as exhaustion overtook you. Sukuna gazed down at your ravaged body, admiring the finger-shaped bruises and glistening sheen of perspiration coating your skin.

He leaned down, licking a long stripe up your pussy, savoring the mingled taste of your juices.

His eyes suddenly flicked to the shadowy corner. "Uraume, you little pervert," he grinned.

Uraume stepped out from the shadows, a wicked grin on their face. "I couldn't resist coming to welcome you back to the world, my lord Sukuna." Their eyes roamed over your cum-splattered body, and followed the trail of stuffing on the floor.

"I was wondering when you would come back from that humiliating curse."

Sukuna sat up, not bothering to cover his nudity. "This girl happens to be a descendant of one of my brides. I take great pride in my women."

"Yes, I can see," she said, eyeing Yuuji's body. "She served you well, my lord.”

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malleleothreesome · 1 year ago

Text

Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand.

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property.

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic?

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater.

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous.

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air.

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this.

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest.

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined.

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor.

Fellow feels his pants tighten.

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will.

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show.

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks.

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful.

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream.

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes.

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates.

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront.

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll."

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours."

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

#Fellow Honest #Fellow Honest Smut #Twisted Wonderland Smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst fellow honest x reader smut #twst fellow honest smut #ferro honest #ferro honest smut #twst fellow #twst ferro #fellow honest x reader #ferro honest x reader #twisted wonderland fellow honest #stage in playful land #my writing

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dstryvampres · 5 months ago

Note

drabble or short fic, where the reader is a ballerina and cillian (or any of his other characters) is her teacher and they start an affair??? please arhgggh i love your fics!

Doll Parts

Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!Reader

Warnings: age gap(reader is 20, cillian is late 30s early 40s), power imbalance, smoking mention, fingering

Word count: 2k

A/N: thank you so so so much for the request ! this honestly was a prompt i’d never thought of but really just ended up loving :)

You had essentially been raised by your ballet studio. Years and years spent in the small confines of the studio, moving from the soft and simple preschool classes to the advanced stages. As you moved up your class sizes became smaller and smaller, and your teacher’s became stricter. Finally, as you prepare to audition for the role of Copelia in your company’s spring ballet production. You have been given the honour of training one on one with one of the studio’s ballet instructors. Unfortunately for you, they had paired you up with Mr. Murphy, a teacher you had during your late teens that you found distracted you far more than he actually helped you. You were infatuated with him ever since you first walked into that class with him at 16, and it stayed that way now as he watched you stretch before practice, four years later. His blue eyes were haunting at points, analysing every inch of you at almost every second you were in this practice space together. At almost every moment he tore you apart with his eyes, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

Every night you left the studio to go back home you continually thought of just him. The small touches on the waist as he adjusted your posture, his smooth voice as he whispered praises in your ear, and how you longed for him to press his lips against yours. God, how you longed for him to do anything to soothe the fire that he lit in your body.

Mr. Murphy clapped his hands together, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Okay. Do you think you’re ready to run through the routine from the top, one last time?” Mr Murphy asks, walking over to stand in front of the mirrors

You nod, picking yourself off from the floor and to the centre of the room. Taking a deep breath in before going into the starting position.

“One, two, three, four,” Mr Murphy counts in, clapping his hands in a steady beat as you move through the routine.

Your legs still ache from practice before your break as you start up the routine, but as any dancer at your level would, you work through it. Focusing elsewhere on your breathing and the steps. Gentle leaps, spins, and footwork move you around the fake stage you’re on to the beat of Mr Murphy’s clapping. You’re doing well enough that he hasn’t stopped you yet, able to make it through 3/4th of the routine before you hear anything.

“Stop!” Mr Murphy shouts, and you freeze with your hands above your head and a foot off the ground.

He walks over, shoes making soft thumps as he approaches you. The sound stops as you feel a hand settle on your waist, you close your eyes as his other hand moves to the thigh of your raised leg.

“I understand that you’re tired,” Mr Murphy sighs out, directly in your ear, “but you can’t start to get sloppy when it’s almost over. Your work needs to be consistent all the way through sweetheart.”

You want to melt at the pet name, but stay still as he pushes your raised leg upwards a little bit more. His breath fans over your ear and cheek, grabbing ahold of your chin lightly and turning your head to face the mirror with the hand that was once on your waist. His touch is soft, light, and warm, something that will keep you up tonight. Now the two of you are cheek to cheek, it’s so intimate that for a second you falter, but are able to gain your composure quickly. He smiles at your falter and clicks his tongue.

“Look at how I’ve positioned you,” Mr Murphy whispers, the movement of his lips tickling your cheek.

He slowly removes himself from you, but his touch still feels like it’s burned under your skin, like it always does after practice.

“Continue,” he demands when he is situated in front of the mirror once again.

You start from where he left you, pushing through the last minute of your routine with as much energy as you could manage. Finishing up in a wilted position on the ground, breathing heavily as you wait for any sort of feedback from your instructor. A couple seconds pass before you hear a slow clapping from him. Slowly you look up to be met with a warm smile from Mr Murphy, a foreign sense of joy peaking through his normally harsh and critical exterior.

“Well, that was quite wonderful. Dare I say one of the best practices we’ve gotten through so far. If you continue improving like this for the next three weeks you could land a sizeable role,” Mr Murphy says, walking over to you. He sticks out a hand to help you up, and you take it gently.

“Thank you. All my progress is thanks to you,” you reply meekly, not able to look into your instructor's face now. He’s far too close than what is professional, but it’s not like you mind.

“Would you want to go out and get a drink? Just a small celebration, on me,” Mr Murphy asks, whispering it into your ear. A secret you know that if you take in, you won’t be able to back out.

“Yes,” you whisper back, face getting warm with excitement.

He pats you on the shoulder, tracing his hand down your arm and to your hand before squeezing it. Your chest feels tingly and heavy at the action.

“I’ll meet you outside the studio then,” his hand is slowly pulled away from your own before he leaves the room.

You know why Mr Murphy wants to take you out of the studio tonight. It’s the same reason he looks at you with his icy blue eyes in that way, it’s the same reason why his touch lingers on you for far longer than necessary, and why it’s only you he ever praises and compliments. Still, you wonder if you’re right about your hunch as you meet your instructor outside your studio tonight. He stands leaned up under a light post in the snow, a cigarette between his lips. As soon as he sees you he takes one last puff before squashing it on the ground.

