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flangore · 1 year ago

Text

❥ scarlet plumes

feat.: Valentino/f!reader

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning

You were not the type to get into trouble.

Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.

All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.

There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.

When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.

You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.

“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”

In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.

Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.

Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.

“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”

One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”

With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”

“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”

“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”

This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.

“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”

Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.

It's entirely unnecessary, either way.

You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.

It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.

“Val—?”

“Bend over, baby.”

“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”

“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”

For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”

“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”

Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.

This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.

“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.

“Sure doesn't seem like it.”

The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.

Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.

Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him

“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.

The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.

This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.

You weren't able to breathe.

Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”

His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.

Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.

When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.

“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Val, 'm sorry—”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”

Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.

Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.

Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.

“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”

Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”

“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”

When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.

i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE

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pseudowho · 6 months ago

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It was in the corridors of Jujutsu High, that Nanami Kento first learned that one of the First Years had gone missing.

Whispers of varying voice rose and fell along the wood-panelled walls as Kento walked with a growing unease. Rumours rose on both sides around him, as if in some uncanny valley.

"...off the rails..."

"...not answering calls apparently..."

"...unauthorised? Gojo's not here..."

"...gone rogue. Sukuna's vessel?"

Kento paused, outwardly unreadable as his blood ran cold, with his hand upon the doorknob. Balanced on a knife edge, he moved again, slow and considered, stepping out before closing the door behind him. His feet paddled madly beneath still water, and Kento pulled out his phone, typing fast.

His phone to his ear. A pause.

"Hi, Fushiguro-kun? Do you know where Itadori-kun is?" A pause. A single flat command. "Tell me, immediately."

Another pause; a nod, a pen and paper not required.

Kento waited until he was completely out of the line of sight, to begin running beneath Jujutsu High's tree-lined torii gates.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Scum.

Yuuji's red boots skid, bloodslick, and he stumbled around a corridor with his breath loud in his ears.

--execute him already--

He wasn't experienced enough for this; but he knew that when he came, hoping to earn his own goodness as proof, to those who determined his worth based on the monster he contained.

--better off dead--

And maybe I am, Yuuji thought, slammed by flailing bestial limbs into concrete, that crumpled like wet paper beneath his body. Slumping down against the wall, Yuuji accepted that the only dignity he could afford himself, would be to choose a good death for himself, as the boy he was, fighting to save lives, instead of the beast within, fighting to take them.

"Itadori-kun. Move behind me. I'll take it from here."

Yuuji looked up from the floor, slow and stunned. Kento stood before him, stony-faced as he bound his spotted tie around his fist, alight with swathes of blue fire.

"...Nanamin...I--"

"I'll scold you after. Behind me."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Yuuji's eyes were downcast, and chunks of rubble shook from his hair to his thighs, when Kento slammed his car door. As Kento stepped into his own seat, Yuuji caught the tail end of a conversation.

"...coming home to ours. Gojo knows. He's got it handled with the school. Yes. Alright. We won't be long."

The car rumbled to life. Yuuji's fists clenched in his lap, his face twisted with pain, guilt, the crushing weight of failure and embarrassment. Kento allowed him this, for a few minutes, driving seamlessly through the Tokyo evening traffic.

"Are you going to explain what you were doing, Itadori-kun?"

Yuuji was silent, gagged by the sheer volumes he could speak, all fighting for precedence. He heard the faintest sigh from Kento.

"Yuuji?"

Still, nothing. Kento's hands gripped the wheel a little tighter.

"I see. We shall talk after dinner."

"...you can just drop me back to the school--"

"We shall talk after dinner."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your hands worried the baggy sleeves of your cardigan before you heard the front door unlock. You stopped, plastering on a smile, and walking over to greet Yuuji as the door clicked open, Kento guiding Yuuji in and shutting the door behind him.

Yuuji's eyes never left the floor to accept your smile. He was thoroughly reduced, hidden behind cloud. Your eyes flicked to Kento, sensing his fixed cool anger, and you redoubled your efforts for Yuuji.

"Busy day, huh? You hungry? I've made lots...come on."

You sat together, tense in silence. Kento ate, robotic and clipped. Yuuji pushed the food around his plate, utterly silent. Kento pressed a napkin to his mouth, lowering it and clearing his throat. He repeated himself.

'Yuuji. Are you going to explain what you were doing?"

Silence. You placed your knife and fork down, your throat thickening with impending confrontation. Yuuji squirmed in his seat as frost formed beneath Kento.

"...I just...just wanted to be useful."

"Useful?"

"...just...wanted to be better than they say I am."

"They?"

You felt Yuuji's stress climbing, racking exponentially with Kento's insistent dig for clarity. You opened your mouth to try to soften Kento's blows before Yuuji blurted.

"Anyone who matters at Jujutsu High thinks I'm scum. Thinks I'm--I'm-- no better than--than him." Yuuji snapped, gesturing to the slits of Sukuna's other eyes on his face, and shoving his plate away with a clatter. Kento bristled, the frost thickening.

"Control your temper, Yuuji--"

"Oh yeah? And why should I? I could have died a good death there-- trying to help people, if you hadn't--"

Kento slapped his napkin down on the table, moving to stand, and you felt yourself shut down beneath the gravity of his rage, knowing it was all concern, but terrifying nonetheless, and you felt the escalation as Yuuji stood, too, facing Kento with combatant teenage fury--

"And who, exactly, were you helping, Yuuji? Were you helping the sorcerers who would have come to rescue you, if I hadn't? You call that a good death, giving the higher ups exactly what they want--"

"--well they can fucking have what they want, then, can't they, nobody gives a shit about me anyway--"

"--language, Yuuji--"

"--nobody fucking cares--"

"I care."

Yuuji's face crumpled, his anger burning out hot and fast. Transitioning from man to boy again, his sleeves rubbed the rage tumbling out as tears.

Kento's chest heaved with the fever-pitch of battle. He turned on the spot, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair, as he stared up at the ceiling, calming himself. He turned to Yuuji again.

"I care. And I need you safe. And while I cannot fathom the stress you are under, I am so disappointed with you, that you view yourself with the same ill-regard as those with such pithy, ignorant understanding."

Yuuji's hands hung limp at his sides, now, the tears falling freely. Kento rubbed one hand down over his own face, appraising Yuuji with ruffled impassivity.

"...finish your dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

A sigh, weary. "Then go and get cleaned up, and go to your room."

"I...dont have a room, here."

"You do. Third door on the left."

A heavy pause. Slow footsteps carried Yuuji away. Your head rested on steepled fingertips, your dinner churning in your stomach as you bit back nausea.

You thought of all of the words you could say to Kento, but dismissed them as soon as they came into your head; all too visceral, none of them helpful, and maturity held your tongue.

"...you get cleaned up, too. I'll tidy away dinner."

"No, no. You cooked. I'll tidy--"

"Nanami Kento. Do as you are told."

Kento was silent, stewing. Eventually, he stood, walking away down the corridor. You heard two showers, running. You left spare pyjamas in Yuuji's bedroom.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A gentle three knock-knock-knocks sounded at Yuuji's bedroom door, and he sat up fast in his borrowed pyjamas, wide eyes tired in a tearstained face. He sniffled.

"Y-yeah, uh...come in."

You peeked your head around the door, smiling. Yuuji offered a watery smile in return.

"Alright, kiddo?"

Yuuji swallowed thickly, nodding, resting his chin on drawn-up knees. You sat at the end of his bed, pressing a mug of hot chocolate into his hands, and he felt it balm his soul before he had even drunk it; the act of receiving it, so much more significant than its imbibement. You let him warm in the gesture for a moment.

"...he cares about you, Yuuji. A lot. You know that, right?"

Yuuji's mouth puckered, and he shrugged his rejection, churlish. You raised one eyebrow at him, a gentle, chastising challenge, and Yuuji blushed.

"...yeah, I guess. I mean...I...I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do."

You smirked, eyes twinkling. "What gave it away? Was it the running to save you in battle? Or the bringing you home for dinner?"

Yuuji's mouth was obscured, buried in his knees. He paused. You didn't manage to hear the words muffled by his legs, and you tilted your head to one side.

"...sorry?"

"It was--...was when he said he was...disappointed with me."

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vixensp1ce · 9 months ago

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fem!reader, uni au

There's a stranger in your bed, and he's fucking you better than any of your boyfriends have before.

Veritas Ratio pistons into your abused cunt, puffy and raw from his tongue, fingers, and cock. It's slender but long, almost elegant in shape, reaching so deep into you that you're nearly satisfied by him bottoming out alone.

But you're not so easily filled. And it's part of the reason why you're out on town, having finally freed yourself of your previous boyfriend, looking for a good dick to get fucked by.

But no one told you a stranger's dick would be this insane.

"Giving up already?" Everything Veritas says manages to sound judgemental and disappointed. You squeeze tighter around him, whimpering as your pussy protests, but he doesn't even crack an inch. "Slut."

He has you crumpled, exhausted, every muscle twitching from your past orgasms, and still he shows no sign of stopping.

"Can't even cum for me." Those long, deft fingers release their grip on your hair. You lurch forward with a whine of relief - at least until his hand creeps down to your cunt.

"Don't- please- ah, ah, ah~"

He rubs harsh circles into your clit. Sparks rush up into your belly, slamming you shut on his hard, hard dick, the knot ready to snap.

He groans, one of a limited range of sounds you've heard from him this night, and if it was even possible, his strokes get even faster. "Don't, my ass. Make me cum, you little bi- hrrrrrrph."

The knot unravels. "Veri, Veri, please, ah, please-"

A syrupy warmth spills out over your back, and his scent fills your nose again. You whimper, legs trembling, flashing hot and cold as your pussy spasms emptily from your orgasm.

Finally, he lets go. You collapse shakily, turning over.

He's hunched over you, purple strands concealing his expression as he ducks his head to catch his breath. There's a full moon high in the sky, and even the streets have gone quiet on this Friday evening. Or Saturday morning.

Veritas lowers himself slowly onto the mattress next to you, the only indication that he'd ever exerted himself the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. His amber eyes pass impersonally over you, roving over your room as if it were his.

That was how he typically was, you'd learnt. Veritas Ratio was indifferent, coldly analytical towards the softer parts of humanity. Even in the club, he hadn't had much to say about anything except "It's too loud in here."

He was an architecture major something-or-other, handsome in the same way his blueprints were - all flat planes and sharp angles. Veritas had been eyed by a number of girls all over campus (and professors too, so it was rumoured), but his chilling attitude toward each and every one of them had spoken its own message.

Then you'd gone out with some course friends to a club. His liquid amber eyes flashed blue, green, pink under the club lights, digging into the flesh visible just above your thigh-high boots, and you'd decided, hey, why not?

His phone buzzes insistently somewhere in the room. Veritas sighs impatiently, climbing over you to rummage for his possessions. You're too sore to move much and the sudden loss of warmth stirs up an unwelcome hint of disappointment.

You listen to him move around your room for a moment. Warm breath on your ear gives you reason to turn over.

"I have to go now," he says, face inches from yours. You jump in surprise, clutching your blankets to your chest.

"Already?" Maybe you should have expected it. "Do you need a shower first?"

He hesitates. "...That would be nice, thank you."

You wave a hand lazily in the direction of the bathroom, watching him go. "And raise the door up before you latch it!" you call after him.

You hear the brief sounds of struggle, then Veritas manages. The sound of running water starts shortly after.

You let yourself lie for a moment longer, then groan and get up. The sheets and laundry would need to be washed, the house cleaned, and your work for school still needed to be tackled.

You're in the kitchen, doing the dishes, when you hear the front door open and shut.

#hsr x reader smut #hsr x reader #x reader smut #honkai star rail #star rail #ratio smut #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio smut #hsr dr ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio #hsr ratio

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liz-on-leash · 3 months ago

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Hit us with that muffin top kink ;)

Could have done better with this one but oh well, consider this an exercise for a kink that I just discovered has a term for it, lol.

You spot Natty, strutting her stuff down the hallway, her thick frame barely filling out her skimpy outfit.

Her flat stomach, barely covered by a cropped top, jiggles slightly as she walks, revealing a hint of what you crave—that soft, plump muffin top.

You feel your dick twitch with anticipation. This Thai slut is gonna get the fucking of her life.

As she passes by, you grab her by the arm, your fingers digging into her delicate skin.

Natty lets out a startled squeak, her big eyes widening. "Ugh, what the fuck are you doing?" she hisses, trying to sound tough, but you can see the fear in her trembling body.

"Shut the fuck up, you fat bitch," you growl, tightening your grip until she winces.

Dragging her towards an empty dressing room, you throw her inside and slam the door shut. The room is dimly lit, perfect for what you have planned.

Natty tries to back away, her eyes darting around for an escape, but there's nowhere to go.

"Please, no, fuck..." she whimpers, her voice shaking. "I-I.. Don't hurt me."

You laugh, a deep, menacing sound. "Oh, I'm gonna hurt you, you fucking tease. Been showing off that hot body on stage, making fans drool over that goddamn waist and those plump thighs. But you know what I want, don't you?"

Natty's eyes flicker down to her midsection, and she swallows hard. "N-no, please..."

Without warning, you deliver a sharp punch to her exposed midriff, the sound of your fist connecting with her soft flesh echoing in the small room.

"Oof!" she grunts, her body folding over as she clutches her stomach. You've barely warmed up, but already her eyes are watering from the pain.

"That's right, bitch," you snarl, grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her to look at you. "You're gonna take this punishment like a good bitch.”

Kicking her legs apart, you tower over her, your boots inches from her face. "Check out that fucking muffin top.” You run your hand roughly over her distended belly. "So fucking soft and squishy. Bet it jiggles like a bowl of jelly when I pound your cunt."

Natty whimpers, her face contorting in humiliation and pain. You lean down, your hot breath against her ear. "Gonna mark this pretty delicious body, make it clear who owns this sweet meat."

Your fist connects with her stomach again, and again, each blow leaving a red imprint on her pale skin. She's crying now, snot and tears mixing as she begs for mercy. But you just laugh, spitting in her face.

"Begging isn't gonna save that pretty belly of yours, slut. Gonna punch and kick it until it's black and blue, till you piss yourself.”

You pull back your leg and deliver a brutal kick to her abdomen, the force lifting her off the ground.

Natty screams, a high-pitched sound that fuels your sick desire. She's writhing on the floor, clutching her stomach, but you're not done yet.

"Scream for me, bitch," you pant, your dick throbbing with excitement. "Feel that pain, feel it deep in your gut. Going to make you hurt so good."

As you stand over her, ready to deliver another blow, you notice a warm wetness spreading between her legs.

Natty's eyes are squeezed shut, her face contorted in agony. She's pissing herself, just like you wanted.

"You filthy whore," you whisper, your voice hoarse with barely contained lust. "Let it go, let it all out. Feel that shame.”

You give one last vicious kick, and her body goes limp, her cries turning to whimpers. Her jean shorts are soaked, the smell of urine filling the room. You stand there, catching your breath, admiring your handiwork.

"Fucking perfect," you mutter, stroking your aching cock through your pants. Natty's soft, abused body lies at your feet.

