#White glove slapped me in the face and I loved it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jolalibrary · 11 months ago

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iii. when pounding dough isn't just baking

joel miller x f!reader | chapter three of honey stained hands

chapter summary: and he can already hear what Jackson will say if they find out, the looks he’ll get—because how dare he poison the sweet woman who tends to bees and bakes cakes. but he dares. fuck he’d dare over and over again.

warnings: patrol times, allusion to grief, minor mentions of loss of loved ones (rip tess/sarah), reader is unwarrantedly slapped on the ass by an unknown male (she handles it, cause she's a baddie), soft, slow-smut, p in v, typical canon-angst, no physical descriptions, minor use of the nickname 'bee' but no use of y/n. wordcount: 5.1k an: fuck me, she's uploaded hahaha. for this chapter, there's far too many people to thanks, I've rambled about this to anyone who listens, but as always thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for propping me up when this felt like it would never happen and thank you also to @goodwithcheese who loves this, probably as much as me, but has also reminded me i have to love it first.

It’s hard to pinpoint when the snow first began to truly settle.

When it began to simply dust itself over things, and then when it shifted into blanketing.

One day, normal. The next there’s a sheet of white hanging expertly over roofs and porches. It's placed there by the hands of nature, blanketing everything in innocence, unveiling deception by the way of footprints, while hiding away the horrors that have deteriorated and spoiled into the ground.

It twinkles when stared at and crunches under the soles of boots. It goes hand in hand with the weather which makes mist appear from lips as people converse, going on with their new normal. It forces laughter from individuals as it falls in flutters, collecting on noses, hands and the ground, just before snow people begin to appear, all crafted expertly by hands and joy. But, the snow also makes bones in those who are older ache and makes excited giggles flow from those who are younger.

For Joel, it drives him to yank his gloves further up his hands, causes him to grumble and makes him narrow his eyes as Ellie rolls another snowball and threatens to throw it.

She eventually settles with heading off to find Tommy, leaving him to stuff the gloves under the cuff of his jacket—trying to busy himself, and not stare. Alternating between flexing his fingers and peering around as he waits to hear your door open.

When it does sound, it’s like music to his ear. A soft whistle flows with it, a smile catching his eyes when he allows himself to glance over and look.

Joel swears the light of the world lives in your smile. It must do to penetrate the layers he wears, the walls he’s thrown up and the roughness he carries. Not that he’s ever about to admit it. Not that or that whatever had been churned up inside of him, smooths out. A semblance of calm slid itself over him, gently weaving its fingers under knots and taut muscles, relaxing him, inch by inch.

Although, a part of him is tempted to spill all his secrets to you when you skip down the steps, looking as over the moon to see him, as he is to see you.

“You ready for Patrol 101, Miller?”

He isn’t sure he is. His knees had groaned in protest this morning, then there had been an ache in his ribs when he stretched too far, and he was sure if he attempted to run his hip would give out.

Joel swallows all of it and doesn't share it. Doesn't want to highlight any more than the lines on his face and the callouses on his fingers what the years have done to him.

Because getting out was something he’d been craving.

A hunger in him that hasn't been stemmed with tasks and fix-me-ups. It’s why he had almost choked on his drink when Tommy told him the news. Practically watched his brother smirk in the same way he had when he was younger—like he’d gotten something on his older brother. Bee'll take you around a few times; show you the routes. Then you'll be paired with someone else.

While he hadn’t wanted to push, dismay swirled within him. It sloshed against the sides of the happiness he’d been handed, diluting it, and making it murky.

How come I can’t stay partnered wit’ her?

Can’t have the best two together—we’ll lose others quicker than we already are.

He said nothing. People had been getting braver for weeks, growing more desperate.

A thing which Joel had seen firsthand when he’d been outside of the walls of Jackson, long before he could ever say he was a resident. But, something had shifted more so since then. A deviousness not etched into those with more energy, more poison in their teeth and more gut in their stomachs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,” you tease.

Snorting, he holds your gaze. Allows himself to see his reflections in the way they glimmer, staring at him with a mixture of things—ones he wishes he could translate and understand. Your tongue tracing your bottom lip, something trying to write across your face, but never being spelt out.

That is until you clear your throat. Erasing it all, wiping the markings from your face—the begins of sketched-out confessions he would have tried to ascertain.

“Come on, need to get ourselves equipped.”

He follows, as he does for the next hour.