“Hello,” He greets, offering a sly smile to you. His cheeks and ear tips are red from the cold, you almost feel guilty about making him wait for you out here.

“Hi.” You don’t voice your guilt to him, too worried about embarrassing yourself.

“You’re one of my best students,” Mr Murphy states, stepping closer as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think you’re one of the best dancers at the studio.”

Now he’s so close that the condensation of your breath is mixing together with his. Forming a big cloud above your heads each time either of you take a breath. You stare into his eyes for a couple seconds, searching for what he means by any of this. He smells of cigarette smoke and vanilla. A hand cups your cheek.

“Are you cold?” He offers as a horrible excuse for his close proximity and the hand on your cheek. You both know this, so he leans in slowly, and your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are pressed against your own, softly, gently, like if he pushes any harder against you you’ll shatter. Slowly he pulls away, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. This time it’s you that pulls him into a kiss, hungrier and harder than the last one. You both pull away.

“I am a pretty good bartender myself,” is all Mr Murphy has to say to get you to follow him back to his apartment.

You walk with haste beside him, arms brushing against one another, almost, the whole way there. Once you get into the elevator he’s already unzipping your jacket and kissing you again, hot and passionate. You know years of longing for him are being released on your end tonight.

Soon enough you’re sitting criss cross on your dance instructors couch, taking in the fairly nice space. Mr Murphy comes to sit beside you after he’a put away your coat. His hand comes to rest on your upper thigh, rubbing it softly and slowly. You bat your eyelashes at him and he leans in to kiss you again, this time you get enough courage to slip your tongue into his mouth. His hands settle on your waist and direct you into his lap to sit. Pulling back from the kiss just so he can stare at you for a brief second, perched upon his lap, before bringing you back into the kiss.

His kisses alternate between your lips and your neck, filling you with hot desire as you trace up and down his torso with your hands. In return Mr Murphy slides his hands under your skirt, toying at your panties underneath.

“Do you want me to finger you baby?” He prys, biting at your ear to punctuate the sentence.

“Yes,” you breath out, grinding down against his lap.

His lips are back on yours once again, pushing you off his lap and into the cushions of his couch. You shudder as he starts to trace your slit through your panties, only able to release now just how wet you are. Spreading your legs open to try to tell him to start fingering you already. The message seems to come across, as he flips the front of your skirt up and pulls your panties down your legs.

Mr Murphy breaks from the kiss to stare at your pussy, spreading it open with his fingers and toying around your wet hole. You whine, bucking your hips up demanding more. He clicks his tongue as he looks back up at you, but still goes back to kissing you. Sliding a digit up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness before sliding a finger in.

You gasp into his mouth at the finger, feeling him smile at your reaction. He pumps it lazily in and out of your wet hot cunt. Not going deep enough, it makes you want so much more. He slides in a second finger, earning him a moan from you. Now with two fingers inside of you, he finger fucks you properly.

He sets a steady pace, hitting different spots inside you each time until he finally hits the spot that has you moaning into his mouth with every push of his fingers. His fingers are long and thick, something you’ve craved for so long to be inside of you. Nights of dreaming about gagging on his fingers, and about him making you cum on them has now come true.

“Do you like this sweetheart? You like how I finger your dirty wet hole?” Mr Murphy asks, speeding up his pace.

You let out a moan in response, nodding your head as your eyes roll back. Your hands look for purchase somewhere, one lands on the couch and the other on his bicep. Mr Murphy’s fingers feel so nice inside you, the way he fingers you brings you to as close to heaven as you’ll get. You squirm around as he speeds up, feeling the heat in your lower stomach increase with every pump on his fingers into your cunt. His heavy breathing just pushes you further to your release.

Mr Murphy’s thumb reaches up to your clit, rubbing small fast circles into the bundle of nerves. As soon as his thumb came to brush your clit, you knew you had seconds to go before you were tumbling over the edge.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” Mr Murphy says, looking at your face contorted in pleasure.

His words finally push you over the edge as you cum all over your dance instructor's fingers. Gasping and moaning loudly, as your hips buck upwards a couple times. You lay on his couch for a couple seconds, breathing heavily as you try to compose yourself. Mr Murphy removes his fingers slowly from you, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to wipe his hands off. The embarrassment of the situation comes back to you as you try to cover your pussy with your hands.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed by now,” Mr Murphy lets out a dry chuckle.

#.dstryreq #dstryvampres #cillian murphy #fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian smut #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy x y/n

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chiwhorei · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐠.

Tags: NSFW and dark content below, noncon technically, gagging, humiliation, daddy kink, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding, choking, pain, dumb puppy and princess

Notes: drabbled for the first time in forever bc all I can think ab is Toji’s big breederballs. 1k of Daddy dick. That is all. Xoxo, chiwhorei

Toji likes doggy style the best, plowing you in front of a mirror so he can watch your ass jiggle and your tits bounce at the same time. Work smarter, not harder ya know?

Mostly, he likes the angle and how he can jam more of his cock in before you start crying about the stretch of your abused little pussy. He likes holding your mouth open with two of his big fingers on either side of your pretty, messy, fucked-out face.

“What’s that baby? Didya say something?” He jeers, watching the fear in your eyes as he pulls his cock out all the way to tap his heavy tip on your asshole. Your words are lost in the stretch of your lips, but he’s sure your begging him to slow down. He won’t, so there’s no point anyway.

“Nghh- agh—”

“Oh baby,” his cooing is almost sweet, “you really shouldn’t talk with yer mouth full.”

His smile is wide and poisonous, and the grip on your face tightens, squishing your cheeks and obscuring your bleary vision even more. Toji angles his cock back into your dripping hole, breaching the tight ring of muscle as your stretched to accommodate his girth. You’d scream out if you could- beg him not to tear you in half- but your pussy betrays you. Toji pulls you back into him just barely and your sucking in every inch until his swollen tip is pushed right up against your cervix.

“Such a greedy little cunt you’ve got, doll.” He pulls you up by your mouth so his words land against your sweaty temple. You sputter, drool and slobber falling freely to coat your jaw.