You're buzzing with excitement, ready to claim this bitch's body and mark it as your territory. You kick off your pants, freeing your rock-hard cock, already leaking pre-cum.

Natty's eyes go wide as she realizes what's about to happen, her fear-filled gaze locking onto your throbbing member.

Then you rip her shorts, the fabric tearing easily under your strength, exposing her plump, shaved pussy. Her pussy lips are swollen, already wet with her piss.

You can't resist the urge to touch, so you reach down, smacking a handful of her cunt, squeezing it roughly. Natty lets out a pitiful whine, her body trembling.

"Fucking love it when they're this wet," you grunt, your fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Been dreaming of this tight Thai pussy, just waiting to be fucked raw."

Your other hand goes to her top, tearing the flimsy fabric, baring her ample breasts. Her tits are perfect, big and round, with pink nipples that stand erect from the cool air.

You slap one breast, then the other, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. Her back is arching, but you just laugh, enjoying the power you have over her.

"Such pretty tits, shame they gotta get ruined," you say, squeezing and twisting her nipples until they're red and bruised.

Natty's body is a mess of red marks and bruises, her cries filling the room as you continue to abuse her.

But it's time to take this to the next level. Positioning yourself between her legs, you line up your cock with her pussy, the head pressing against her swollen lips.

"Stay away… Don't rape me..." she begs, her voice vibrate from screaming and pain.

Ignoring her pleas, you thrust forward, penetrating her in one motion. Natty screams, her body convulsing as you fill her tight cunt. Her pussy is hot and wet, gripping your cock, but you don't hold back, pounding into her hard.

"Oh fuck, take it deep, you bitch!" you grunt, gripping her soft waist, the flesh spilling over your fingers. "Feel my big cock in your guts."

With each thrust, you watch her tummy jiggle, the soft flesh rippling with every stroke. The sight drives you wild, and you pound into her harder, your balls slapping against her ass.

Natty's screams turn to incoherent babbles, her body shaking as another wave of urine escapes, soaking the floor beneath her.

"Keep pissing yourself again," you groan, loving the degradation. "This sweet pussy is mine now, and I'll fuck it till it loosened."

You reach down, gripping her hips, pulling her onto your cock with each thrust, making her meet your vicious pace.

Natty's eyes are rolled back, her mouth open in a silent scream as you violate her. Her body is yours to use.

As you feel your climax building, you quicken your pace, your balls drawing up tight. With a deep thrust, you explode inside her, your cock twitching as you empty your load deep in her abused cunt.

Natty's body spasms beneath you, her cries turning to whimpers as she comes down from her pain-induced high.

Pulling out, you admire your handiwork, your cock still semi-hard and glistening with cum and pussy juice. You slap your wet dick against her swollen tummy, spreading your seed, making her skin slick and sticky.

#questions #short smut #kiss of life smut #natty smut

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bunnyreaper · 1 year ago

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 5 — 𝖕𝖙 4 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 7.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, petplay (as always), thigh riding, pussy eating, johnny gives reader a piggyback ride.

notes - it's here! and my life and health is worse for it, but it's here! please don't expect the next part any time soon, but thank you to those patiently waiting ♥ also on ao3! ♥

"Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now."

Johnny's mouth continues its loving assault on yours, overwhelming you with his kisses. It's filled with the same passion as the first time, but now Johnny's heat seeps straight from his bones and into you.

His hands fall to your wrists, his touch warm and caressing and pinning you ever so slightly in place—just enough to keep you still, not enough to really restrict you.

It's Johnny who pulls away from you, an exhaled fuck falling from his lips—your eyes flutter open to meet his, the baby blues flooded with lust.

His gaze flickers to your lips before he whispers. "I dinnae want to stop kissing ye."

He steals your breath with both the words and the feeling of his lips when they return to yours, each slide against you as if he's stealing them, afraid he won't get another for too long. Though with Johnny, you get the feeling any second your lips aren't connected to his are ones he wishes for nothing else.

"Yeah, fuck..." You sigh as Johnny pulls away, his grip loosening as his forehead settles against yours.

Neither of you can fight the smiles on your faces, as you both bask in each other's joy, and the rush of endorphins and arousal running through you.

Johnny always makes you feel electric.

He laughs breathlessly, eyes sparkling with mirth as you can see him try to restrain himself. "'Spose I should let ye get settled first before I ravage ye."

"I have no complaints if you don't." You giggle in return, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before willing yourself to pull away too. "But yeah, probably a good idea."

If both of you had less self-control, you had no doubts the tension could have pushed you into rutting in the entryway like rabid dogs, only managing to bare yourselves just enough to have Johnny sink inside you. From the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, he wants to take you here and now—but he's nothing if not a gentleman.

You have no doubt that your own glassy eyes and soaked panties betray your need just the same, and there's a desperate, animalistic part of your brain that wants to drag him inside by the belt so that you can fall to your knees before him.

Johnny straightens himself up, taking ahold of your hand and preparing to head into the flat proper. "Want the tour of the place?"

You nod eagerly. "Of course."

You pull your hand free for just a moment to abandon your shoes by the door-—leaving them amongst the existing pile of boots, which Johnny only adds to with his own.

With your hands reconnected and fingers intertwined, he guides you into the warmth of the flat.

"I mean, the place is tiny, so it won't take long." He jokes, as he pulls you in further and throws his keys on the countertop. "Tada, living room and kitchen all in one."

You take in the open space around you—the room flooded with moonlight and a faint glow from under the kitchen cupboards, as well as a lamp that's lit in the corner. The ceilings are high, and the floors are wooden—the kitchen and living room combined to create a large, albeit cosy room.

"Nice and spacious! I like that it's open plan." You coo, as Johnny paces forward, and you allow him to guide you. Your eyes rove over everything, from the well-worn couch to the framed photos of him and his squad, or the pictures of wild-eyed kids that can only be Johnny's nieces and nephews.

"Aye. Can have ye curled up on the couch while am cooking, terribly, mind ye." Johnny nudges you playfully with his hip, drawing your attention back to the radiant smile on his face.

You follow him down a small corridor with doors on both sides. The door to the left opens into a bathroom with a large, walk-in, waterfall shower, illuminated with soft lighting when Johnny flicks the switch.

"Bathroom, with no bath." He explains, before his expression flickers to something briefly resembling a kicked puppy. "Bit sad about tha'."

"Are you a bath man?" You ask, your mind visualising the muscular man indulging in rich aromas and piles of bubbles—it serves as quite the entertaining mental image. And then your mind flickers to him in the shower, water cascading down his toned body, knots in his shoulders just begging for relaxation...

"Absolutely. And if yer not into baths, I think I know just the way to convert ye." His hand squeezes yours playfully as he throws you a wink, and you're left wondering if he could somehow sense that your thoughts have turned dirty.

"I like the sound of that."

Finally, you cross the hallway into the bedroom—a room filled with a mixture of earth tones and navy blues, the place is clean and tidy, beside the pile of clothes and various other things piled onto the chair in the corner.

"And where we'll be staying, unless you'd prefer I sleep on the couch."

You don't miss the sheepish look on his face, the look that tells you that sleeping apart from you is the last thing he'd rather do tonight—but you know that he'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked.

Stepping closer into his space, you lace your other hand in his and sway them back and forth, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I will be falling asleep on your chest. That's non-negotiable, Johnny."

"I'm glad tae hear." He pushes himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment after. "Can be ma little blanket for the night."

"... But aye, that's about it." He gestures to the room with one of your intertwined hands.

"It's cosy here, I like it." You comment with a smile, taking in the welcoming atmosphere of the room—the hints that the place is lived in.

Johnny comments as he moves closer to your ear—his breath warm as it flutters over your skin. "Hopefully, the first visit of many."

"I hope so too. I'll be leaving my toothbrush here before you know it."

You pull yourself from Johnny's hold, falling back onto the mattress and allowing your dress to ride up your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at Johnny temptingly.

Your eyes trail over his body, savouring every delicious inch that is John MacTavish. His eyes chart a similar path, following up your exposed thighs.

"Anyway, I think I'm all settled in now." You purr, trying to coax him back into kissing you like he was earlier.

"Steamin' jesus." He all but growls as he comes closer, crawling over you and leaning down near to your lips as his arms cage you in. "Someone's a needy pup."

With his face hovering inches from yours, you relish the opportunity to drink him all in. His baby blues sparkle with lust and fondness as they peer down at you, slightly hidden behind hooded lids. His eyelashes flutter so prettily, bouncing off his sweet, stubbled cheeks.

Your eyes fall to his soft lips, the scar underlining them that you want to trace your thumb and tongue across—learn the story of.

"Kiss me again, Johnny, please." You whisper softly, as one of his hands begins to stroke the top of your head.

"Askin' so nicely, how can I say no?" He smirks one last time before closing the gap, both of your eyes fluttering shut as your lips finally reconnect.

There's never a moment when Johnny's lips don't feel heavenly—he kisses you like a man starved and allows his hips to falter and press against your core. His clothed erection rubs against your centre, the denim pushing across your thin panties and sending your brain spinning.

It's instinct when you buck your hips up into his, chasing more contact from his throbbing length. The more time you spend around Johnny, the more intoxicated you become on his presence—your hesitations melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need that's only sated when Johnny is pressed against you.

The moan that leaves your throat is entirely accidental, but causes Johnny to buck against you and groan right back at you—after the moment of slipped control, he stills.

"Bonnie..." Johnny pulls away, a soft, hesitant look in his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold back. "I meant what I said about not expecting anything."

For a moment, you feel awful, like a temptress pushing him to the limits of his self-restraint—but your own desires swirl inside you dangerously, with every moment with Johnny only adding fuel to the fire.

The fact Johnny can want you so passionately and still remain firmly in charge of the both of you only reinforces the disgustingly puppylike crush you have on him.

"I know. I'm just enjoying kissing you properly." You sigh before taking a deep breath to release some of your pent-up arousal.

"Aye, me too." He continues to stroke at the top of your head as his thumb brushes across your warm cheek, making you shiver. "Hard to keep ma hands to myself."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Your hands rake down his chest, slowing once you feel the hardness of his abs beneath the cotton.

Johnny's hand falls to clutch your wrists, stilling your exploration of his body. The look in his eyes is all cheek and charm. "I should get you fed."

"Boo."

The look turns ever so slightly warning. "Pup, Johnny knows best, aye?"

"To the kitchen!" You announce cheerfully, breaking through the tension of the moment and redirecting the both of you before you end up wrapping your legs around Johnny and refusing to let go until he's spilled himself inside you.

With a breathy laugh, Johnny stands from the bed, turning around and offering his back for you to climb upon. When he finally has you safely stowed on him, his fingers gripping at your thighs as your arms wrap around his neck, he carries you to the kitchen.

Johnny doesn't let you back down to the floor immediately, instead heading to the fridge with you still clinging to him like a koala.

"Probably should've asked ye what toppings you wanted, but I just grabbed a bit of everything." He explains as he opens the door and reveals a shelf bursting with cheeses, vegetables, and meats.

You quickly scan the shelf for any nasty surprises like the anchovies or olives Johnny had mentioned on the way over, and find yourself relieved that everything on offer is delicious—with some of your favourite pizza toppings even there. "So much choice, and nothing disgusting, I'm surprised, Johnny."

"Hey now, I do have taste... sometimes." The pout in his voice is evident as he shuffles you further up his back before removing the hold of one of his hands to start removing the dough, sauce, and toppings so he can set them atop the counter.

Your eyes fall to the rest of the shelves, with the vast majority of them being stacked with the same plastic poultry liners. "Johnny, your fridge is 90% plain chicken breast, I'm not sure that I trust that."

"Well, actually, some of that is turkey." He smirks, until you lean forward into his sight-line with a grumpy look on your face. "Dinnae go glaring at me, bonnie girl."

"Clearly I need to be fed so I have less of an attitude." You huff, playfully teasing him about his earlier interruption to your fun.

Johnny finally lowers you to the ground, setting you beside him before he grabs the final few ingredients. "I'm working on it!"

With everything ready and set out, you start to plan out the deliciousness that will be your creation. Everything Johnny picked out is fresh and delicious, and almost calling out to you to be a part of your meal. You rush to wash your hands so you can get started.

"I feel like I'm gonna pick too many toppings and my pizza will just be a mess." You explain as you start to open a few packets while Johnny moves to the sink. "What are you having?"

"Lil bit of everything, why no'?" He shrugs, the smile on his face wide and infectious.

"I'm so excited!" You giggle, already thoroughly enjoying your little pizza party with Johnny. As you watch Johnny dry his hands and then begin to work the dough, a mischievous thought pops into your head. "It's a shame we didn't make the dough from scratch, though."

As soon as Johnny looks at you, he knows exactly where your thoughts have headed, and his face splits with an amused grin. "So ye could throw flour at me?"

"Flour fight, exactly." You nod.

Johnny sets down the dough, moving into your space and grabbing you by the hips to spin you to face him. He looms over you— grin now devilish, eyes sharp and tone teasing. "I'd win, hen, dinnae think otherwise."

You bite your lip, staring up at Johnny and shivering under his touch. "Hmm, you'd be covered in flour and looking so good, so I think I'd really be the winner."

"Next time, then." He purrs as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away after a few moments, yet lingers in your space and sends heat rushing through your veins.

"I suppose I could still smear sauce all over you." You tease, your arousal making you even more daring and flirtatious.

"Just askin' fer trouble with tha'." He growls, pulling you flush against his body as he pulls his lip between his teeth.

"Oh no... how terrible."

One hand moves in a flash, slapping lightly and groping at your ass as Johnny rubs himself against you. "Ye won't be saying that when yer arse is red raw." He groans in your ear.

"You wouldn't be spanking me when I'm too busy licking the sauce off your face." You giggle, squirming under his touch. Brattiness isn't your usual go-to around Johnny, but sometimes he just inspires it.

"Dirty fuckin' pup." He growls, his voice almost feral and animalistic in the way it rips from his throat.

He holds your gaze, commanding you with just a look as he removes his hands and leans to the counter. He returns with the jar, popping open the lid with ease before offering it to you.

"Go awn then." He commands, his expression serious as he urges the jar closer to you.

You glance between him and the jar, uncertain of what he's asking for a moment before the realisation hits—he's making you cover him in the sauce.

The moment stretches on in the heavy silence, as Johnny stares you down with an expectant look, waiting for you to comply. You timidly dip your finger into the sauce, hand trembling as you move to swipe it across Johnny's cheek. You assume he's going to messily return the favour, but he just continues to hold your gaze.

"Now lick it." He whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but comply, pushing yourself up close to his face and darting out your tongue just enough to clean his stubbled cheek.

It's then he grips you again, stilling you in place as you're draped across his body. "Good fucking girl." He purrs, and then returns the favour—gripping your cheek with one hand and smearing your face with sauce with the other.

Then he licks you, long tongue trailing slowly up your cheek and leaving you wet and squirming.

"Johnny, ew!" You giggle wildly, almost feeling tickled by his tongue against your skin.

"Ew? Really, lass? Won't be saying tha' later when it's my tongue in yer cunt." He makes sure his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues to tease you with his words. "Won't be sayin' tha' later when I have ye slobbering all over my cock."