On the second time out, he’d grown used to your mannerisms.

How you went from nothing but sunshine to a thing someone would fear meeting in the dark.

That you begin by his side, but eventually fluctuate between being a little in front or just behind. Your voice ranges in pitch, sometimes whispering, sometimes at normal volume. All little quirks he supposed you’d picked up from surviving.

The main thing Joel learns is that he doesn’t hate listening to you—not like he does many others. Even when you elbow him, pulling a slight smirk from him.

What he hadn’t banked on was the way he felt when your eyes dropped to his lips temporarily, almost fleetingly.

Good job I’m a talker, isn’t it Miller?

While you are, he’s also now able to spot that shift in you on the third run—the one he saw before when you were littered with ruby droplets. He can predict when it descends, when it shifts in your eyes, something sharper, more razor when you’re on this side of the fence.

The playful light that adorns your face is gone, traded for something harsher, more weathered. He thinks it would be rude to say your age, but you appear hardened, like the things you’ve faced begin writing themselves across your face all over again.

Joel notes it’s worse when you pause at an abandoned cabin, your voice tight, almost forced as it leaves your mouth. Your eyes burn into the door and the chipped windows. He doesn’t interrupt, makes no sudden movements, just allows you to list the things there, the amenities, the hidden knife in the floorboard and half a box of bullets behind a brick in the fireplace.

He's not paying attention to that though, but rather you.

You who looks like you could shatter if he knocked into you, crumble into something that would willingly slip between snowflakes and bury yourself into the soil.

He's learned grief can be worn in a number of ways. Ellie's there, carried around her neck like a necklace, it lingering in unsaid words.

The most painful parts of his own are buried in a chamber, wrapped in iron, only released in the moments where he's alone, where there's nothing but darkness and quiet, allowing him to replay all he can recall like a home movie, paying attention to the way those three letters sound and the childish laughter rings out.

Another part comes back to him at the sound of running water, of circular rocks. He thinks of that sly smirk and that cunning brain when he rolls over mid-sleep to remember he still leaves a space.

Then, there's the way you carry it. A mystery, slices of it living in the things you surround yourself and you come into contact with, like a bunch of ghosts which haunt and linger.

"I know it’s not a lot, but it’s better than leading them back."

"Yeah," he adds.

Because other words don't come to him with ease.

You don’t fill the silence for a while after the cabin is barely in sight, just the world absently humming along, as though it doesn’t notice the tension and the way your shoulders are by your ears.

“So, why baking?”

It’s the first question he asks—the only one since the two of you left the safety of Jackson. If you’re surprised at his shift to engage, you do not comment, instead pointing in the direction the two of you are taking.

“Well, I did do candles for a while too, but…”

Moving a branch out of the way, you nod as you move under it, likely following a path you only know in your head.

And it lingers, the bit after the but. Waiting, hearing the breeze blow gently through bare trees and the snow wince under your boots.

“So, how’d you like patrol, Miller?”

Smiling, he grips the gun a little tighter at his waist. “S’alright. Y’a good tour guide.”

Laughing, you stop, waiting for him, jutting your head in the direction of the path, but he doesn’t move, and neither do you.

And it happens, brief and quick. Gone far too soon before he can point it out—that brief look you give him, dropping from his eyes to his mouth. Curiosity there, brewing, bubbling before you vanish it when you return to hold his gaze.

“If Tommy tells me you rated me less than five stars, I’ll be coming for you.”

“Will y’now?”

Narrowing your eyes, the world silent of snow crunching under boots. “Yeah. I know where you live, too.”

He doesn’t see you for several days after the third patrol—and in that time, he's paired with someone younger, a man who appeared more nervous about holding a gun than he did being outside the walls.

“The two of you will be going out in a week,” Maria had said, no room for complaint or argument.

A stern expression that hardens as though freezing in the cold temperatures.

So, Joel said nothing.

But he did think of you.

He dreamt of you, too. Them having shifted when he slept. Swirling, hearing the distinct whispers of Miller, flashes of your gaze just as he wakes up—leaving him gasping, hand on his stomach, desperate to alleviate pressure, but not the kind which had been in his chest.

By the fifth day, he still hadn't asked about you, but fuck did he want to. Almost went round, and hammered his fist into your door. Getting as far as his own porch before he talked himself out of it.

But, now Ellie had begun to mumble. Her sharing her worries, her concerns, fingers playing with the other as she sat at the table, breakfast untouched, sadness beginning to embed itself in the cheer that Jackson had slowly brought her.