Your muffled babbles turn desperate, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting Toji’s fingers. He can see the fear in your eye as it reflects back to him, the pain in your aching jaw and stiff neck.

From this angle, you can feel every cement inch resting in your stomach. Shaky fingers trail down your front and land on the lump just under your belly button. Toji watches as you smooth over the bump with your palms, how you startle like a fawn when you feel him pushing your cute little tummy out even more.

“Such a dump little puppy, still pawing for daddy’s cock,” he let’s go of your mouth and you almost fall forward, his arm wraps around your middle, fingers meeting your own and pressing down hard. The air from your lungs falls flatly on the ground.

Toji’s free hand finds a home around your neck, so big that he can almost close his fingers around your throat completely.

“Daddy’s still got a few more inches to give you,” he doesn’t try to hide the mirth that coats his words, “this is gonna hurt.”

A scream rips from you, the sound unfamiliar to your own ears after being held up by the open mouth. Toji stills for just a moment before pressing into your stomach as a anchor and pushing his fat cock head past the ring of your cervix. You swear you can feel it in your throat.

“Daddy- daddy please,” you go limp in his hold, head falling back onto Toji’s shoulder. Your brain has melted, you’re sure it’s dribbling out of your ears.

Toji’s cock bottoms out, the base of his cock covered in a creamy white ring. He looks up at the reflection of the mess he’s made, tears and spit cover your face, hair matted to your forehead. Your skin is glazed in a layer of sweat and goosebumps, and the pudge in your tummy is distinct.

“I knew you could take it, now Daddy is going to fuck a baby right into your little womb.”

His hips snap into you with purpose, moving within the deepest parts of your fucked-open body. The hold he’s got on your neck coils tighter, squeezing the sputtering breath from your throat.

“Be a sweet little puppy,” Toji’s snarls, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “and beg Daddy for his cum.”

©️chiwhorei.2023 || don’t fuck with me I’m so serious

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #tw.noncon #tw.belly bulge #tw.dark content

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ja3hwa · 11 months ago

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♡ 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞 𝐀 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your professors just want to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational...

『Word count』 : 2.3k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut.

Pairing: Professor!Yunho/Mingi x Student!Reader

[Warnings] : Age gape (reader is in her 20s while Yunho and Mingi are in their late 30s). Swearing. Dry humping. Oral. Deep throating. Pet names. Semi-public sex. Fingering. Dirty talk. Slight power play. Heavy cum play, saliva and fluids cause I lost control. IM SORRY. Filming, mention of taking photos. Reader is curvy and beautiful. Unprotected sex. Piv. Yunho and Mingi are huge!! Beefy men! Hehe. Some mxm and hints of prior seggy times with one another. Whoops what can I say I’m a yungi supporter. Also these two like to use terms that could consider the reader to be a “toy” of sorts. Which she is not and the boys do like her more than that I just got carried away like I normally do when I write things at 2 in the fucking morning. Oops.

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One

You gasped loudly, Yunho’s large hands slamming you onto the desk. Mingi had lifted you up off your chair, ripping your panties down while pulling up your skirt. It all happened so fast. Legs spread, Yunho's hot clothed crotch humping against your aching core. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, vaguely hearing both men whisper and chuckle. You felt so exposed under their gaze even though you were mostly clothed. Mingi’s deep chuckle caught your attention, making you shiver. “Look at that. She’s leaking down her thighs.” Mingi squatted down beside you, snaking his hand along your plump flesh. Picking up some of your juices that had spilled down towards your ankle. You had practically come just from them throwing you around like a rag doll. Yunho’s hips snapped against you, letting you feel his growing erection. He let out a groan, feeling your slick seep onto him.

“Fuck I might just nut humping this desperate cunt.” Yunho gulped, his hands digging deep into the skin on your hips, creating crescent shapes from his nails. Your ears were ringing, as you felt so overwhelmed and they hadn't even touched you where you needed them yet.

“Min..Yuyu..” You gasped, suddenly hearing a loud clank of a belt buckle. A hand gripped your chin, letting your wide eyes see Mingi’s cock leaking pre-cum on his exposed tummy while he held the hem of his shirt up.

“Be a good baby and open up.” he let go of your chin, moving to pump his dick, tapping his red tip against your sealed lips. You opened up obeying every word both men gave. Flattening your tongue, you let Mingi's large girth slide into your wet, warm mouth. “Fuck that’s it, baby. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your jaw went slack, stinging slightly as you tried not to gag. Mingi’s moans quickly filled the room, and he knew if they continued, they would only get louder. So he bit down on the fabric of his shirt he had been tightly gripped in his hand. You could feel him in your throat as he kept his thrusts slow and steady.

“Fuck look. She's getting excited just from sucking your cock Min.” Yunho had knelt down, coming face to face with your cunt. His mouth watered, studying the way you clenched around nothing every time Mingi thrusted into you. “Okay Tiny, for your first official lesson, let's see how quickly you squirt on my face.”

You whimpered around Mingi’s cock feeling Yunho’s tongue lap a long, slow strip of your cum, sucking on your lower lips before pulling away with a pop. His mouth was hot and abusive, his fingers slipping in next to his tongue. They were pumping at a pace that was making your lower tummy burn. Your jaw was slack, tempting to lock or close tightly around Mingi. He seemed to notice picking up his pace in order to release deep down your throat. “Fuck Sugar I think I’m gonna bust down this pretty throat of yours. Is that okay? I want to empty myself in your mouth.”

You whimper around Mingi’s cock from his filthy words. Your fingers squeezing his thighs, a silent way for you to say ‘yes, please, do as you please’. and so he obeyed, snapping his hips against you, spilling ropes of cum down your throat. You tried to swallow it all but it was like his seed was endless, and when he finally stopped and slid out of you, his fingers gazed over your chin seeing you trying your best to gulp down the rest of the white cream. “Awe, was it too much sugar?”

Your eyes were watering as you were now contemplating just spitting it out. But you were in a classroom, and you wanted to not make too much of a mess. Mingi sensed your panic, kneeling down besides the desk you were still leaning against. He brought your face to his, clicking his tongue. “well come here, Sugar. Let me help.” His dark smirk made your head spin. “Sharing is caring.”