He punctuates the last sentence by pulling you tight against him once more, making you feel the weight of his throbbing cock against you. You find your self-control rapidly slipping once more, especially when his lips dip to press kisses to the bare expense of your neck.

"Mercy, please." You squeal, attempting to wiggle free from his hold. "Otherwise, we might have to abandon the pizzas."

Luckily, Johnny is feeling kind as he pulls away and gives you space—yet the glint in his eye remains.

"Mercy, for now."

You and Johnny try your best to focus on making the pizzas without further incident—listening to early 2000s pop punk and exchanging little bits and pieces of conversation. He informs you that his Captain's house is more in the countryside and has a proper brick pizza oven in the garden that gets used precisely once a year when he throws a birthday party for Gaz.

It makes you chuckle how Johnny seems to enthuse about how much better the pizzas are when they aren't made in his "shitty little electric oven". It also makes your heart swell when Johnny mentions how Gaz's birthday is just around the corner, and that you have to come with him to the party.

When Johnny pulls your pizzas from the oven, you're surprised to see they both managed to cook well despite the pile of toppings and cheese.

The two of you eat your gooey pizzas as you curl up on the couch and watch an episode of Midsomer Murders. Admittedly, you'd been sceptical at first, and a little confused as to why a man in his late 20s was so into a show you watched growing up with your aunt. Then you heard his enthusiasm for solving the cases, and couldn't bring yourself to care about the slightly amateurish acting or the way the theme tune reminded you of the smell of her house.

When you realise halfway through that you're pretty sure Johnny's guesswork about the case is wrong, you feel your puppy love grow at least ten sizes, and say nothing as you watch the misguided enthusiasm and smugness sparkle in his eyes.

After a second episode finishes, you ready yourself to head back to the kitchen with the plates but find yourself stilled as Johnny grabs your wrist.

"Do you not want help with the dishes?" You ask, head tilted slightly in confusion.

"Maybe later." Johnny pulls you back down onto the couch before fixing you with a look that makes your cheeks flush. His hand finds its way to your face, cupping your burning skin as his thumb traces over your lips with intent.

"Oh, later, I see." You can't help but smile, and Johnny's thumb chases the newfound curve of your lips.

A lustful fire ignites in the pit of your stomach as you watch Johnny's eyes fixate on your lips, and you notice his pupils are blooming with arousal.

It's instinctual and automatic, the way you feel your body call out to connect with Johnny's once more, and you give in to the magnetic pull as you climb into his lap and settle atop him. Your hands curl around the thick column of the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you squirm around to get comfortable.

Johnny's large hands cling to your hips��a warning grip stilling you as his cock stirs to life underneath your core and pushes harsh denim against the soft cotton of your panties.

"Bonnie." The word is growled, yet wrapped in playfulness, as his eyes flare with warning and his fingers continue to dig into the plush of your hips.

"Yes?" You coo innocently.

"Careful now."

"I just want to kiss you." You whine, while resisting the urge to grind down on Johnny's length. Instead, your lips fall to kiss his stubbled jaw, and the protruding veins on the side of his neck. "Can't get enough of you."

Your own words break the dam of your self-restraint, as you give in to your urges and chase the bolts of pleasure that course through you, nudging your clit back and forth against the cock you crave so badly.

"Neither can I." He whispers brusquely, the words sounding throatier as you continue to kiss him and writhe against him. His hands guide your hips along your path, each thrust earning you a growl from deep within his chest. "Ye drive me mad, steamin' fuckin' jesus."

Your hips continue to writhe on instinct, addicted to the feeling of rocking on Johnny's bulge and the way the sensation ebbs at consciousness and makes your brain cottony around the edges. You nuzzle into Johnny's neck, seeking comfort and closeness as you continue to slip deeper and deeper.

"Johnny, I'm going crazy, I need you." Your words are whined against his skin, desperate pleas appealing to his baser instincts, practically begging him to just give in and take you already. The impulsive voice in the back of your head chants his name over and over again, as it always does.

This time it's stronger, overwhelmingly so, as you're wrapped in his arms and able to melt into his touch.

"Ya have me, pet." He whispers—holding you close, nuzzling you back, and pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "'m all yours."

Johnny continues working his hips up into your core, meeting you thrust for thrust and grind for grind. The sensation of your bodies meeting draws groans from his throat, each erratic connection making you both tremble.

Your eyes meet, an intense connection as Johnny's eyes search yours—him seeming to read every little flicker of emotion within them. Whatever he sees there spurs him into action, as he repositions his grip and redirects you—widening his legs before he pushes you down against his thick, denim-clad thigh.

"Tha's better." He sighs, immediately moving your hips again for you, rubbing your pussy across his muscle and giving you much-needed contact.

You find your rhythm quickly, working with Johnny to build delicious friction—the heightened sensations and connection have you overly sensitive, your blood fizzing all over your body just at being able to grind against Johnny. You know he's going to ruin you when things really start to escalate. You also know you're not going to last long at all.

"Humping my thigh like a good pup." Johnny groans as he buries himself into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin—you tilt your head to accommodate him getting access to wherever his mouth pleases.

"Gonna leave a wet spot." You feel the way your wet panties are clinging to your folds and know some of your arousal is leaking through to the denim beneath.

Johnny growls, his thigh pushing up to meet you more firmly, as if begging to be soiled further. "Go awn, soak ma jeans."

"Johnny..."

"Sound so pretty whinin' fer me, whimperin'." He purrs straight into your ear, making your back arch as your skin tingles all over. "Gonna bark for me?"

You quickly shake your head before hiding in Johnny's chest, cheeks ablaze. "'m shy." You whisper, hoping said reservedness won't disappoint him.

One of Johnny's hands makes its way up your body, stopping to stroke the top of your head soothingly. "It's okay, pup, it'll come." He reassures you, not let down in the slightest. "Jus' keep grinding."

Your hips move with renewed fervour, chasing the rapidly building high that twists and coils in your stomach. Pleasure radiates out from your core, flowing through your veins and clouding your brain—refocusing yourself entirely on being good for Johnny.

"Feels good?" Johnny asks in response to your escalating whines and moans. "Use yer words for me."

Words are hard to form when your throat is so tightened and your mind so blissed out, but you have to obey. Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, closer to your reward. The tension between you and Johnny has been building for so long, with your need rapidly spiralling from the moment the two of you first started talking.

You need the release, need to cum under Johnny's touch and command—finally let him into your mind where his commands will make their home. As your thighs tremble around Johnny's, you force yourself to summon the strength to lift your head, to use your words just like Johnny had asked.

"Feels good, so close." You admit, voice not above a whisper as you get hypnotised by the sparkling blue eyes that are hidden by hooded lids.

Johnny is looking at you like he's going to devour you, and all you've done so far is rub your slick cunt all over his thigh. You shiver with the thought of just how much more intensity can build between you—you wonder how you're going to survive it.

"Needy pup, want ye tae cum fer me. Jus' fer me." One of Johnny's hands now cups your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his as you continue to writhe wildly against him.

His words push you so much closer, your brain waiting for his word as you try your hardest to not cum even a second before he tells you too.

"Can ye do that, pet?"

You nod mindlessly as your body goes into overdrive, the pressure making your body coil tighter as your brain finally fizzles out of any coherent thought. All you can do is keep your eyes fixed on Johnny, as you replay his words over and over in your head.

Pet. Pup. Hump. Whine.

Operating entirely on instinct, your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as you pant and whine—right on the edge, waiting. As if in your thoughts, Johnny senses that you're right at the edge, as his thigh tenses to be the perfect surface for you to rub against, and his hand forces your cunt down even more snugly before.

"Pretty pup, tha's it." He coos, voice dripping with sweet, gentle authority. "Cum fer me."

With his command finally whispered, you buck one more and fly over the edge, straight into the ecstasy of a blinding orgasm—one that's weeks in the making.

Johnny continues to coax you through it, whispered praise and encouragement accompanying every little aftershock until you practically collapse against his chest.

"Oh my god, that was..." You struggle to breathe, still struggle to think as you sink into Johnny's embrace. "I needed that, thank you."

Soft touches adorn every inch of your body, Johnny petting you sweetly and embracing the sensitivity of your skin in the afterglow. "My pleasure. Ye were such a good girl fer me."

"Sorry about your jeans. And you not—"

Johnny doesn't let you finish your unnecessary apologies. "Dinnae be."

He pulls you even closer, arms wrapping around your waist and back and holding you in a tight, reassuring embrace as the both of you come back down to normalcy. You can practically feel the smile on Johnny's lips with every kiss against your forehead, and his unbridled joy is still radiating off of him when you finally lean up to reconnect your lips with his.

After a few sweet pecks, you find yourself burrowing back into his chest as you try to suppress a yawn.

"Tired, bonnie?" Johnny asks, voice quiet.

You respond simply with a gentle nod.

"Let's get you to bed, then." He chuckles, tapping the backs of your thighs to encourage you to stand.

You can't help but whine just a little, entirely resistant to moving even if Johnny's bed is only a short walk away. "It's too early to sleep." You try to reason, even if you have no clue of the time.

Johnny presses another kiss to your forehead—his smirk cheeky and eyes bright. "Who said we'd be sleeping?"

With assistance from Johnny, you sleepily stumble to his bedroom and immediately plop yourself down on the edge of the mattress while Johnny fetches your forgotten bags from the entryway.

Your orgasm has left you a little boneless and ignited an even stronger craving for connection with Johnny. He parts from you for even a moment, and your body calls out to be cuddled up with him again.

Luckily, he returns quickly, setting the bag down beside you so you can sleepily rifle through the bag for your pyjamas.

When you finally locate the silky set, you urge yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom. Johnny stops you by the wrists before you can reach the door.

"Where are ye going?" He asks, an adorable look of confusion on his face.

"To get changed." You explain, trying to stop your voice from trembling with nerves. Despite just cumming on this man's thigh, there's something startling about the vulnerability of changing before him that makes your walls shoot up and your body stiffen.

Johnny's thumb runs over your wrist, as his expression softens, and he releases his hold.

"'s okay." He nods, turning to grab his own pyjama bottoms and beating you out of the door to the bathroom, leaving you in the comfort of his room. "Shout me when yer done, aye?"

The door clicks shut behind Johnny, as your heart fills with warmth at his easy and sweet accommodation of you.

You slip off your dress first, folding it semi-neatly and slipping into the bag before you opt to slip off your panties too—they're still soaked through from your earlier activities and were clinging to your folds almost uncomfortably. You quickly shimmy on the matching silk set—cute shorts with a cami top, as you try to remember the confidence you felt when trying the set on.

You call out to Johnny, beckoning him back into the room and hoping his reaction to your outfit is everything you could hope for.

When Johnny slips round the door, his eyes almost jump out of his head—though you're sure yours are doing the same. "Fuckin' christ, bonnie."

Your eyes rake down Johnny's body just as he does you—his chest is bare, and his plaid pyjama bottoms are slung low on his hips. You can't tear your eyes away, as they dart around taking in every little feature—the broad muscles, slight dusting of hair, or constellation of scars and freckles all down his torso. It's hard to decide which part of him is the most delicious, the most deserving of your eyes' attention.

"Christ yourself." You whisper, completely in awe.

Johnny steps forward, taking your hands in his and pulling you into his warmth. His smile is adoring, his eyes showing nothing but reverence as he takes in every detail of you—you wonder if he's recognised just what you've done.

"You look so good, I wanna eat you." His words are purred into your neck as he presses kisses along your skin, and his hands slip all over your silky skin and barely-there clothes. His hands find their way to the hem of your top, pausing slightly as if asking for consent.

"Johnny..." You whine as you turn your head nervously, shielding your embarrassed expression from view and desperately hoping you don't have to explain yourself further.

He cups your jaw tenderly, without any intention of turning you to face him. His voice is just as considerate. "Nervous?"

"I know it's silly, but..." You trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

I'm scared you won't like what you see.

I'm scared you'll leave once you get what you want.

I'm scared I won't compare to what you imagined, to what you deserve.

Johnny can sense it all, or at least some of it—as his eyes briefly flare with intense worry. He pulls away before you can ask, flicking the light switch and plunging you both into inky darkness—the room only illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights.

"How's this, hen?" He asks, finding his way back to you.

Somehow, the barely-there lighting of the room feels like a safety blanket—a joyous hiding-in-the-pillow fort feeling, instead of being subjected to a spotlight that seems to amplify all your insecurities.

"Better." Your smile is genuine as you reposition atop the bed, pulling Johnny with you gently as you seek comfort. The two of you scramble up the bed, laying over the covers and facing each other—just inside each other's embrace.

Johnny's handsome features are visible enough in the dim, with his easy smile still lighting up the room. "Will just have to feel ma way around... if tha's okay."

"Touch but don't look, instead of the other way around." You laugh, the act releasing some of your pent-up worry. Your hand chases Johnny's, moving it from the bed to your body and encouraging him to touch you. "Sounds good to me."

"That's ma girl. Ye feel fucking divine." He sighs his words into your skin, leaning forward for a kiss as his hand dips under the fabric of your top and rests on the curve of your waist. His thumb still appreciatively strokes across the satin of your pyjamas.

"I bought these just for you." You admit, voice a soft whisper.

"Did ye pick the colour of my eyes on purpose, pet?"

So he had noticed, you think. "Yeah..."

Johnny's easy expression falters for a moment, his usual confidence wavering in the face of such a heartfelt act.

"Fuckin' christ." His hand squeezes at your side as he lets out a shaky sigh. "And as if I wasn't hard enough."

"Oh?" Your hand reaches out to rest on Johnny's chest, fingers raking down slightly on your path of exploration, headed straight for the waistband of his bottoms where your ignited curiosity is focused.

Your fingers itch to feel his cock again, remembering how deliciously hard and huge he had felt under your touch in the café. This time, you could feel him without reservation, and experience exactly the effect you have on him without any barriers of material or propriety.

His eyebrow arches at the action, and his eyes sparkle interest. "Bonnie, where's tha' hand going?"

"I wanna feel it, please." You whisper, accompanying your words with a teasing touch as you slip your thumb under the waistband and tug at the elastic.

Another tremulous exhale passes his lips before he pulls the lower one between his teeth. "When ye beg like tha’, how can I say no?"

Your hand dives below his waistband as you eagerly wrap your hand around the satiny smooth skin of his cock—feeling the bulging veins and the way the tip leaks with sticky pre.

“Fuck.” You continue to explore his length, stroking slowly and reverently as you watch his face for his reactions—relishing in each quiver of his brows or flutter of his lashes. “Honestly, I don't know how I got this far without begging you to show it to me.”

He chuckles as his hips buck slightly to meet your touch, frenetic energy building inside of him. “Guess for now you’ll just have to keep feelin’. Make up fer lost time.”

“Johnny…”

“Yes, puppy?”

You stroke down to the base, gripping it firmly for a moment as you speak. "There's no way you're fitting that inside me—"

Johnny's eyes flare with ravenous need, his smile turning delightfully sinful before he devours your protests with a messy kiss—a hand gripping at your chin.

"Shhh, I know that pretty cunny can take me." He purrs his words into your mouth, forcing you to practically swallow them and all of their intensity. "When the time comes, we'll go slow. I'll take care of ye, train my puppy to take me."

Your body squirms involuntarily, arousal and surrender washing over you in waves as Johnny's authoritative tone melts you back into a submissive headspace.

"Your mouth is evil, Johnny." You whine and shiver. "You know what you do to me, right?"

"I have an idea." He smirks, as the hand gripping your down trails down your neck and over your body before stopping at your waistband for permission. "Wouldnae mind more of one, though, if tha's okay."

"Please."

It's impossible to hold back your gasp as Johnny's thick fingers finally slide in between your soaked folds and make contact with your sensitive clit.

He swipes through your wetness repeatedly, dipping down to tease at your entrance before pulling more slick over your clit and swirling it easily with his fingers. You curl into him slightly, forehead falling against his as your legs fall apart, and you surrender to his touch.

Each stroke feels electric, and your hips rise and fall to chase every little sensation you get from the way he explores you. You find your eyes drifting shut from the pleasure, and the need to shield yourself from the intensity of his hungry stare.

"Fuck, drippin' fer me." His voice is lower, coming from deeper in his chest, as you feel his dick throb. He's stopped rutting into your hand, instead focused entirely on you.

"... When I got home after our date, I was soaked right through." You admit, voice shaky and unsteady and wracked with pleasure. The glow radiates outwards from your core, coiling in your stomach. Despite your earlier release, your need is still overwhelming—Johnny's touch feeling better than anything you've felt in so long.

"Always makin' a mess. Making a mess on ma fingers right now."

"I can't help it." You whimper helplessly, and even more so when Johnny's fingers withdraw from your folds and leave your cunt aching for him.

Your eyes fly open in time to watch him take the soaked digits in his mouth, cleaning your mess off of them with his tongue as he gives you an intense, unwavering look that makes your cheeks blaze.

"Taste heavenly, bonnie. Think I need more of a taste, though." He grins, his eyes raging with a hunger that makes your stomach flip.

"Fuck," You sigh, wanting his mouth on you and yet feeling a sense of guilt for even thinking about letting him. "I... I should get you off first."

You return to stroking his length, your movements having stilled as he had focused on you, but his hand moves to grip your wrist—stilling it in its tracks.

"Lass, if you give me the word, there's nothin' coming between me and eating tha' kitty of yours. Not even my own cock."

The certainty in his tone and his look almost have you convinced, but that niggle of insecurity and worry still lingers in the back of your mind, urging you to deny yourself of the pleasures Johnny can give you.

"I don't usually..." You trail off, struggling to finish your sentence. Part of you wants to say you don't let guys go down on you, but it's not like the last one even cared to offer.

You haven't even told Johnny any details, yet he seems enthusiastic enough to compensate for any of the experiences you've had in the past.

His expression cycles through a myriad of emotions—confusion, sadness, and anger, before he settles on a soft yet determined look.

"Do you want me to go down on ye?"

"Yes." Your answer slips out far too quickly, but the thought of his mouth on your cunt makes your head spin.

His hand returns to cup your cheek, stroking reassuringly as his eyes plead with you. "Then please, bonnie."

You swallow, pushing away the voices in the back of your head as you nod, and Johnny scrambles down the bed.

He pulls down your shorts and tosses them aside, before his arms wrap around your thighs to pull them apart. His lips quickly find their way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and licking and biting ever so slightly as you squirm helplessly beneath him.

His muscular arms keep your lower body exactly where he wants you, as his kisses move higher and higher before they press the outside of your folds and make you cry out.

"Poor little neglected kitty." He coos, before pressing more kisses to your lips.

"Johnny—"

"Shh." He interrupts you sharply yet playfully, looking up from between your legs and fixing you with a light-hearted glare. "Am making introductions."

He refocuses his attention back on your cunt, a hand moving so he can stroke his thumb back and forth over your sensitive nub while he coos sweet nothings into your centre.

"Need someone to take care of ye? I'm a good owner, promise." He dives in and captures your clit in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking slightly before pulling off with a pop. "Know how tae play with ye just right."

It's overwhelming, the way he talks and the fact he's talking to your cunt like it's separate from you, and yet something he's just enamoured with.

He starts eating you in earnest, tongue swiping up and down your folds, stubble rubbing against your skin—sweet, hot pleasure trickles through you with every little sensation, and you know you're not going to last long under Johnny's mouth.

"Fuck, can't wait to see ye properly. Pretty pussy, all fer me."

He dives back in, all tongue and lips and slick, wet heat as he makes love to your clit and folds with his mouth—drawing out every whine and whimper you're capable of making.

"Oh my god," You gasp, hand falling to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair. "You're so good fucking with your tongue."

When he pulls back to talk, his lips glisten with your arousal. "'m not just talk, bonnie. Think ye can take my fingers too?"

"Please, please." You beg, almost urging him back to your core as his fingers circle your entrance before slowly sinking in.

The two digits stretch you slowly, getting you accustomed to the assault before his tongue is on your clit again, all of him working in tandem to make you shiver and squirm. Your cunt squelches with each thrust and lick, Johnny forcing more arousal to leak from your pretty hole as he lavishes you with attention and pleasure.

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, though his eyes don't meet yours.

"Do you mean me or..." You swallow nervously, shyness overtaking you as you summon the words to address yourself. "...her?"

"Both of ye." He growls, before feasting with renewed fervour.

You've never had a man eat you like this in your life, as Johnny drinks your nectar like he needs it to survive, and caresses your insides with the most reverent touch. His has you completely undone beneath him, moaning loud enough to disturb the neighbours and racing towards your peak in record time.

Your legs shake against his hold, your hips naturally rising to meet his mouth as your pleasure builds and builds, pushing you ever further toward ecstasy.

"I'm close." You whimper when the precipice arrives, and Johnny doesn't hold back in the slightest.

"Cum fer me." He mumbles, before sucking you over the edge. Your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head as you explode under his tongue and clench around his thick fingers.

His attention doesn't wane until he's wrung every little bit of pleasure out of your quivering body. "Mhmmm. Good girl."

He presses one last kiss to your clit, bidding her goodbye before he gently slides your shorts back up your legs and joins you at the head of the bed.

"Fuck..."

The afterglow flows through you like lava in your veins, filling you with a warmth that only grows as Johnny strokes your face.

"Can I kiss ye?" He asks, his lips hovering just a fraction from your own.

"I need you to. I'll just ignore the taste of myself."

"Your loss."

He closes the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, one so achingly sweet you pay no mind to the taste of yourself on your tongue.

Johnny continues to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, making you breathless once more.

You find yourself having to turn away from the kiss to bury your head into the pillow as you stifle an overwhelming yawn.

"Tired fer real now, sweetheart?" Johnny whispers, chasing you to press kisses to the side of your head.

You turn back to face Johnny, noses almost brushing together as you give the slightest confirmatory nod. "'m a little sleepy."

Johnny rushes to slide off the bed, throw back the covers, and position himself on his back. He pats his chest in invitation, smiling at you ever so sweetly. "Your pillow awaits. Non-negotiable, aye?"

It takes a little bit of shuffling on both behalves to get you settled under the covers and snuggled up to the warmth and comfort that is Johnny's chest. Your cheek is pressed to his pec as your arm settles across his torso—he loops an arm around your back and pulls the other one over his body, holding the thigh that rests over his hips.

You cuddle in closer, relishing the way your bodies fit together, and the way his chest cradles your head so perfectly. "Mhm. Comfy pillow."

"I'm glad—"

You interrupt him immediately, your hand coming up to smooth over his chest and squeeze appreciatively.

"Shh." You whisper condescendingly, imitating Johnny's tone from earlier when he was between your legs. "I'm making introductions."

His chest rumbles with a laugh, as he lets you get well acquainted with his pecs. "Brat."

Your eyes quickly slip shut, your hand stilling of any further movement. Johnny's voice is a sweet whisper from above you as you drift out of consciousness.

"Sweet dreams, bonnie."

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months ago

Text

✨On My Knees for You✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a fic for a while that was all about making Joel Miller feel good. So thank you to @lotusbxtch and @mountainsandmayhem for feeding me ideas and letting me scream with you about this one 🩵 I wrote this one for my Halloween writing event!

This is a one-shot for my series Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller. It takes place a little over a year into their relationship. I hope you enjoy these two love birds! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading 🩵

Summary: You’re supposed to be getting ready for a Halloween party, but maybe you’ll just have to be late because all you can think about is getting on your knees and making Joel Miller feel so good.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Porn with plot, getting ready for a Halloween party, angel and devil couples costumes, cock/ball worshipping, deepthroating, dirty talking, pet names, use of daddy, no use y/n, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), teasing

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sparkles shimmer across your light pink eyeshadow, sprinkling down your glowing cheeks. Dark red lipstick stains your lips a cherry-coated color. The black eyeliner that’s sharpened into pointy cat eyes makes your eyes pop under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Your hair spirals into perfect waves as you adjust the halo that sits atop the crown of your head. With one more spritz of cotton candy perfume, you’re ready for the Halloween party.

When you exit the bathroom, you linger in the full-length mirror, adjusting the feathery wings that lay flat against your back. You circle slowly, examining your lacey angel costume for the Halloween party. One that Joel was taking you to, even if he wasn’t normally one to get excited to dress up or participate in Halloween parties. He was doing it for you. Plus, you might’ve got Tommy and Maria to convince him to go.

He eventually gave in after a few times of pressing, but he’d never say no to you. He was always going to go, if that’s what you wanted. Because he loves you and would do just about anything for you, even wear matching couples costumes. One an angel, the other a devil.

You giggle as you think of the events that unraveled over the past few months. Joel Miller, your father’s best friend, the man who was off-limits to you for so long was now your boyfriend. It was all a silly little flirting game until it wasn’t. All that changed when he gave in and kissed you under his living room lights a little over a year ago. Back when he gave you that handsy guitar lesson that turned into crowding your body and fucking you relentlessly into the leather of his couch.

You still remember it so clearly. Just like it was yesterday. His plush lips nipping at your delicate neck, licking flames into your sweat-coated skin. His meaty hands teasing up your thighs, enticing words making you give in, his smoldering eyes lighting you on fire as he slipped two fingers beneath your drenched lace. And then, you were gone.

And now? The two of you were unstoppable, unbreakable. Two flames that couldn’t burn without the other. He was your favorite part of every day. Your infinite. Even if your father wasn’t thrilled when he found out, he eventually came around. And now, Joel Miller was all yours.

The almost sheer mini skirt barely grazes the tops of your thighs, your thigh-high shimmering tights teasing your tanned skin. The white satin corset hugs your curves tightly, silk ribbon spilling underneath your pushed-up breasts, sparkly heels flashing diamonds under the dim lights of Joel’s room.

He’s going to absolutely lose it when he sees you in this sexy getup. Especially when he gets a peek at your new lacey white panties. The ones you’re hoping he’ll rip off later tonight.

You hear him shuffling around downstairs, truck keys jangling by the front door, leather boots making their way toward the staircase. Suddenly, you have the best idea. A little Halloween treat to satisfy his hunger. The kind of surprise that’ll leave him tongue tied and speechless.

You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, letting the navy comforter pull up your mini skirt higher, almost exposing your brand new lingerie. You arch your back, lean against your hands and wait with bated breath for him to find you all splayed out just for him. Like a present he’ll get to savor over and unwrap slowly.

You can’t wait to see his reaction.

His heavy footsteps shake beneath the wooden steps, voice deep and booming as he shouts up to the bedroom. “Baby, you almost ready? Think Tommy’s gonna beat us there.”

“Mhm. Can you come here for a second? Need a little help with something,” you call out, pushing your breasts together so he gets the best view of your sexy Halloween costume.

It was your idea to go as an angel this year, and Joel chose to be a handsome devil. And God, he was handsome alright. Even if he chose to wear his favorite green flannel and dark blue jeans. He pulled it off just fine with red devil horns and a glowing pitchfork.

Two more steps and he’s turning right into the room, his broad body filling the expanse of the doorframe. “Okay, sweetheart. But we gotta… go.” He freezes in the doorway, wide brown eyes gawking at you as his mouth drops to the floor.

And… jackpot.

“Surprise,” you say in a lilty voice, biting your bottom lip to tease him even more. Get the blood pumping in just the right places.

“Baby, you’re—you’re…” He drops the plastic pitchfork to the floor with a bang, his mouth hanging open like a thirsty hound dog.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” you tease, sliding your heels along the grey carpet, eyefucking him while you lick your bottom lip enticingly slow.

That does it right there. You can see it in his glassy brown irises. He’s done for.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart. That outfit. It’s—fuck,” he replies, voice husky and shaky from your relentless teasing.

“You like it?” You cock your head and give him a sexy smirk, eyelashes fluttering his way.

He takes a step inside the room and drags a palm over his patchy beard slowly, his eyes gliding down your body like he’s memorizing every single inch of you. “Baby, I don’t like it. I love it. Never seen such a pretty angel look so sexy before. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you beautiful girl.”

“Bought it just for you. And these…” You slowly spread your legs, exposing the lacy panties that are now slick and wet from anticipation of him seeing you.

He audibly groans, curses under his breath as he takes a few steps forward, mouth dropped as his eyes slide over your core.

“Don’t you dare start that. Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls, his towering body hovering over yours like he’s about to pin you down on the bed. “‘Cause if you do, we ain’t leavin’ this house for another hour.”

You lift your leg and push him back with your bedazzled heel, making him back up a few steps so you can slide down to the floor. He looks at you with questions swirling in his caramel pools, one eyebrow arching as he watches you get on all fours. He mutters a curse under his breath when he realizes what you’re doing.

You’re teasing the hell out of him.

“I just want to do one thing first,” you whisper, voice low as you start to crawl toward him, dragging your hands and knees unhurriedly, clawing the soft carpet until you’re right beneath his looming form.

Your hands languidly snake up his legs, fingernails digging into the denim of his jeans, leisurely making your way to the jagged zipper.

“Baby…” he mutters, choking out when you start palming him through his jeans.

“Joel,” you smirk, working his hard length through the material of his blue jeans. You’re basically drooling at the feel of his thick bulge against the palm of your hand. Can already tell how badly he wants you.

God, it makes more slick run down the gusset of your white lace.

“We’re gonna be late,” he breathes heavily as you pop his top button open and lazily drag the zipper down.

“So, we’ll be late,” you whisper, smiling up at him while you bite your bottom lip seductively. Your hands pull his leather belt through the belt loops, and then you start to shimmy his jeans and black boxers down to the ground.

He places a hand swiftly on yours and halts you before you go any further. “You’re gonna ruin your pretty red lipstick, sweetheart,” he tries to warn, his chocolate eyes growing darker by the second.

“Then let me ruin it.” You push him down into the light brown lounge chair and tug his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free of the confines of the tight material. You gasp when you see how hard and swollen and thick he is. He looks like a fucking work of art. Art that you want to devour.

“Goddamn it,” he groans as you work his length up and down, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Sliding the precum that bubbles over his swollen red tip up and down his shaft. Just the way he likes it.

“Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you beg, teasing your tongue over the head of his cock and running it slowly over the slit. He groans as you taste his salty precum. “Wanna taste you, swallow you, choke on you.”

“Yeah?” he croaks, one hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl wants to choke on me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, licking up the underside of his cock, tongue gliding over the large vein that wraps around his thick length. “Choke me, handsome devil. Wanna gag on your fat cock.”

He grips the back of your hair roughly and pulls hard, forcing your eyes up to meet his deep black pits. But the way he’s smiling at you, a playful smirk curling over his plush mouth, tells you he’s letting you take control just as much as he is. “C’mere then. Be a good girl and wrap those pretty lips around daddy’s cock,” he chuckles darkly. You happily oblige with a smirk.

Taking your time, you kiss up the length of him, languidly flicking and swirling your tongue in circles against his angry tip. You giggle when he curses under his breath and audibly gasps when you take him deep in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you take him deeper and deeper. Until your nose is hitting his coarse, wiry hairs at the base of him, sputtering and choking as his tip kisses the back of your throat.

“Fuckkk, baby,” he whimpers while his hand holds your curls back from getting in the way.

You love to tease him, love to savor his salty flavor all over your tastebuds, let his seed run down the back of your throat when his orgasm bubbles over. You could do this all day. Get down on your knees while he takes you to church with his thick cock thrusting deep inside your throat. Being choked never felt or tasted so good. Not until Joel Miller showed up. Not until you got that first taste of him over a year ago.

You’re addicted, obsessed with making him feel good after he gets home from work. He always makes you feel good, so there’s nothing you love better than making him feel twice as good. He’s a good man, the best you’ve ever had. Now it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you.

You gag around his hard cock, sputtering as you pull your mouth away, leaving behind a bead of drool that connects from your puffy lower lip and ends at his swollen tip. Your eyes are watery, mascara clumped on your wet eyelashes, and you feel how smeared your red lipstick is. But never mind that because Joel’s looking down at you like you’re the shiniest diamond in the world, pupils blown out and a cheeky grin plastered on his mouth.

“Feel good, daddy?” you ask, hand sliding in smooth motions over his massive cock, tongue licking at the bottom of one of his balls while you continue to fist him up and down, smearing more precum and drool in the process.

He hisses when you begin to suck, drool caking his skin while you start giving the other one attention with your other hand, squeezing and licking back and forth. “Yeah. Feels real good, babygirl. Makin’ daddy feel so good,” he moans while you massage his balls and work your tongue back up his shaft, leaving red lipstick marks all down his ballsack.

You fucking love worshipping his cock, his balls, his everything. And you love the way he moans, bucks his hips when you deepthroat him, mutters out curses when he’s so close to coming undone. You savor his salty taste, memorize his guttural groans, praise the way he moans your name when he’s thrusting deep inside your throat.

You just love him. And you love making the man cum.

Deciding to tease him more, you flick your tongue in tantalizing circles, right over his most sensitive spot where his slit pumps more precum out.

“Babygirl,” he warns in a husky voice, a deep growl biting at the edge of his throat.

“Yes, daddy?” you ask innocently, batting your long eyelashes up at the love of your life.

“I’m gonna need ya to stop teasin’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs, eyes slightly narrowed.

You giggle, popping him out of your mouth for just a second to catch your breath. “Or what?” you challenge, hoping he’ll catch on or give you what you both want.

“You know what,” he smirks, his fingers tangling around your loose curls tightly and drawing you closer.

You tick your head to the side and smirk while he matches your fiery stare. He wants it just as badly as you do because you fucking love to swallow him. “Is the big bad devil going to choke me?”

“Mhm. That’s right, angel. The devil’s gonna choke you alright.” He pushes your head down until your lips are molded to his cock, driving you down down down until you’re gasping for breath. When he brings you back up for air, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his mouth you’ve ever seen.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ droolin’ and makin’ a mess on my cock, babygirl,” he smirks, pupils blown wide as he takes in your tear-soaked face.

“Mhm. Your mess,” you breathe out with a gasp.

He chuckles and nods his head, his tousled curls now messy and disheveled against his sweat-drenched forehead. “That’s right, love. My mess,” he smiles, his light brown irises glistening under his blown-out pupils. “Wanna deepthroat me, sweetheart?”

You nod up at him with tired eyes, wanting nothing more than to make him cum. “Yes, daddy,” you mewl.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises.

You settle your palms on his strong thighs, hovering just above his swollen tip. He repositions his hand and fists your hair gently, slowly pulling you back down until you’re sliding your pursed lips over his thick length, taking in his deep musk that masks the stifling air.

Taking a deep breath, you get in position and let him work you up and down his length, his hips starting to rut up until he’s fucking your mouth at a rapid pace. You hollow your cheeks, suck him deeper as he thrusts his cock in and out, making you gurgle and gag around his thick width.

“Jesus Christ, takin’ me like such a good girl. Feels—fuck. Feels good, baby. You still okay?” he chokes out, sweat beading down his tanned forehead as you squeeze his thigh and look up at him through watery eyes. The signal you give him to show him you’re just fine.

“I’m so… goddamn it. Need to feel you,” he groans, fucking his cock deeper down your throat. As deep as he can go without suffocating you. You just take it, let him pull your hair forcefully, let him hear just how full of him you are, let him use you to get the release he deserves.

“I’m ’bout to… ‘bout to cum. Ahhhh fuck. Right there. I’m right fuckin’ there,” he moans, throwing his head back as he fucks your throat relentlessly.

The room starts to spin like a tornado as he shoves you down, deepthroating you as much as you can take. Drool coats your chin. Sputtering, obscene noises fill the room as your throat constricts around his fat cock. You have to breathe through your nose to get any airflow because you’re suffocating.

Your vision blackens, throat so full of drool and his cock that you think you’ll pass out. Think you might just see heaven’s gates before Joel orgasms.

Just when you think you’re done for, Joel’s guttural groans pull you out of the fog. Your nose nudges against his coarse hair, lips molded around his huge width, throat open and squeezing around him as tears stream down your ruined face.

“That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you—want you to swallow,” he moans, fingers locked tight in your hair, pulling your head down until you feel him start to spill.

“Right there. Right—ahhhh fuck.” He’s coming undone, hot ropes of cum leaking down your throat. That salty taste that makes you cross your eyes and suck him down.

You can’t feel anything but his seed coating your throat, cum spilling over your smeared red lips, drool caking your chin and sliding down his balls. He’s fucking wrecked. Just like you are.

You stay right there, hands firmly on his thighs, lapping up the delicious salt of him until he’s slowly coming back down from his high. And then you’re slowly getting pulled off his long length, drool coating his softening cock.

You sputter out, coughing violently from being choked by Joel’s thick cock. His large hand glides between your shoulder blades, trying to help you swallow it all down, get ahold of yourself once more. And when you finally feel like you can breathe the stifling air, you collapse against his thigh, cheek pressed against tanned skin as you focus on deep breaths.

You feel his hand gently massage the back of your scalp, rubbing light circles on the crown of your head as he whispers for you to relax. It feels good. Feels relaxing when he’s caressing you like this. Like you’re his best girl.

You are his best girl.

“Easy now, baby. Jus’ breathe. Did so good for me,” he coos, fingers lacing through your now messy curls. You know you’re a fucking mess, but you just don’t care.

“Did I make you feel good, daddy?” you ask, speech a little slurred and voice hoarse from deepthroating Joel.

He lifts your chin up, index finger and thumb stroking your skin, starting a warm flame kindling in your body. When you lift your eyes, you’re met with warm, syrupy eyes. Eyes that you fell in love with the moment you saw them that first day at the lake.

His smile is so warm, so big. He looks like he has stars in his brown eyes the way he’s looking at you. All in love while his thumb caresses lovingly against your cheek. “Mhm. Made daddy feel real good, pretty girl,” he grins, eyes shimmering like onyx under the dim lights.

God, you love this man.

“Yeah?” you ask, giggling when he leans down and gets right at eye level with you, a huge smile curling over his plush mouth.

“Yeah,” he confirms, pushing a loose curl behind your ear before he pulls you into his broad body. His lips crash against yours. His whiskey taste serenading your tongue, woodsy scent making you heated and dizzy from the smell of him. He’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Addicting and dangerous but yet bottled up with love and care.

When he pulls away from you, he smirks, hand trailing down your breasts, going south until he’s trying to slide between your thighs. “Now, let me take care of this—”

You stop him right there, shoving his hand away with a tsk. “We need to go, baby. We’ll be late.”

“But I…”

“Later,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, brushing your lips against warm skin and leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

He chuckles and nods, teasing his calloused fingers along the nape of your neck. “Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ know that when we get home tonight, I’m takin’ real good care of that pussy. Understand?” He gives you that look. The one that makes your skin tingle and clit pulse with need. You’re going to suffer through this entire Halloween party if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Understood, handsome. You going to do that one thing? You know, that special trick with your tongue. What do you call it? Tongue twister,” you giggle while he throws back his head and lets out a belly-aching chuckle. One that makes warmth bubble up inside you. You could listen to him laugh for hours. That melodic, carefree sound. You love to see him happy.

He wipes off some of the drool and red lipstick on the sleeve of his flannel, laughing as he cleans you off. “You’re such a mess. You know that?”

You give him a big toothy smile and nod. “Mhm. You love it, though.”

He sighs and shakes his head, chuckling while he strokes his thumb under the bottom of your lip. “Mmm, yeah. I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Joel,” you murmur, eyes glossy. You’re so in love. You give him a quick peck to the cheek and smile up at him, like he’s your entire world.

He scoops you up off the floor and leads you to the bathroom, littering kisses up and down your jawline. “C’mon. Let’s get your cleaned up before we go. Don’t need ‘em knowin’ what we’ve been doin’ tonight,” he laughs.

After he cleans you off with a warm washcloth, you fix your costume and hair. Red lips glossy again, halo straight, wings flat against your back, corset back in place, miniskirt grazing your thighs. And then he takes your hand and leads you down the stairs, into his truck, and to the party.

Halloween parties were always something you loved, but what you loved more was making Joel Miller, the love of your life, feel good. And that’s exactly what you did tonight.

You made his entire Halloween once again.

Tagging a few moots 🩵 @almostfoxglove @almostempty @magpiepills @sanarsi @ace-turned-confused

@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn @burntheedges

#joel miller x you #dbf!joel #joel miller #kinktober #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel x female reader #Jamie’s Halloween writing challenge

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razorblade180 · 4 months ago

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Home Warfare

Ruby:*on call* …(Maybe he’s busy?)

Jaune:Hello?

Ruby:!? S-Sup! Just checking in. How was the flight back home?

Jaune:My stomach has stopped flipping. It’s the little victories that matter.

Ruby:I still can’t believe you went back home for break. Isn’t it your first time back since…lying?

Jaune:Yeah, but it’s not like they know that part. Plus I’ve kept in contact. You’re not going back to Patch?

Ruby:Yang did. Dad is actually taking a mission so if o went back I’m basically house sitting.

Jaune:You don’t want to see your old friends?

Ruby:I can do that when I pick up Yang. Making a big deal out of it feels awkward. Have you been smothered with affection yet?

Jaune:What do you mean?

Ruby:It must be a big deal continuing your families legacy; especially in your hometown.

Jaune:Probably, if I meant anything.

Ruby:Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?

Jaune:Just because I’m at Beacon doesn’t mean anything. Not like my grades are stellar or I’m a different person. Still the bullied twerp that left and the son with low expectations. I’m only really here because I have to come back eventually.

Ruby:….

Jaune:Ruby?

Ruby:I could’ve went with you.

Jaune:That’s nice, but why would you?

Ruby:Because you sound miserable! It’s not like I’m doing anything. I can’t do too much about people giving you a hard time but showing up with a new friend has to mean something.

Jaune:I gotta be honest…you being here would make this place bearable. I honestly forgot how…small it felt being here at times.

Ruby:Would you like me to be there? I can take an airship tomorrow, seriously.

Jaune:If it’s really okay, sure. I’d love to see you.

Ruby:Cool. I’ll be your moral support!

Jaune:Haha, thanks. Well I have to go. Dinner is almost ready. Wish me luck.

Ruby:Good luck! *hangs up*

Weiss:*walks in* Oh, you’re still here.

Ruby:It’s our dorm! Why wouldn’t I be!?

Weiss:What I meant is I thought you’d be running around doing anything but being a hermit. Even Blake took a trip.

Ruby:…Weiss? I have an offer you can’t refuse. One that involves the mall, your opinion, and freedom from me.

Weiss:Go on.

xxxxxxx

The next day, out in town

Papa Arc:So what exactly was your role in all that again?

Jaune:I came up with the plan against the DeathStalker.

Papa Arc:Can you really consider a couple callouts a plan? Especially when you didn’t lead the charge?

Mama Arc: Harold! Leave him alone! I think it’s great he’s trying.

Harold:Persephone, trying is one thing, achieving is another. Can’t have him getting full of himself.

Jaune:(Or having any confidence at all.)

Persephone: The year has only really just begun. There’s leaps and bounds a C-student like our boy can make given enough time and focus, hopefully.

Jaune:…

???:He’s actually a B-student thanks to me.

Jaune’s head perked up. He recognized that voice anywhere. He turned around to greet Ruby but was left speechless the moment his eyes found her.

Combat boots were abandoned for red flats. The leggings he had known her for were abandoned for black thigh-highs with rose petals on them. The combat skirt had been stolen and replaced with black jean shorts with a red belt while her corset was swapped for a half shirt with long sleeves that went just past her hands. Jaune might not have recognized Ruby if not for the cloak!

The girl’s hair was noticeably a little wavy and a rose clip kept her bangs out of her face which showed off a modest amount of dark eye shadow that matched new lipstick. It went with her black fingernail polish he noticed as she waved with her left while rolling her luggage over.

Jaune:R-Ruby?

Ruby:Hello~ fancy seeing you here. Although I do remember saying you’d be visiting your dear family. I guess these are your parents! Hi! He’s mentioned wonderful things about you.

Persephone:And not enough about you! Ruby, was it?

Ruby:Yep! Ruby Rose. Jaune’s actually the first person helpful person I met at Beacon; as well as my dorm neighbor. We’re always comparing notes and helping one another as leaders of our teams.

Harold:You’re also a leader of a team?

Ruby:R-W-B-Y. Team RWBY. Hehe, I know I probably don’t look that impressive but I promise you, I know my way around the battlefield.

Harold:…You said my son is B-student now.

Ruby:Mmhm. He has a better memory for history than I do so as token of appreciation, I helped him with Grimm anatomy and practical skills. Your son is quite a fast learner. You must be so proud.

Jaune:I-

Harold:Well he has his ups and downs but of course he has his merits.

Persephone:Anyways…what brings you all the from Beacon?

Ruby:There’s a weapons convention not too far from here. I’m a real nerd for this stuff. Figured I could use my break to stay a couple days and check the exhibit. Is the Arc family presenting any armor or swords?

Harold:You know our history.

Ruby:Of course. I know your son, and he’s quite proud of it the same way I’m proud of my mother and her accomplishments. It’s probably why we get along so well, besides him being raised well. Take it from me, there’s some real jerks that let linage go to their heads.