His lips latched onto yours, letting his tongue slip into your half-full mouth. His seed spilled into his mouth, letting himself taste the saltiness of his come. He swallows quickly, making you cry out against his hot, wet muscle. Meanwhile, Yunho hadn't stopped his assault on your aching pussy pumping to fingers deep inside you tipping you over the edge. Your climax was unlike anything you’ve felt before in your life. Your eyes were rolled back and your whole body tensed. You were on fire. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.”

“Hmm.” Yunho chuckles against your cunt. “You got a potty mouth baby.” you had the temptation to bite back at him suddenly, knowing all they had been doing for the past twenty minutes was swear and spill out filth. But the gushing liquid flowing down your legs distracted you, moaning instead, feeling your knees buckle.

“Look at that.” Mingi had stepped back to stand behind you, taking in the view of your slumped against. Laying on top of the deck, your legs almost practically dangling limp and white cream mixing with clear liquid pouring down onto the floor below you. Yunho had stood up also, standing with his hands on his hips, looking smug of himself. “Maybe we should take a picture. Document the first time we got our girl off, huh?”

Mingi and Yunho were mumbling to one another as if you were just lying on a school table fucked out of your mind in front of them. Suddenly you hear a click of a camera and your mind, as if a miracle, unfogs. Using your shaking arms you prop yourself on your elbows, wiggling your ass slightly while trying to look over your shoulder. “Fuck stay still princess.”

You tried to obey, noticing Yunho’s flash on his phone. You’ve never been in such a dirty position, let alone filmed. You wanted to come just at the sheer thought these two very beefy men were so obsessed with what you looked like they needed to take photos for safekeeping. It made you have a sense of powerlessness. Strangely. “Mingi, Yunho. Someone please…touch me.”

You couldn’t explain where this newfound confidence came from, but your words made both males instantly by you. Yunho helped you up, leaning your chest against his while Mingi stood behind you, giving feathering kisses along your neck and covered shoulder blade. “We are here tiny. You want us to touch you. Fuck you right here in this classroom.”

“Yes please,” you answered so sweetly, Yunho swore he could have melted then and there. Mingi already had his slacks down, quickly following with his boxers. He grasps your hips, lifting your shirt up slightly so he can get a good view of your ass. His large hand almost covered your entire plump cheek, loving the way your body curves roll and fold beautifully. Like fresh bread dough, ready for Mingi to squeeze.

“Fuck, you gonna have to take us raw.” Mingi motioned, realizing he didn’t have condoms with him and He knew Yunho was definitely not carrying. “You okay with that Sugar?”

“Yes, please, sir.” The plea fell from your tongue before you could register what you had said. The pet name sent Mingi’s cock twitching. His fingers dug more into your hips, threatening to draw blood from the sheer tightness of his grip. His tip slid along your folds, picking up some of your slick, Yunho’s eyes were glued to where his best friend was almost connected to you. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.

“Fuck Baby, what did I say about calling us sir or Mr…” Yunho’s voice was deep, deeper than normal. With a grumble hidden beneath. You whimper out a simple ‘sorry’ feeling a weird form of guilt, feeling bad for making your boys upset… your boys. That’s it. That’s what your mind thought of them as. But that’s if they’ll have you more than just today. Your eyes opened, looking straight at Yun. Your brow was scrunched as you reached for him. He stepped closer, his left hand gripping the back of your neck so you were at eye level with him. “If you keep calling us sir. I can’t promise what I might do to you.”

“S...Sir. Please.” You gasp, suddenly feeling Mingi sink deep inside your cunt. Yunho growls, pulling his cock out of his slacks, pushing you down so you were bent on an angle, your ass flushed against Mingi's pelvis and Yunho’s angry tip pressed firmly to your mouth. Pre-cum smeared on your tongue as you lapped along his shaft before he pushed inside your warm mouth.

"Fuck you feel amazing doll." Yunho threw his head back in a groan. His fingers laced in your messy hair, tightly guiding you along his cock. Mingi, on the other hand, had his nails dug into your plump flesh, thrusting at a speed that left no room for oxygen. He didn't let you get used to his size, but the burn made your tummy rumble. He stretched you out perfectly, making your eyes roll back and saliva pool in your mouth, which Inevitably spilled out down Yunho's cock, coating his balls.

"Shit, Sugar. Why didn't we do this sooner? Your pussy is so fucking tight. And warm. Feels like heaven." Mingi's rambles cause you to clench around him, making his hips stutter a bit. Yunho’s cock still deep down your throat you mumble around him, making the vibrations cause Yunho to still himself, fearing he might come then and there.

“Come one, baby, why don’t you come for Mingi, hey? So we empty out loads in you.” You knew deep down Yunho’s desperate words were cause he was close, and given his thrusts were shallow and no longer timed. You were aware he didn’t have along. So you just moaned in response, wiggling your hips against Mingi in a way to tell him to hurry up. Mingi’s dark chuckle went straight to your core, making your high draw closer. You no longer felt the shyness from before but a newfound feeling brewing in your gut. One that made you well away that these two very large men were wrapped around your little finger. You let one hand go from Yunho’s thigh, bringing it down so you could rub your clit harshly, quickly finding a rhythm towards your release.

“Fuck I’m coming.” Mingi crossed his hands, placing them on opposite hip dips, slamming his cock just right into your soaked cunt, emptying his seed deep inside you. This made you cum, clenching tightly around him, milking him of his cum. Yunho on the other hand, with his eyes watching intensely at how his cock disappeared then reappeared from your mouth, he grabbed your hair into a messy ponytail, stilling his thrusts to come inside your slacked mouth. You tried you best to swallow but like Mingi, it was like his white creamy liquid was endless. So when he pulled out of you, he was quick to pull you up by your hair, smashing his lips against your own. His tongue slipped inside, taking his cum into his own mouth and swallowing. You have never known a man to taste himself let alone swallow his own load. God, it made you hornier than those female students fawning over these two super solider like men in front of you now.

“Come on, Yuyu. Come take a spin.” You could hear Mingi’s deep voice chuckling behind you. You pulled away from Yunho seeing Mingi swiftly move to stand beside the larger man. He grabbed Yun’s cock, tugging it a bit with a smirk plastered on his face. “You still have one more, why don’t you empty it into our sweet girl here.”

Mingi’s lips grazed Yunho's sweaty neck, licking along the other male's jugular before giving it a little bite. These two have definitely played this game before with one another. But whether or not it has been with another person involved is a different story. But you shook off any negative thoughts when you reminded yourself about what Mingi had called you. Our girl. God, these men will be the death of you. Yunho didn’t have time to say anything as you quickly stood up, grabbing his shoulders tightly, much to your poor imbalance. His hands, without hesitation, gripped your hips, holding you close against his broad chest. You leaned in and kissed him quickly, desperately, but there was a hint of something more. A stillness, caringness behind his kiss, something that was screaming, more, more, more.

Yunho’s left hand fell from your hip, snaking to grab a handful of your ass cheek, giving it a rough squeeze. His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, his sharp inhale through his nose.

His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, followed by a sharp inhale through his nose. Without breaking the kiss, he walked with you tightly in his grasp before the back of your legs hit the desk softly. You understood instantly what he wanted, removing your hands from his shoulders and then placing them down onto the oak table. You push yourself up with the little strength you have left, letting him shimmy between your spread thighs. he finally pulled away from your lips, so he could look down to where his cock was resting on your soaked tummy, “such a pretty baby. So ready for whatever we want. Are you are good girl darling? Going to be my good girl?”

“Yes, Yuyu. I want to be your good girl. For both of you.” You felt tears welt against the crease of your eyelids. Your nails dig into the wood beneath you. He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride from just how easily you submit to him and Mingi. How willing you are. He wonders what else they could get up to if they were in more of a private setting…

“That’s it, baby. Now, take a deep breath.” Yunho knew he was much bigger than Mingi and even though he had prepped you and Mingi as fucked you senseless only a moment prior. He was still going to be a lot to take in. Girth and length. So you obeyed perfectly, taking in a deep, slow breath as you felt him slip inside you, inch by inch. Your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape, following with a silent scream and brows scrunched. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever felt before. You tilted your head back, letting Yunho dive straight for your jugular, sucking a harsh purple mark on your neck, that would be very visible later. You were going to have to hide that tomorrow, but for now, you basked in the feeling of his teeth, tongue, or lips, as he thrusted at a slow but intense pace. Your body felt like it was on fire like you were a fuse box crackling electricity through water.

Everything was so sensitive.

And you needed more. Reaching up you grabbed Yunho's collar of his messy shirt, bringing his body close. His face nuzzled into your neck, snapping his hips at a pounding pace that quickly made you see stars. You were so close, just needed a little push, and then your eyes wander to a very desperate-looking Mingi with his fully hard cock again once again, pumping it like his life depended on it. His eyes were focused on the way Yunho's hips jackhammered into you, following the same rhythm with his fist. And that sight alone helps you climax, clenching tightly around Yunho’s cock, milking the older man for everything he had.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He mumbled against your neck, biting down hard onto your shoulder as he emptied his seed deep inside your womb. Everything suddenly went still, quiet. Even Mingi had stopped, coming all over his hand from the entertainment had was gifting before him. Yunho's breath was pooling against your shoulder, while your nose nuzzled into his neck feeling his rapid pulse. There was nothing awkward about what had happened. But comfortable. Like you three were always meant to do this. Like all these games of cat and mouse were supposed to end up with you in their arms.

“So uh, another round back at ours?” Mingi’s question just caused you and Yunho both to laugh.

Special Tags : @acetruepunk @i-love-ateez @hwa-sangsbbygrl @therealcuppicake @smileydk @kpop-mixes

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

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desertdollranch · 7 months ago

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Doll brands I never thought I'd own, part 3: Vanange

Vanange dolls were first released in 2008 and went defunct a few years later. They were a line of seven dolls all representing seven-year-old girls from around the world, who are pen pals with each other. The doll I am introducing here is Luz, who is from the Philippines.

This was a brand I was vaguely aware of, but didn't know much about due to it being discontinued, and there is only a little information still out there about them. Then I stumbled across the listing for Luz, and she was so inexpensive that after thinking it over for a few days, I decided to give it a shot and bring her into the family.

I was astonished when I pulled her out of the box and realized that she's not 18 inches tall; she's actually closer to 20 inches! I hadn't known that before. It was a nice surprise, since I do like the larger size. She's also built really sturdy, and her wig is lovely quality. Her red and white dress is beautifully made. Her eyes open and close, and she is articulated at the neck, hips, and shoulders. The upper part of her torso is vinyl and the rest is cloth.

She is closer in size and proportions to a Karito Kids doll than she is to an American Girl doll. Her head is the biggest out of the three dolls. Karito Kids get most of their height from the longer leg length, but Luz's legs are a bit shorter

She can wear American Girl clothes and Karito Kids clothes, and they can wear her dress comfortably. The shoe situation is a bit different; Luz's feet are thinner but about the same length as an AG doll's foot, so shoes will be hit or miss. On the right she's wearing Maplelea brand shoes.

And here she is in a couple more American Girl outfits.

And some clothes that I made. The picture on the right shows how she can stand unsupported and hold poses without falling over.

I love to see dolls whose hands aren't identical to each other, which is more realistic. Luz's fingers are individually molded rather than clumped together.

While I am very pleased with her, I believe she might need a bit of work done on her face. I think she'd look better with some color in her cheeks and maybe her eyebrows and lower eyelashes repainted. Stay tuned for that.

#vanange dolls #vanange #20 inch dolls

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years ago

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I've seen "Danny is Dick Graysons clone/son", "Dick Grayson is over sexualized by people in the comics", "Dick Grayson is protective of Bruce Wayne when it comes to romance" and "Danny is just as farel if not moreso than Dick"

But I haven't seen them combined yet.

Let's fix that >:)

----

Dick was a bit antsy. Someone had been putting his rogues and allies in the critical care units for the past two weeks and hes no closer to figuring out who it is or what thier motivations are.

He didn't want to ask his family for help since they were all busy with cases themselves. Apparently Gotham had its own new rogue that was giving them trouble. Figures. Well, thats fine, he could always be up for seeing Kori again-

Kgnk

The sound of an empty soda can falling out of a trash bin behind him had him whirling around, locking his eyes with that of a startled child.

A child who was stick thin. Walking the streets at night. Alone. Following him around quietly.

Well, at least this one didn't have a camera.