Persephone:Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing! Jaune! I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned her more!

Jaune:I said I was making friends who get me.

Persephone:Ruby? Is your inner room already booked? If not, you can gladly stay with us while you’re here.

Ruby and Jaune: What?

Persephone:It’s not a problem at all. We never get to meet Jaune’s friends and you must only make so much money while being students. We have plates to spare. Isn’t that right Harold?

Harold:Yes, I’m…curious to know more things about my son.

Ruby:Well…if you insist.

Persephone:Wonderful! We will set things up and take your stuff now. Jaune, show Ruby around the town.

With no more room to negotiate, Ruby gives her things to Jaune’s parents and watch them get far enough away before letting out a sigh. Coincidentally, he did the same.

Ruby:No offense to your parents, but I’m really impressed how nice you are. I heard a little bit of the conversation before I said anything. They’re…a real piece of work. They look like they mean well though.

Jaune:You aren’t wrong. Thanks for showing up when you did. By the way… what’s with the new look?

Ruby:It’s like I said, I’m good on the battlefield. I figured the best way to shut up your hometown enemies was to give them something to shut up about. I’m not one for fashion so i asked Weiss for help finding a look that fits me. Honestly I still think I look awkward.

Jaune:No you’re gorgeous! Like some cool goth badass that’s cu- cute.

Ruby:*red*…Hehe, well thank you. I might not look like it all the time but I really like first impressions. A few people have noticed me on the way in. Guess Weiss went a little too hard, but that works in our favor. I doubt people will pick on you as much.

Jaune:Honestly they might be jealous if they see you with me.

Ruby:Is that a problem?

Jaune:Absolutely not. It would be hilarious.

Ruby:Haha, then lead the way. Show me your old stomping grounds.

Any worries he had faded away instantly. Jaune happily took Ruby’s hand and began walking. The girl was stunned for a second before getting close enough to lean on the boy. Honestly, she could get used to this.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby lancaster

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neatwhiskeyplaguedoctor · 8 months ago

Note

Can you please do a Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair x Male Reader imagine? Where Reader is from a popular family of hybrids and tribrids, where Reader is a Vampire, a Witch and a Shapeshifter. And the three of them became roommates temporarily because there were no more available rooms for him in the boys' dormitory.

Tri-problem (Male)

Art by TanyaF2022 on X/Twitter.

You sigh as you feel the bumps of the road as the family chauffeur, Jack drives you to Nevermore Academy. You pull out your phone and start swiping on Instagram to see all your "friends" stories and whatnot. Rolling your eyes you start to block them all one by one. "Are you okay young sir?" Jack asks as he looks at you in the rearview mirror. "I told you to call me Y/N," you said annoyed. "But if you must know I'm just annoyed. Why am I being punished for something that my parents agree was the right action?" "Well, I doubt the school board was happy to hear you almost ended the life of your classmate," Jack said causing you to roll your eyes. "Please. No one would've missed him. He deserved it. He assaulted Normies to feed his ego. There is no excuse for that." "Yes, but you decided to, hex him, suck out almost two liters of his blood, and shapeshifted into a silverback gorilla to break both his arms," Jack said flatly. "And?" You said as if it wasn't a big deal. Jack just sighed.

"Well Mister L/N your father had informed me of your... predicament," Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore said as you sat across from her. "We have had your uniform custom made as your family requested but... I- uh..." she stumbled over her words causing you to raise an eyebrow. "We have no space in the boy's dormitory... and well... since you have no family in Jericho... I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the girls dormitory..." "You gotta be kidding me..."

She was indeed not kidding... here you were... standing in front of a dorm in Ophelia Hall... "Fuck my life..." You sigh and knock. Not like you had a choice all your stuff was there... "Enid. The door," you heard a flat cold muffled voice on the other side of the door "Coming~" you heard a second, sweeter warmer muffled voice. Soon the door was opened. "Hello...~ oh- I don't think I know you... have I seen around?" The girl asked her wide smile which showed off her sharp canines never faltering. She was about 5'2, had fair skin, rosy cheeks, pale blue eyes, blond hair with pink and blue tips, a pink sweater with white and maroon diamonds, a maroon skirt, and white thigh-high socks. You see that inside the dorm another girl was sitting at a desk writing in a typewriter. She had pale skin, black hair that was tied into two even braids, anthracite eyes, and a blank yet focused expression. She wore a pair of black boots, black jeans that went over the boots, a black shirt with white stripes that were slightly above her belly button, a black shirt with Ghostface on it that was the same length as the undershirt, a black vest, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Before you were able to answer the blond girl's question, the ravenette turned and looked at you, her cold piercing gaze locked with your gaze as she spoke. "Y/N L/N. Correct?" Her voice was cold and monotone. "...Y-Yeah..." You mumble as the blonde's expression lit up. "You're our new roomie!" She exclaimed grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Now inside you, we're able to see the room clearer. It was split in half, the spider web window was only halfway filled with color on, what you assume is the blonde's side, the other side had no color and was just normal glass with no tint. The blonde's side of the room was very colorful. Her bed frame was white and her blanket was splattered with multiple colors, her bed was on top of a puzzle-like rug with each piece being colored differently, ribbons were hanging from the ceiling, and a desk littered with notebooks, markers, pens, etc. A bean bag chair, posters, and so much more. The ravenette's side was the complete opposite. There was a lamp, a black cello, a black sheet music stand, a desk with a black typewriter, a black bed, and a black leather chair. All your stuff was neatly set in a corner of the room. The blonde let go of her hand as she looked at you her grin somehow wider. "My name is Enid Sinclair! I'm a Fur, AKA a werewolf! Nice to meet you roomie!" Enid said excitingly as she went to the ravenette and grabbed her cheeks making her look at you. "This is Wednesday Addams! She may look gloomy but she's a softie!" Enid exclaimed before Wednesday leaned away scowling. "...Nice to meet two..." You mumbled. "So~," Enid said as she leaned closer to you so close you could feel her breath on your face. "What are you? Fur, Scales, Fangs, Psychic, or something else?" She asked curiously. "Personal space Enid," Wednesday reprimanded her from her chair causing Enid to lean back pouting muttering "I was just asking..." under her breath. "I'm a tribrid... I'm part Vampire, Witch, and Shapeshifter," You explained as Wednesday stood from her typewriter. "Your family is known for that are they not?" Wednesday asked rhetorical. "Your family is known for giving birth to Hybrids and Tribrids," She said monotone with her cold expression. "Yeah... they are," you said as Wednesday nodded. "Weems had informed us of your... incident. Try to behave yourself," Wednesday said as she headed for the door. "Unpack and try not to make a mess of things," she said before leaving. "She always like that?" You ask. "Pretty much," replies Enid.

As the next two weeks passed you got accustomed to living with the two. You found out that Enid would try and snoop when you were on your phone or laptop to find something to put on her blog. When you caught her she blushed and turned away but after that day she would randomly ask to things, favorite color, would you rathers, song taste, etc. You got used to "Addams schedule," as Enid calls it. Basically when she did her writing when she wanted to be left alone, when she would leave for coffee, etc.

As time went on Wednesday had admitted she got used to your presence and even let you watch her write. Yoko, a fellow vampire and friend of Enid said that most Vamipres have a calming presence around them. Ironic. So since Wednesday hadn't really spent a prolonged time near vampires she was getting a heavy dose of it.

Enid on the other hand would paint your nails, do your hair, take you on friend dates, etc. You would talk to her about werewolf stuff, since you had cousins who were part werewolf you could relate in some aspects. After five months of living with the roommates, Weems came to visit.

"Hello girls, and Mr. L/N." "Yo," you did a two-finger salute from Enid's bed, your head in her lap as she dyed the tips of your hair. "I have news, one of the boys has moved out of his dorm as his parents found a suitable house in Jericho, so that means that Mr. L/N here will finally be moving to the boys' dorm. Fun!" Weems said with a smile but Enid stood up causing your head to fall onto the mattress. "What!? B-but he can't- I mean-," Enid stammered but Wednesday spoke I'm her usual monotone and cold tone. "What Enid is trying to say is we don't wish for Y/N's leave. He's been here for six months now. We have grown attached. So much so," Wednesday said as she stood from her desk and walked over to you, who had sat up. She cupped your face, causing you to raise an eyebrow, she then leaned down and kissed you softly. Her hands were cold to the touch. Her lips were soft and plush and tasted like coffee. Wednesday soon pulled away and looked at Weems. "We've started a polygamous relationship," She said as she looked at Enid who was blushing. Enid quickly walked over to you and kissed you as well. She was nervous, unlike Wednesday. Her lips were warm and soft. They also tasted like milk tea. Weems blinked a few times at this action. "W-well... this certainly complicated things..." she said as she looked at you. "I will... talk to your mother... see what she says about this...," She spoke before leaving. You were flustered and confused. The room was silent for a few seconds before Wednesday spoke. "I have him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We share Sunday." "T-that works..." Enid mumbled. "The fuck just happened?" You ask as Wednesday rolls her eyes. "You just got two girlfriends."

#male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #enid sinclair #neatwhiskeyplaguedoctor #wednesday fluff #enid fluff #enid x reader #enid x male reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Mission Control 23

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You let your hands drift down to the soldier’s neck. You’re shaking. Stop thinking. That hasn’t done you any good. It can’t. They say when you’re in life and death moment, your body takes over. That’s what you need to do right now.

You touch his high collar and feel along the front of his arm. You press your hands flat to his chest. He takes a deep breath as his hands hover around your hips. He toys with the light linen as you trace the straps of his harness. He lets you unbuckle one side, then the other.

He does stop you. He is entirely still but for the tilt of his head. He watches you strip away the leather harness and then his belt. He doesn’t react as you hand catches the pistol. Even if you were fast, you’re not a marksman and by the scars on his body, it wouldn’t be that effective.

You set it aside as his arms fall straight. You go back to him and remove his body arm, a piece at a time; shoulders, forearms, chest, thighs, calves. You didn’t realise before how much he layers on. You stack it all then take his hand. You bring him to the couch and have him sit.

You get down to undo his boots. It’s another task to keep you busy. One piece at a time. That’s it. Like counting. You set his boots aside and peel off his socks. You hiss at the sight of his bruised toe. He doesn’t flinch.

You tuck the fabric into the top of the boots and turn back to him. You stand and unzip his jacket? Shirt. It’s thick, a layer of mesh over something heavy. The high collar splits and you pull down the tab to reveal his muscled chest. You push the sleeves down and he brings his arms slightly back to help.

The weight of his gaze drapes over you. You stop and frown, touching the black and blue chafed around his shoulder, a slender gash at the center. You daintily flutter your fingers over the edge.

“Ouch.” You look at him and he blinks. You’re not sure he can feel even that.

You finish taking the jacket off. He shifts on the cushion as you lay the fabric over the rest of his things. As you return to him. He stands and tears open the front of his pants. You gulp. He’s bulging to escape.

You near and he reaches for you, keeping one hand on his fly as he squeezes the back of your neck. You whimper and grasp his wrist, patting his stomach at the same time. You show your teeth in pain.

“Ow, hurt,” you say. “Soft.”

You spread your hand over his and he slackens his hold on you. He stretches his fingers across the back of your head instead and you slide your palm up to his chest. You reach for his other hand and move it away from his fly. He resists but lets you take over.

You tug his pants down little by little. He exhales deeply and you push the fabric past his thick thighs. It catches at his knees. You look down and gently brush along his swollen length. He twitches and clutches your hair even tighter.

“I’ll be nice if you are,” you say.

He doesn’t react. Not that you expect a vocal answer. He just stands there, still. You reach to move his hand from your hair and urge him to sit with a careful nudge and finish removing his pants.

He is rigid and upright. You rub along his chest and shoulders. You feel his heart beating. You lightly push until he leans back.

“That’s good,” you tell him, “relax.” You meet his eyes again. They cling to you. You trail your hands down and his stomach clench. You hush and coo at him. “I said relax.”

He tenses then slowly, you feel him easing. You trace along his pelvis and thighs. He flexes but quickly shakes his head and grips the muscle along his legs as if to force them to release. You bring your hand up along his shaft and tickle up his length.

You’re alight in that moment. Do or die. No thinking. Keep going.

He goes stiff again. You put your other hand on his shoulder. You tell him again, “relax.”

His jaw squares as he watches you stroke him. Your gaze falls to the easy motion of your hand. A raspy noise rises in his throat and he pulls his hand back to brace the couch cushions.

You lean in and lift your knee onto the couch, then the other. You straddle him as you keep yourself above your hand, pumping him as he grunts. He rips his hands from the cushions and grabs the front of your dress.

He stops himself from tearing it open and instead, plucks the top button carefully. He continues down the front until your chest is exposed. He spreads a large hand over your tit and kneads. His breath rises and falls shallowly. The feel of his rough palm against your nipple plucks at you.

You balance on your knees and yank up your skirt. He keeps his hand on your chest, fondling eagerly, as his other frames your hip. He urges you down and you lead his tip along your folds. You bite your lip as you push him to your entrance and lower yourself little by little.

His fingertips dig into you and a strangle sound catches in his throat. You sink down as you drone, your nerves unwinding as you give into instinct. You clasp onto his thick arm as you take him as deep as you can and blow out between your lips.

You tilt and moan. He’s big and you’re not quite wet enough. You put your hand over his and move it from your hip along your pelvis. You guide his thumb to your clit and wiggle it, letting out a squeak at the flicker of heat. He presses more firmly and you slip your hand up your stomach.

You rock your hips and push your head back as you let the rhythm coax you. Your eyes roll into your skull and you sigh.

There is nothing but the promise of relief. No unanswered questions, no bloodstains on the floor, no wailing winds or desolate house. There is only that fleeting release that will let you feel anything but horror, if only for a split second.

#captain hydra #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #mission control #captain america #au #avengers #mcu #marvel

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eraenaa · 11 months ago

Text

One More Night (Modern AU)

Aemond Targaryen x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You were quick to leave after a one night stand, leaving Aemond dissatisfied, for he wanted so much more. When he found you again, he was sure to never let you go.

Warnings: Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Grinding, Squirting, Cum Shot, P in V sex, Overstimulation, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Submissive Reader, Not Proofread

Word Count: 3,278

Another night spent in the bar— it was not as if it was your choice. The other nights, yes, it was you who dragged your friends to your favorite spot, but for this particular night, you had planned to spend it alone in your flat. Yet, here you are once more in your third tight dress of the week and fifth drink of the night. Scanning the crowded room for an escape, suddenly growing claustrophobic even though you were happily squeezed with the other bodies the previous nights.

There was an open area to your right, a balcony overlooking the cityscape, and offered the space the dance floor did not provide. But before you headed to the empty space, you went to the bar to order another drink. Your eyes glossed over the room to look for your friends. But instead of locking with familiar eyes, your gaze was captured by the gaze of the lone eye of icy sapphire. Never had you encountered such a gaze— calculating and serious with just the tiniest hint of mirth. You removed your gaze from the man… unnerved and growing cautious as you took your fresh drink and headed out.