"Hey, kiddo. Who are you?" He asked as he approached slowly, body purposely relaxed as to not scare the child into bolting.

"Danny." The kid just stared at him as if lost in thought. Huh. It's not the typical little kid reaction Nightwing normally gets and it kinda stings his ego. "Okay Danny," Nightwing says softly as he enters grabbing distance, "Were are your mommy and daddy? Do you know you shouldn't be out this late?"

"I don't have a mommy," the kid replies, "But I followed my daddy here!"

Dick looked around, his bad feeling growing worse as he saw no one else but him. "Where's your daddy?"

Danny pointed at him.

"What?! How??!"

"Clone."

Dick stared at him. Yep. That would do it.

-----

Danny was a little terror. Dick and his family had discovered the connection between all of the people that were attacked. They had all harmed Dick or his family at some point...or, to his shock, hit on them.

The bats had thought little of bringing him to the Watchtower after five heroes were assigned to watch him so he didn't get into anything or in case this was a trap set up by someone.

Nightwing wasn't even gone more than 20 minutes but when he had returned, Kon was tied up with an apple stuck in his mouth as he inched across the floor and away from the pile of kryptonite was was currently on fire (How?! Where did he even-) with what looked like one of those rotisserie things over it big enough for Kon to be on.

Bart was on the floor with what looked liked cookies around him. Was he drugged?

Cassie was face down on the couch looking like she had been thrown there like a rag doll.

Superman himself was standing perfectly still and staring blankly at the wall, clearly in some sort of trance.

Finally his Baby Bird, Tim, was sitting in a recliner with Danny curled into his side. Danny listened with rapt attention as Tim told him the story of one of his adventures.

Dick thought this was karma for how he had acted as a kid. But first, he had to go rescue Red Robin who was giving him pleading looks every few seconds.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #clone danny #dick grayson #dad dick grayson #danny fenton #danny grayson #is a little terror #everyone is like: i can handle him BUT THEY COULD NOT #bart got drugged #tw: drugged food #its 3 am when i wrote this and i just woke up so if you see a mistake no you didnt

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joelsprettyprincess · 1 month ago

Text

Thank You, Mr. Miller

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (NSFW)

Joel lets you crash at his house following his birthday grill. You give him an incredibly wet, sloppy, desperate....gift.

Tags: facefucking, rough oral, choking, spit kink, degradation, facial, big fat age gap (college age/mid 50s), no outbreak, modern au, birthday Joel, pet names (babydoll, pretty girl)

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This is not lore accurate in the slightest, I just really wanted to write about giving Joel head. Please be gentle in criticism, I haven't written for an audience in a long time. And minors DNI OBVIOUSLY!!

"You ready?! We're gonna be late!" your father called up to you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The occasion was a grill at your father's college friend's house for his birthday. His name was Joel Miller.

You'd met him a couple times before; he and your father sometimes got together to crack open some beers.

Ever since you first met Joel, he hadn't left your mind. He was tall and rugged with a dark tousle of hair. His daughter, Sarah, was a little younger than you. Your father had mentioned that she'd just moved into her college dorm.

The last time you had seen Joel was last November, at Thanksgiving. He and Sarah had come over to share a meal. Sarah was friendly but pretty quiet, and you two hadn't hit it off like you thought you would.

Joel...was a different story. Your brain replayed the limited interactions with him over and over, looking for a hidden meaning. Some days you swore he gave you meaningful looks, and other days you yelled at yourself for believing that a man like him was into a girl like you. Someone half his age.

So why were you getting all dolled up, when it would be hot outside and no one would be looking anyway? The same reason you'd bought a whole new sundress for the party, and even shaved. You secretly hoped one man in particular would be looking.

Your father yelled your name again. "Coming," you responded quickly, and added a final bit of mascara. You grabbed your white crossbody bag off the bathroom doorknob and slung it over your shoulders, completing the look. Clomping down the stairs in your wedges, you followed your father out to the car.

It was just you and him going. Your mother didn't feel good enough to go, claiming she "could feel a cold forming." More likely she wanted to avoid being stuck being in the car for an hour. Not that you could blame her.

Still though, you were definitely looking forward to the grill. Even if that excitement was tinged with anxiety.

Soon you and your father were bundled into the car. He was driving since he knew the roads better.

Actually, you'd never been to Joel's house. It was always him coming to see your father, not the other way around. You wondered what his house was like. Probably not big. Traditional? Modern? Cluttered? You had no idea.

Maybe you and Sarah would become better friends. You guys could at least talk about college.

20 minutes had passed and you were already getting irritated. Your father had elected to put on the most boring podcast known to man, one about the economy. A man with a way-too-cheerful voice was going on and on about GDP and supply-demand.

Putting on your headphones, you distracted yourself by switching between Twitter, Tumblr, and TikTok. The holy trinity.

And this was how the next half hour was spent: scrolling. Not very productive, but there really wasn't much to see except the highway. Thankfully it was pretty empty on this route; apparently Thursday afternoon wasn't a popular time to travel.

However, this bout of good luck ended as soon as you neared Austin. Traffic went from almost non-existent to congested within a minute. Your father sighed and turned off his podcast.

"Now comes the hard part," he sighed.

The next 15 or so minutes were wasted just inching through traffic. Everyone was trying to get to their exits, and people kept changing lanes at the last minute, or getting into the wrong lane, and the frustration was palpable. You were really glad you weren't driving.

After what seemed like forever, the two of you finally broke free from the highway and got onto a regular road. Soon you were zipping towards Joel's house at a nice speed.

"Did you bring a present?" you asked your dad.

"Nah," he remarked. "Men don't really need 'presents.'"

You scoffed a little at that. "Alright."

Now the sights were a little more interesting. Austin was bustling with activity.

You drove through the urban area for perhaps 5 minutes, then your dad turned and the buildings and crowds thinned out.

Eventually the two of you reached a nice suburb with rows of houses.

Within two minutes, your dad pulled up behind a bunch of other cars that were parked around what was obviously Joel's house.

"We're here," he announced (kind of uselessly).

It was pretty small, as you'd guessed. It was mostly made of brick, just one story, and the front porch was pretty bare bones.

But you could hear voices and music in the backyard. There were some people going up to the house, and the front door was wide open.

You and your father got out of the car and made your way up the sidewalk to Joel's house.

The door was covered with a screen. You opened it and stepped inside, your father closing it behind you.

"Joel," he called. "We're here."

There was no answer. You looked around the room.

It was pretty normal. Your average American house. There was a worn looking green sofa, a brown loveseat that didn't match the sofa at all, and directly in front of you was the kitchen. To the right was a little hallway.

Both the sofa and the loveseat were occupied by various people. "He's outside," someone said.

You and your dad walked into the kitchen, where the back door was. Stepping out onto the patio, you could see there were quite a few people here, of all ages. They must be his neighbors, you figured.

You heard a familiar voice shout your father's name. To your right was him. Joel.

"Joel!" your dad exclaimed, and they quickly embraced.

"Hey, little lady," he greeted you, smiling. Oh, that smile. It could mean a thousand things.

"Hey," you greeted him more shyly than you'd like. "Happy birthday."

He chuckled. "Ugh, don't remind me. Gettin' closer to death ain't no cause for celebration."

Your dad hooted in response.

"Tommy's helpin' me grill, over there," Joel said, pointing to his brother on the other side of the yard. You couldn't help but notice how big and veiny his hands looked-

You shook your head a little. Get a grip.

Joel was explaining some things, but you weren't really listening. Your senses were being overloaded with this man in front of you. That was the best way to describe him- he was very masculine. Big, broad shoulders, a solid build, and his beard made you imagine unspeakable things.

Eventually you asked about Sarah. "I'd love to catch up with her," you said.

Joel shook his head regretfully. "Ah, she's not here. She has class today. She goes to the University of Houston, dunno if your dad told you."

"Oh, that sucks." You nodded. "Well, you can tell her I say hey."

He smiled. "Will do."

For the next half hour, Joel, Tommy, and your dad tackled the grills and made a huge amount of burgers and hot dogs. Tommy made sure everything was organized so everyone was served in an orderly fashion.

You got a cheeseburger, plus some dangerously salty fries and sat at one of the folding tables to enjoy your meal.

Of course everyone here was a stranger, so you were expecting to be left alone. When someone sat beside you, you involuntarily jumped.

It was Joel, and he laughed. "Sorry, baby, ain't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh! Ha, no, you're good," you squeaked, quickly wiping your mouth. Gosh, could you be normal for one second?

"How's college? You're a sophomore now, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. It's going pretty good, even though my classes are getting harder."

"Remind me of your major again..?"

"I'm undeclared right now. Just doing my generals."

Joel nodded his approval. "You know, I never even finished college."

That caught you off guard. "Oh. Wait, really? Then..."

He shrugged. "I dropped out. Didn't have the discipline or the intelligence. I went into an apprenticeship instead."

"Oh, that's definitely a unique path," you remarked.

"Now, don't you drop out," he said sternly. "You're a smart girl."

You laughed. "Not that smart."

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Trying not to act shocked, you casually answered, "Nah. I don't."

"Good. You're too good for those boys. Too pretty."

You and Joel continued to chat about school and careers for a bit. Your gaze kept darting everywhere; looking at him was like looking at the sun. He was just a halo of light and focusing on him for too long made you nervous.

Finally he left, needing to attend to someone, and your brain ran at a million miles, replaying the conversation, criticizing your voice and responses, deducing anything meaningful from Joel's words. Did he mean something more when he mentioned a boyfriend? Or was he simply curious? Ugh...this stupid crush was driving you insane.

A couple hours passed, and the party slowly died down. By this time it was about 6pm. People started leaving; walking home or maneuvering their cars out of the puzzle that was the driveway and street.

To your dismay, you found your father curled up on the loveseat, way drunker than he should be.

"Guess he had a couple too many beers?" Joel said, chuckling.

You sighed. "I'm really sorry. I dunno what he was doing all this time. I should've checked on him."

"S'okay," Joel assured you. "Do you know the way home?"

"Ah, no..." you admitted, embarrassed. You'd barely been paying attention on the drive home.

"Hmm." Joel crossed his arms and thought. "Well...then you can't leave, can you?"

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Uh– um...I guess not? But I don't want to impose. I can try to find my way back."

But Joel shook his head. "Your dad would be mad if I sent you out there. It gets dark quick these days, y'know. I'd hate for you to get in trouble on the way back. Look...we have a guest room you can use." He looked at your dad again. "I suppose he'll be comfy right there."

Your dad was drowsy, laying on the couch, still in his day clothes.

"There's a bathroom you can use, right across from Sarah's room. I'll show you. If that's okay with you?" He looked for your consent.

"Um...well, if it's not too much trouble," you said.

"Oh, of course not!" Joel insisted. "You can even wear some of Sarah's clothes; y'all are about the same size. It'll be no trouble at all, baby."

There was that word again. Baby. You couldn't tell if it was platonic or not, and it drove you crazy.

"Well, alright. Thank you, Mr. Miller."

"Joel," he gently corrected. "No need to be formal."

He showed you the bathroom and the guest room, then let you shower while he helped Tommy clean up the mess from the party.

As you cleaned yourself, the only thing on your mind was:

This is going to be very, very interesting.

After you got dressed in Sarah's room, you went to the guest room next door and looked around. It was simply decorated, with a double bed and a dresser by the window. You put down your bag and hoisted yourself onto the bed.

Okay. Okay. Taking deep breaths, you thought about your situation. You were basically alone with a very handsome man whose room was a 5 second walk away, a man who may or may not be interested in you, a man twice your age with a daughter the same age as you.

Totally fine, nothing to worry about. He definitely was not going to be on your mind all night.

Laying down, you tried to distract yourself with your phone again.

After about 20 minutes there was a knock at the door. You got up and opened it.

"We finished cleanin' up," Joel told you. He leaned against the doorframe.

He was so tall.

"That's good," you said. "Thank you for letting us stay here, seriously. I dunno what I'd do without you."

Joel gave you that sweet smile again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "No problem, missy. If you're still hungry, we got plenty of leftovers."

"Oh, that's okay," you assured him. "I'm more than full. The food was really good."

You were trying to ignore the slightly musky, deep smell that was coming from him. And the way that his shirt clung to his chest and biceps. And the way he was looking at you...

"You need anything else?" he asked.