You stood by the glass railings, the serene city skyline before you as the music poundeed behind you. You believed you were alone but when a silky deep voice cuts through the dull music, you were proven wrong. “Do you have a light?” He asked, resisting the urge to smirk as he noticed you were slightly startled. Glossed lips parting, unconsciously making Aemond want you more. You were the first girl who caught his attention in a while. The way you almost reluctantly walked into the room with your friends dragging you along was enough for him to grow curious. God, you were gorgeous in your crimson dress and oversized leather jacket that Aemond prayed was not of your boyfriend’s. His eye quickly trailed to your luscious thighs that temptingly pressed together, then to your legs that were clad in your knee-high boots.

“Sorry, I don’t,” You answered as your eyes locked once more, and you were the first one to break contact again, returning your gaze to the skyline. You thought he had left, but you heard the click of a lighter, and the first smoke of a cigarette was quick to follow. You turned to the man with silver hair and a sapphire eye, his leather eye patch making him fearsome yet utterly attractive. “You have a lighter,” You said as he threaded closer, standing beside you, his other hand holding a cold glass. “I do,” He answered, gazing downward. You knit your brows. “Then why would you…” You trailed, confused.

Aemond shrugged; he had never felt the need to approach someone so openly and first. He usually waited for the others to come to him. But there was something about you that made Aemond feel the need to approach you first. “Needed an excuse to speak with you,” He said, finally letting his smirk slip as he noticed that a blush bloomed on your cheeks, matching the color of your dress. You hummed and tried hard to appear unaffected by his tactics, but it was hard. Never had you been so attracted to someone— a strange no less. Just looking at him made your body turn warm.

Things were quick to escalate. One moment, you and Aemond were engaging in conversation on the balcony of the club, then the next, he led you to the bar for another drink, until finally, you found yourself leaning in to kiss him. A kiss that only left both of you wanting more, and who were you to deny your bodies what they needed?

Aemond was quick to open the door of his flat and pull you in, pushing you against the wall to kiss your lips again. Pinning you up and grounding your hips against each other, finding friction that both of you desperately sought. You were distraught as Aemond placed kisses on your neck… you had never been in this situation before. You never had a one-night stand before. You thought it would not be enjoyable for you— that you could not sleep with a stranger that you met in the bar. But as Aemond cupped your breast and placed his knee in between your legs and met your cunt, you knew that you would have been collecting one-night stands like trophies if all of them were as good as Aemond. And to think, you haven’t had him inside you yet.

“Fuck… look at you, grinding on my thigh, so fucking desperate to be fucked by a stranger?” Aemond hummed with a vicious smirk as he moved his knee upward to create more pressure just to see the look of utter pleasure on your face. “Yes… Oh god,” you muttered, fastening the pace of your hips as you were so near your release. But a whine left your lips as Aemond cruelly removed his knee between your thighs. Backing away slightly, leaving you unsatisfied and wholly wanting for more. “Aemond,” You whined, but he only relished at your complaint—a chuckle leaving his lips before kissing you once again. “You’ll come when I say you come,” Aemond whispered against your lips, his eye growing dark, his hold on your waist growing tight. A whimper left your lips, and Aemond relished the sound of it.

“Do you want to come, hm, baby?” Aemond asked and tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “Only good girls get to come… will you be a good girl for me?” You nod your head fervently as his hand trailed upward your thigh, teasing you as his finger would lightly graze your cunt. “Words, sweetheart,” Aemond hummed. “Yes,” You quickly said. Aemond raised his brow as his hand trailed higher— making you think that he’d finally settle his touches on the part that needed it the most. “Yes, what?” He asked. “Yes, Aemond,” You answered, wanting to feel pressure and friction on your sex again. “No, try again,” Your lips parted, and brows knitted once more. “Yes, what?” Aemond asked once more.

“Yes…” You trailed as you scanned his eye for an answer. “…daddy?” You guessed and were quick to moan as his hand cupped your cunt that was dripping with your needy essence. “Good girl.” Aemond hummed and let his fingers draw circles on your cloth-covered cunt. You moaned aloud as you found someone who had the same sexual interest as you… someone who had forced your hidden desires out and would present you with your deepest sexual fantasy that you were ashamed of.

Aemond pulled you off the wall and dragged you to his bedroom. Him sitting on the bed, leaving you to stand and pulling you between his parted legs. “You’re my good girl, yes?” Aemond asked, now the one to look up at you. His hands trailed your body and rested at your backside, gripping your flesh firmly. “Yes, Daddy,” You answered, and Aemond hummed at how responsive you were. The others he brought home in the past just didn’t understand what he wanted— what he needed, greatly discouraging him from playing out his desires. But here you were… so obliging and obedient, the perfect match.

“Prove it.” Aemond stated, “Strip,” he added. You licked your lips as hesitancy peaked through— but you were determined to ignore it as you moved to undo your dress, letting it pool on the floor, leaving you in your undergarments. You kept your eyes stead on Aemond as you reached back and unhooked your brasserie, letting it fall and exposing yourself to the man you’d met mere hours before. “Fucking hell,” Aemond muttered under his breath, not able to resist and cup the ampleness of your tits, his thumb teasing the pebbled buds. You bent down to remove your boots next, but Aemond prevented you from doing so. “Keep them on,” he ordered, and you nodded. “Whatever you want, Daddy,” You answered and relished as a groan left his throat. “Fucking perfect,” He muttered as you embodied all he ever wanted.

“You’re being such a good girl… you really want to come, huh, baby?” He hummed as he massaged your tits. “Mhm… yes, Daddy. I want you to make me come so bad,” You moaned as his fingers pinched the sensitive buds in unison. “Then kneel,” You did as told and watched Aemond undo the zipper of his trousers, expectingly waiting on his cock, relishing when it was finally revealed. God… he was beautiful. “Show me how a good girl you are and suck daddy’s dick… make daddy come on that pretty face if you want to come over and over again tonight,” You wasted no time and took his shaft in your hand, placing your tongue flat on its base and slowly licking upward, noting that mere action alone had left Aemond’s breathing staggered and his cock already twitching in your hands.

Aemond let out a low moan as you bobbed your head on his length, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat perfectly, and your soft hand massaged his balls. Aemond could no longer hold it in, pulling out of your mouth and positioning his cock to come all over your face, just as he promised. He breathed heavily as he watched you gratefully grin and use your fingers to gather his seed and bring it to your mouth, licking it clean. “Was I a good girl, Daddy?” You asked innocently, still kneeling before him, eyes wide and imploring him to say yes. “The best fucking girl there is,” he growled, pulling you to straddle his lap and kiss your lips once more.

“So fucking eager,” Aemond said in-between kisses as you his grounded at his soft length that was quick to harden once more by the feeling of your cunt atop it. “I want my reward… please, Daddy, you promised,” You said and moved your hips faster, now utterly desperate for your own release. You squeaked as Aemond stood, tossing you to lay on the bed and placing himself between your leather-clad legs that his hands forced apart. “So, so pretty,” Aemond hummed as you lay completely exposed to him. Your fingers playing with the buds of your tits whilst your cunt begged for his touch.

Without warning, Aemond dipped his head down and met his lips with your cunt. Eagerly lapping at the folds, sucking art the bud, and darting his tongue out to tease your entrance. You bit your lip harshly, not wanting to be loud, guessing it would not be appreciated by his neighbors. Aemond furrowed his brows as he was doing his best work eating your cunt, but all he could get was a whimper and strained moan. Your breathing shallowed as the wrapped arms on your thighs tightened their hold. Aemond looking up at you with glazed eyes. “Do not hold back your moans.” He ordered as he saw you harshly bitting your lip, only making it more plump and tempting to kiss. “Let me hear how good I make you feel,”

Aemond smirked and continued his torment as you were quick to do as you were told, finally spewing your heavenly moans that were music to ears. That made the blood in him somehow stream faster; his heart beat louder, and his cock so much harder than it had ever been. If just hearing your moans could elicit such a reaction from him, Aemond could not wait to feel the whole of you. Have himself buried deep in your sweet cunt and have you scream his name. Aemond saw the telltale sign that you were about to reach your peak as your legs that rested comfortably on his shoulders started to tremble. “Daddy… I’m—I’m,” Words could not be comprehended as you were so close to the peak that you had been craving for the whole night. “Is my girl gonna come?” Aemond cooed as he abruptly pushed a finger in you, making your eyes roll back and your body arch in surprise. “Yes… yes!” You cried as you were on the edge, “Come.” Aemond ordered, watching you squirm on his bed, his fingers being coated with your essence.

But even as you came, Aemond did not his torment; his lips still sucked on your nubbin, and his tongue would vibrate on the sensitive bud, making you cry out. Tears would stream at the side of your face as it was all too much. “Aemond— I— No,” Aemond shook his head disapprovingly, switching his tongue for his other hand to continue to draw circles on your cunt. “Not Aemond, sweetheart,” He taunted as you tried to squirm away. Quickly retrieving his fingers that were inside you, licking them clean first before using them to keep you in place. “Daddy— please, stop! It’s too much!” You cried as you were about to reach uncharted territory— a place Aemond wanted you to reach.

Aemond savored the sound of your cunt reaching another high— spraying liquid all over Aemond’s bed, but he did not at all mind. He looked at you, fisting the sheets, eyes still rolled back. He called upon your name but you did not respond, too lost in the pleasure that you were so desperate for. Already exhausted, Aemond had pushed you over the edge, overstimulating you. It was a miracle you did not black out in pleasure. Aemond moved atop you, kissing your lips that were swollen and red—letting your slick skin tangle each other, brushing away the hairs that clung to your neck.

“Is that what you wanted, my pretty girl?” Aemond hummed, moving his lips to pepper kissed on the upper part of your chest, resisting the urge to suck at your nipples because he knew you needed a moment to recompose yourself. “Yes,” You breathed out after a while, Aemond chuckling at the time it took for his words to register in your pretty little head. “Do you still want more?” Aemond asked, nipping at your neck, leaving a mark that would make you think of him each time you saw it. You swallowed thickly and licked your lips before answering. “Yes, Daddy, I want so much more,” You answered, making Aemond feel he had truly found his match.

Aemond smashed your lips and glided the tip of his cock against your folds, making you moan against his lips. “I want it, Daddy— I want you so bad,” You uttered as you felt a hint of hesitancy in him. Your lips parted as Aemond obliged your wants. God, he was huge. It was a rather good thing that Aemond had prepared you ever so much because if it weren’t for your two orgasms, you doubted that he’d even fit. “So fucking tight— such a good girl taking all of daddy,” Aemond praised, and you could only moan as that made your walls tighten and, in turn, made Aemond moan as well. “You like being praised, huh? Don’t you, my pretty girl?” Aemond bit his lip as you clenched around him once more— if he had less self-control, he could have come already. You nodded your head, “Yes, Daddy, thank you, Daddy,” You answered as Aemond cupped your cheek, finally moving in and out of you.

“My good little girl, so responsive and so grateful,” Aemond grunted. God, he was already close but could not let himself come until he coaxed another one from you. Aemond licked his tongue as his eye was locked in on you, placing his finger flat on your nubbin once more, rubbing it to aid you along to another orgasm. Aemond groaned as he watched your eyes roll back again, your back arching and creating a different sensation for Aemond, who pounded in and out of you. “Oh… daddy— it’s so good, you’re so good!” You cried as you felt the familiar coil in your abdomen. “Is my good girl going to come again? Hm?” Aemond asked and fastened his pace, no longer having restraint. “Yes, Daddy— please, can I come? Please?” You asked permission first. Aemond loudly groaned as he didn’t even have to ask you to do that. God, you were utterly perfect— the personification of all he wanted.

You tiptoed around the room, trying to gather your clothes as Aemond lay sound asleep on his bed. You’ve never had a one-night stand before, but guessing by its title, it meant that one should leave before the following day. Aemond tossed around, and you quickly wore your jacket and completely disregarded your search for your underwear. Clutching your boots to your chest, you sneaked your way out of his bedroom and eventually out of his flat.

Aemond woke a few moments later, his arm reaching for the warm body that clung to him last night. Wanting to feel the softness of the girl he had decided would be more than just a mere one-night stand. Aemond furrowed his brow as the left side of his bed was empty and partly cold. He sat up and called your name, quickly going to his feet and searching for you in his bathroom; it was empty. He walked nakedly to his living room, and no trace of you was to be seen; only now did he realize that you had left without even a goodbye or a note. It was early in the morning, but Aemond’s mood was already at its worst.

A week had passed, and Aemond was growing desperate to find you once more. It was cruel of you to give him the best moments of his life and just abruptly leave. He found himself frequenting the bar you two had met. His eye steady on the door each night, willing it would be you to enter next. It was his fifth night in the bar; hope was wearing thin. He was entertaining the possibility of just picking up a random girl just for the sake of it— knowing he’d imagine that it be you he was fucking instead. He was growing tired of pleasuring himself through the night; he lewdly needed the feel of an actual cunt.

Aemond downed his drink as his eye glanced over a girl who had been staring at him the entire night. He sighed heavily as he knew he had no other choice than to let himself settle for another night of mediocre sex… nothing would compare to the night he had you. But before he could approach the girl, his eye flew to the balcony once more. Aemond’s stomach pitted, and he blinked rapidly as he thought his eye had deceived him, that his desperation for you had led him to hallucinate. Aemond forgot everything around him, threading closer to the space where you and he first met, praying to whatever deity that it was really you who stood by the balcony once more.

Aemond hasn’t called for you yet, but you have already turned. The same eyes he had been longing to look into, the same lips he had been fantasizing all week now before him. You smile sheepishly at him, not expecting to see him once more, “Hi… daddy,” You whispered lowly at Aemond, who was still enveloped with shock. When he made no answer, you stepped forward with a furrowed brow; it was then Aemond regained himself, pulling you close to him and kissing your lips like a man starved. Arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

He found his perfect match again and swore to himself that he’d never let you go.

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cutelycovered1 · 2 years ago

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cheollipop · 1 year ago

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move

navi | taglist

pairing: pole dancer!choi san x club owner!reader (fem)

w.c.: 3.3k

tags: smut, ft. pimp!woo

song rec: 'move' by taemin

with his toned thighs wrapped around the pole, sweat glistening under the changing lights, you felt the urge to wipe the cocky smirk off the new hire's lips. but little did you know, choi san loved performing for a crowd.

warnings: this —in white— is san's outfit for reference (except tighter, cheaper-looking and with a different chain), mentioned mxm, reader has one drink but everything is consensual, switch!san (shorty give me whip-whiplash), mean!reader, she's a badass though, public sex, unprotected sex (👎), san has a nipple piercing, some nipple play (m), multiple orgasms (m), multiple creampies, some edging, overstimulation, a hint of breeding/impreg kink, voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, so much dirty talk, nicknames (sannie, pretty boy; miss, darling), I think that's all (?)