"You've done so much already," you chuckled. "I think I'm all set for the night."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, don't be afraid to ask."

Get a grip, you creep.

Joel was berating himself. This was so not good.

It was more than not good, it was horrible. His friend's daughter, the same age as his own daughter, was in the guest room all by herself and all he could think were dirty thoughts.

It was her fault! Those cute, innocent looks she kept giving him drove him up the wall. Her pretty body, her adorably nervous mannerisms.

All Joel could think about was how good her lips would look wrapped around his cock.

He was pretty sure she felt the same way but didn't want to push it in case he was wrong. Then he'd really be in trouble.

It was going to be a very hard night.

A couple hours passed. You felt too awkward to venture out of the room, so you stayed on the bed for quite a while. Soon it became dark, and you were glad you didn't have to drive.

Feeling thirsty, you decided to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Your dad was passed out on the couch. Joel was in the kitchen as well. Dammit.

"Hey, babygirl," he said. "Need something?"

"Oh- yes, just some water," you requested.

He got a glass down for you. Passing it to your, your fingers touched, and you swore he kept his there longer than strictly necessary.

Joel watched as you got water out of the fridge. You took a nice sip, then sighed. "Thank you."

"Oh, you've got something, right there-" Joel stepped closer to you and gently wiped the corner of your lips with his knuckle.

You could only stare at him as he did this. He was so close you could see the gray hairs peppering his beard.

He let his finger stay there, and returned your gaze.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, just looking into each other's eyes.

Finally you broke eye contact and he stepped back.

"Th-thanks," you stammered.

He continued looking at you. "You're a real pretty girl, you know," he said.

You weren't sure what to say.

Joel took your chin in his fingers, and ever so softly brushed his lips against your cheek.

You made a small noise and he hesitated. "Is this okay, baby?" he asked.

You could barely breathe or blink or do anything but nod.

Putting one hand on your cheek, Joel leaned in and softly kissed you. After a shocked second, you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his.

He sighed, and pressed deeper, gently sucking on your bottom lip. You felt his tongue, and opened your mouth a little, allowing him in.

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed Joel back. He tasted so good, with a hint of toothpaste.

"Oh..." he mumbled, hands going from your face to your back. He backed you up till you hit the counter, and he softly growled, pushing his tongue in deeper.

His hands traveled further down to your hips, and he started caressing your ass.

"So fucking soft," he whispered.

Joel's whole body was pressed against you, and you felt him getting excited.

Finally you broke the kiss, needing air.

"Jesus, this is so fuckin' wrong," Joel muttered. "I'm as old as your dad, for crying out loud..." He shook his head. "And look how excited you got me."

You looked down. There was a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Wow..." you whispered. You had done that.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled you down the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind you.

"On your knees, babydoll." He started undressing, pulling off his pants and boxers. You obediently knelt on the carpet.

Joel pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. You got your first good look at his cock.

First of all, it was big. You weren't inexperienced, but you hadn't encountered anything his size before. It was girthy, with prominent veins going from the groin to the fat, leaking tip. It had a slight curve.

Joel placed his hand on your head. "Open," he ordered, and you obeyed, slightly sticking out your tongue.

He placed his cock on your tongue. You slowly licked up, making him groan.

"Fuckk, yes," he gasped.

You focused on just the tip, licking and slurping at it. His precum was already leaking out.

Joel's hand shot out to grip your hair as you slowly service him, dragging your tongue across the tip and eventually taking it in your mouth, sucking it.

The only noises in the room were Joel's breathy groans and the wet, slurping noise from your mouth as you licked stripes up his fat shaft.

"Just like that, baby," he whispered, stroking your hair. "So fuckin' good."

You took more of him in, looking up at his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brow.

Joel pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, first gently, then he got more impatient and rougher, thrusting into your mouth with little regard to your comfort.

"Yes, fuck, take my fucking cock," he growled. He put his hands on either side of your head and started roughly facefucking you, panting and groaning. His balls slapped against your chin.

You moaned and could feel your mouth producing drool as Joel wildly thrusted into you. His cock kept nearly hitting the back of your throat, and you were gagging a little.

Your drool pooled and dripped down onto your bare tits.

"Agh- mghhrgh-" you gasped, barely able to form a coherent word or thought. The only thing that was going through your mind was cock.

"Choke on it," Joel growled. He was getting mean with it. His cock pushed into your mouth again and again, not stopping or slowing, even as you choked on it. You desperately tapped on his thigh to tell him to let up.

Joel reluctantly did so, allowing you to take several gasping breaths before coaxing it back in. He resumed the pace, a little gentler than before, but still brutal.

By this time he'd backed you up so your head was against the edge of the bed. He was using your mouth like it was a fleshlight, an inanimate object. He was pulling at your hair.

Your eyes were tearing. You couldn't even suck anymore, just had to lay there while Joel used you.

How long had he felt like this? This pent-up frustration?

"Yes, yes, fuck," he chanted, thrusts growing more erratic. He was close.

You deepthroated him a few times, going until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. You made sure your lips gripped his cock.

"I'm close, babydoll," he moaned. "Gonna fuckin' cum all over your pretty face. You want that? Yeah?"

"Mmm," you groaned in agreement, blinking several times.

"That's right. Gonna fucking swallow my cum, right? You little slut. You've wanted this cock for a while, huh? S'why you're drooling all over it like a dumb whore."

The insults turned you on. Joel kept thrusting, chasing his release, and your eyes rolled as you struggled to take it all.

Finally, Joel let out a loud groan and pressed himself against your mouth, cumming hard onto your tongue. His hot thick load rapidly filled your mouth, and you moaned softly as his balls twitched. He slowly pulled out and stroked his shaft, letting out a second thick load onto your forehead. It slowly oozed down your face onto your nose and cheeks.

Joel remained where he was, riding out the rest of his orgasm on your face. Soon he'd splattered his cum all over, glazing your cheeks, nose, and lips. Some of it dripped onto your tits.

You inhaled deeply as you caught your breath, amazed at the amount he'd let out. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of his load.

Joel puffed too, slowly coming down from his high.

There was a long silence, then Joel breathed: "Best birthday ever.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #im sorry for mentioning his balls #but be glad i didnt add a ball sucking part #because i really wanted to #18+ mdni

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