A/N: this is for my lovely, pretty, gorgeous, insanely kind, amazing, genius, and beautiful alyssa (@kitten4sannie) <3 I'm sorry this took over a month to get to ;; I really hope the wait was worth it though!! happy reading~ ^^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

Scrunching your nose at the rancid odour of sewage, your heeled boots clacked against the pavement leading to the guarded club entrance, digging into your coat pocket and fishing out a stack of bills to lay gently in front of the homeless man’s sleeping bag. You passed by him every night, his yellow grin a stark contrast to his surroundings—fetid air driving everyone in the area to hold their breath, disease-ridden rodents and pretentious high school dropouts with one too many stacks of their daddy’s money crawling around in the vicinity.

You walked past the burly guard at the front, watching his ninety-degree bow from the corner of your eye as you stepped into the club. It wasn’t the best area to run such business, but you got enough loyal customers—mostly rich men lying to their wives—to pay the bills. You supposed you should be thankful to your father for that, the wretched bastard leaving his only daughter to run this shithole.

You walked down the short hallway and into wide room, blues and purples illuminating the shiny tile and peeling walls as you carried yourself to the bar near the entrance. The rusted stool creaked as you rested your body weight down on it, ignoring the young bartender as she scrambled to make your usual drink, drops of expensive liquor flying over the bench before she dropped a decorated glass in front of you. Giving her a tight-lipped smile, you wrapped your fingers around the cup and allowed the bitterness to sink into your taste buds.

Sitting sideways at the bar, forearm flat on the surface with the drink loosely held in your hand, you focused your eyes on the man to your left, moving his body around the pole anchored in the middle of the room. Cheap, glittery fabric pressed into the skin of his toned chest, stretching around his biceps until a peak of his warm skin tone shone through the white. His thighs wrapped around the pole, the muscles bulging as he held himself up and rolled his body around the metal rod, a dainty belly chain loose around his narrow waist, head rolled backwards to stretch out the column of his freckled throat. You could tell he was trying to show off his rounded backside, but his movements carried a certain stiffness that made you scoff. The customers spread out on the seats surrounding the stage—a mix of older, unhappily married men, and younger, broke college students who couldn’t afford a fancier club—didn’t seem to mind as much, taking in his lousy attempt of an arch and the prominent bulge pressing against the thin material of his shimmering bottoms, ogling eyes zeroing in on the metal bar piercing his nipple as it occasionally brushed against the pole.

He lowered himself down onto the LED flooring on his tiptoes, maintaining the graceful stance as the song came to an end, feline eyes flitting upwards to bore into yours. He oozed confidence, the air around him almost unbreachable, and for a reason you couldn’t place your finger on, the cocky curl of his lips irked you, your eyebrow twitching in irritation at the shameless show of brashness.

Veiny arms circled your shoulders, a familiar rasp in your ear, “that’s the new hire I was telling you about. Pretty neat, don’t you think?” His dark brown locks tickled your temple, curved nose nuzzling into your hair.

You hummed in agreement, “Mm, good job, Woo. He’s pretty.”

“And tight, ‘tried him out myself,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, proud of his take on a job interview.

You reached back to smack his shoulder, a faint smile on your lips. “He’s a little too confident for someone who can’t even arch properly, though,” you critiqued, narrowing your eyes at the man now bent over in front of the small crowd, thick fingers wrapped around the pole while he attempted to move his stiff muscles.

“He’s not that bad,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, tracing over the man’s plump ass with his eyes as he played back the events from the previous night in his mind, the throaty moans and whimpers still fresh in his ears.

“Even you can do a better job than him, and that’s saying a lot.”

Two fingers pinched your upper arm through the blazer covering it, Wooyoung’s unamused huff blowing over the shell of your ear. “If you’re so displeased by his performance, why don’t you teach him how to do it yourself?” He pushed back the image of the man’s narrow waist and puckered hole, replacing it with the memory of the private show you’d put on for him the week before.

While Wooyoung was too busy fighting off the sudden tightness in his pants, you contemplated his words—despite knowing he’d spoken them humorously. Tightening your hand around your drink, you brought it up to your lips and gulped down the rest of it, pushing Wooyoung off you and standing up. He scrambled to find his footing, caught off guard by your brassy stride towards the center of the room, aiming towards the occupied chair right across the stage.

With a hand on the college freshman’s shoulder, you pulled him off the worn-down leather, sitting down in his place and watching him scurry away with a hand halfway down his pants. Redirecting your attention towards the handsome man in front of you, his gaze instantly locked with yours, and something in his eyes gave away that he knew who you were. His hips swayed with more finesse—still not up to your standards—and his expression contorted to mimic a state of ecstasy. He was trying to impress you.

You watched for a few seconds, until he bent down lower, the pathetic arch of his spine pushing the words off your tongue, “Choi San, was it?” your voice cut through the music. “It seems like Wooyoung may have spoken too highly of you. I’m a little disappointed,” you took pleasure in the slow erasure of his cocky smirk, his movements faltering as he took in your words, hints of discontent evident in your tone. “Stand up straight, pretty boy.” You leaned forward in your seat, resting your elbows over your thighs as you watched him hesitantly part from the pole to straighten up. A smirk—a sign of power, perhaps—found its way onto your lips, “why don’t you grind on that pole for me? Since you seem so confident in yourself.”

Red tinted the shell of his ears, and you wondered how a few words could have affected a man like him so easily, as though he wasn’t standing in a room full of people ogling at his body, two pieces of glimmering fabric hiding him from their deviant gaze.

You could almost see the thoughts churning in his pretty head, dubiously reaching for the pole once again, standing behind it and beginning his decent into a full squat. Firm muscle bulged out of his thighs, oiled, tan skin reflecting the moving lights shining over his figure, his clothed bulge trapped between the metal and his abdomen. His hands remained above his head as he sunk lower, the cropped material of his shirt riding up to reveal more of his flushed chest. You watched him wordlessly, eying the deliberate brush of his nipple piercing over the pole, a muted ‘clink’ drowned under the music. Your eyes moved back to his face, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyebrows drawn in, and when you trailed down his body, your lips only curled further: his half-hard length pressing against the scratchy fabric, a wet patch spreading through the material and shimmering alongside the glitter. You may be starting to understand Wooyoung’s strange infatuation with the man.

You pushed off the creaky leather, smoothing down your suit before taking a few steps onto the round LED flooring, standing next to the crouched man and watching him twist his head to look up at you.

It was known rule everywhere that the dancers were not to be touched, and you figured your next move would probably be setting a bad example in front of your customers, but your clientele consisted mostly of regulars, people who knew you to be the boss. People who knew you made the rules.

You reached down to grab his face, fingers digging into his jaw and angling it further upwards, “you’re too stiff.” Your lips curved at his attempt at pushing away, nose scrunched up in defiance.

“’m not stiff,” he retorted weakly, words muffled through the tight squeeze of your fingers around his face.

“What’s the matter, Sannie, did Youngie fuck you too hard last night? Can’t even arch your back properly?” You gave his head a firm shake with every rhetorical question, pouting your lips in faux sympathy. His cheeks heated up under your touch, the pretty pink bleeding down his neck and chest as your aired out his nightly endeavors.

“I can arch my back-”

“My club is gonna run out of business if you keep running your mouth instead of doing your job properly, pretty boy. My old man would be rolling in his grave if that ever happened. We don’t want that now, do we?” You watched panic seep into his features when you spoke your next words, “how will you pay off your debt then, hm?”

“I-I’ll learn how to do it, please just-” his fingers release around the pole and wrap around your calves instead, his knees falling to the floor by your feet while he pleaded. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

His touch wasn’t unpleasant, rough fingertips brushing over your clothed skin, squeezing gently while he squirmed under you. Your fingers eased around his jaw but didn’t let go, pleased to have a man of his stature in the palm of your hand, yours to maneuver and handle however you wished. “And what will you do until then? Learning takes time, and we’re short-staffed, you know.”

A dangerous glimmer lit up San’s dark eyes, a sense of danger churning in your gut. Skilled hands slid up your legs, past your knees and thighs to settle on the curve of your hips, nuzzling his face into your palm before speaking. For a reason you couldn’t exactly pinpoint, you allowed him to do as he pleased, as though you suddenly had your own personal, human-sized cat, brimming with affection it didn’t know how to express. Siren eyes blinked up at you, a smile loaded with playfulness and mischief directed at you.

“I’ll just make sure to put on a performance they’ll never forget.”

Antsy hands pushed open your unbuttoned blouse to slide over the heated skin, your dress pants tossed and abandoned over the chair you’d been sitting in, lace panties dangling off the ankle resting on San’s shoulder. His glitzy top scratched against your skin, forming a blister you were too busy to care about as San’s body pressed against yours with his belly chain forming indents into your navel, his cock pounding into you to the steady beat of the music blasting through the decrepit speakers, a distant whirring disrupting the audio.

You slapped his hand off your chest, a warning look in your eyes and a pathetically despondent one in his, reaching for your hand and guiding it to his own chest, a silent ‘touch me instead.’ It was fascinating how quickly San’s cocky persona vanished once he got his dick wet, his face contorting—eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lidded—while you pulled on his piercing, rolling his nipple under your thumb and reveling in the tight moans rolling off his tongue.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” he mumbled, readjusting on his knees, the tight material of his bottoms low on his thighs restricting the movement.

“Already?” you teased, sucking in a sudden breath at the new angle, his cock curving into your g-spot through his relentless thrusts, his previous rhythm lost in his overflowing lust. “What a waste of a pretty cock, can’t even last long enough to make me cum.”

You noted the rose bleeding into his ears once again, his hips stuttering and a throaty moan leaving his lips as he emptied inside you, his hot seed spreading warmth through your lower belly. You laughed as he lowered himself onto you, hovering over your torso while he rolled his hips into your cunt, riding out his orgasm with airy moans and tightly-shut eyes. Paper bills fluttered in the air, some sticking to the sweat beaded on San’s back while the majority landed around your tangled bodies.

You were about to get up, words of beration forming on your tongue, but San took a few breaths and drove his cock further into you, grinding his length between your dripping walls until it chubbed up once again. It caught you off guard, his eagerness to perform, to prove himself to you, to fuck you dumb in front of all your customers.

The slow pace he adopted wasn’t enough, but the deliberate drag of his cock over your g-spot nearly sent you spiraling, the leg perched up on his shoulder shaking with every thrust. “Ngh, do you like being watched, pretty boy?”

San’s bashfulness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a pleased smile and a quick nod to his head, “Mm, I do,” his fingers kneaded the flesh of your thigh, his other hand pushing down your right leg to further open you up for him, driving his cock into you twice before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “what about you, Miss? You’re the same, aren’t you? I can feel your cunt squeezing around me every time you look at the perverts watching us.”

Your limbs felt heavy, something in your stomach convulsing at his words. “Watch your mouth-”

Calloused fingers slipped under you to tangle in the hair at your nape, tugging sharply until your neck craned at the force, your next words dying on your tongue as he began pistoning his cock into your needy cunt, a broken cry ripping through your chest as his cockhead pressed into your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You want them to watch how I’m gonna fuck you full? I’ll give you all I have, Miss, every last drop, until you’re all swollen with my cum,” he rambled, soft lips pressed against your temple while he hammered into you, sending you barreling towards the edge.

A tingle spread through your limbs, the edges of your vision darkening, and you prepared to freefall into a numbing orgasm, but San’s hips suddenly slowed to a languid grind, his lips stretching menacingly against your skin.

“No- fuck, I was so close-”

San interrupted your complaints, “tell me you want it.”

Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance. It was as though he was holding your orgasm for ransom. “Don’t be a fucking asshole, I’m still your boss-”

“-and I’m the one fucking you stupid,” he retorted, that vexing smirk on his face once again, and you wanted to punch it away. You’d assume abusing an employee would bring bad rep to your club, though, and you couldn’t afford to lose any customers. So you settled on glaring at him, attempting to roll your hips but huffing when San’s hands anchored you down to the floor.

“C’mon, just say you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want, Miss.” He lowered his voice down to a whisper, “all of it, just for you.”

The deep baritone of his voice, the words flowing smoothly off his tongue, warm hands splayed over your hips, occasionally squeezing at the flesh at the end of every sentence, his musky perfume mixed in with the tangy scent of his sweat engulfing your senses. Your walls pulsed around his cock, sitting thick and heavy inside you while you squirmed under him, the skin of your cheeks heated under his gaze as he awaited the words he wanted to hear. After a few minutes of his relentless stare-down, cat-like eyes boring into yours with incessant demand, you gave in, muttering the words under your breath and breaking eye contact.

Just when you thought you could breathe again, his deep chuckle echoed in your ear, the pleasant sound preferable over the music playing in the background, but his words sent a wave of cold sweat seeping out of your pores, “No, no. Say it louder for me, darling.”

You huffed in exasperation, the smell of alcohol swimming in the air between you. Shutting your eyes to relieve yourself of the sight of San's sharp jawline and arched eyebrow, you missed the way his gaze flitted upwards to meet with Wooyoung’s—the man now sat in the chair to the left of the stage, palming at the obvious tent in his pants.

San gave a harsh thrust to egg you on, the shot of pleasure shooting up your spine at the gesture enough to push the words off your tongue, “just fucking give me your cum already, ‘want it all inside,” you slurred, voice breathy with hints of desperation.

San didn’t waste any time before picking up his pace, pounding into your heat with urgent want, as though he was a starved man at a banquet. It was as though he’d lit your nerves on fire, the pleasure so intense your mind went numb, nails digging into San’s biceps as he pulled moan after moan out of you. “Hnnngh! L-like that, yeah-”

There was no build-up to your orgasm, and you found yourself tumbling down a steep cliff into a valley of ecstasy, lips forming an ‘o’ while San guided you through it. With your back arched off the ground, your blouse damp and stuck to your slick back, you clung to the fluid drag of San’s throbbing cock between your fluttering walls, the sound of skin-on-skin following the beat vibrating through the speakers.

San’s fingers dented your skin with enough force to promise blossoming bruises, his breath laboured as he began to chase his own high after you’d ridden out yours, fucking into you like a madman, “’m almost there, Miss, ‘gonna make sure you’re nice and full of me,” He groaned near your ear, the sound melting away the tinges of overstimulation jolting you away from him, his tight grip keeping you in place to buck his hips into your used hole. “So full you might get pregnant- ngh!”

Driven to completion by his own words, San’s throaty moans drowned out the melody strumming in the background, spurts of hot cum adding to the white painting your walls as he milked himself of every last drop. It seemed like you were the one who had fucked him stupid, barely-coherent, babbled praise flowing into your ear as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

Your knee dug into your chest, and you stared at the lace still hanging off your ankle where it sat on San’s shoulder, pins and needles pricking at your muscles from the prolonged position. But you didn’t complain, simply basking in the afterglow while San’s chest rose and fell into yours. You could see the flutter of paper bills in your peripherals—more than you’d ever seen before on a slow, Thursday night—barely any of them reaching you as the men tossing them had their dominant hands preoccupied. Your eyes moved sideways, meeting Wooyoung’s, already staring back at you with a knowing smirk on his pouty lips.

Through the thick haze of the orgasm still clouding your mind, your muscles twitching with its remnants as San’s cock spasmed pathetically between your flooded walls, two loads streaming out of your stretched cunt, you realised just how much Choi San enjoyed performing for a crowd.

And just how much you could profit off that.

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