"She might be already down at the pen."

Moving the spoon, Ellie shrugs. "She isn't. Her light is on."

By the time he’s decided to check in himself, Joel finds Ellie at the foot of your porch, hands on her hips—beckoning you to come out. Doing so at the top of her voice, all sing-song, making a dance and churning the snow into ice as you stand and watch.

Whatever your reply is, is buried under your breath, doing so begrudgingly, practically dragging your feet like you were the same age as her.

“You have anything to do with this, Miller?”

“Nope. I’d have dragged y’out if it were up to me.”

You’d poked his chest, smirking—a glint that flickered and then vanished inside the dark-sadness that swirled in your eyes. “You can drag me anywhere, Miller, just so you know.”

Somehow, the simple act of getting you out led you to teaching Ellie more about the animals, showing her how to brush one of the horses, and how to feed the chickens. Before he knew it, he was lingering behind, watching the two of you talk to other townsfolk, before somehow ending up in the Tipsy Bison.

It was then Ellie decided to leave you both—a look on her face that screamed menace and don’t fuck this up old man, all at once.

And he had tried. Kept things light, breezy. Ordered you a drink, listened, and even overthought questions before he asked them.

Your eyes flicked to a table across the room when you motioned to answer, it all loud, full of laughter. The pitch of them has been growing louder for the last half an hour, likely doing so as more time goes on and as more alcohol fills their stomachs and sloshes with the morals.

It seemed to make your spine tense, your jaw tighten. All newbies, from what Tommy had said when he’d served you—seem good, honest.

Joel didn’t get that vibe, and from the look on your face, neither did you.

Clearing his throat, he nudges your glass with his. “Y'been good?”

Chewing your reply, you lean on the bar—eyes staring at him. That same look.

The one which he sees in his dreams. The one he saw embers of on those walks.

Before it drops, finds a place near where his fingers rest, watching a smile crack into your stern expression, fluttering something else out in its place.

“Better now.”

“Yeah?”

Rolling your lips, you lean closer, the scent of your soap and shampoo flooding his nostrils. “Yeah, Miller. You make me—“

But your words are stolen, robbed.

Taken.

The action does so before the sound of a crack echoes, all heavy, loud—it punches itself into the calming air, turning it violent and angry.

It ricochetes.

And Joel is embarrassed it takes him far too long to piece together when he sees you jolt beside him. Only realising when Tommy yells and he sees the evidence of it cut across your face, the shock that bled into a deep frown—words dying mid-conversation before your head whipped around and you stare at someone passing.

Pushing up from the bar, slamming your glass down—it splashing itself against the wooden counter. “Did you just spank my ass?” you spit, cutting over the man’s laughter—directing it at him as he walked back to his table.

“Just thought you were good enough to eat, sweetheart.”

Even if the smile on your face is nothing but sweet, Joel sees the shift. The forced nature of it. The way it doesn’t glaze across your skin. But is planted there. Not quite reaching your eyes, not quite blazing over the simmering that’s there.

Because they’re aflame. Murderous. Slightly pinched at the edges as you slowly tilt your head, placing your bottle down.

The music continues to play, mindless chatter layers on top of it, but he can just hear your boots walking away from him. One step, two steps, three.

Your body inching closer to the man, the one with his thumb in his belt, leaning—like his comment had substance.

“That what you want, handsome? You want me?”

Joel’s throat dries, fucking tightens. And he just watches on, even as his fist grips tighter around the glass. Hating the drawl from your lips, despising it, in fact—even if he knows it's a pretence. Fake.

It’s a thing he knows from those patrols, has learnt all the inflictions of your voice—can read when you’re holding back and when you’re giving him nothing but honesty. He can tell when your words are silky, smooth—the same way he knows you’re acting now.

The man snorts. The scar on his cheek all pink, clearly healing, sliding up with his snarl. But, it's the way his eyes bore into you like a man starved, that makes him almost rise up from the stool.

The way the man licks his lips and looks you up and down. “I’d show you a good time, that’s all I’ll say.”

He can feel his blood boiling, hand so clenched he’s sure the bones will snap under flexed muscle and taught skin. But, he doesn’t move, doesn’t shift—even if all he wants to do is go over.

Because you don't need him. Reminding him very much of circular stones and stubbornness. Reminding him of someone who handled themselves just as well, someone not worth crossing either—him there, only ever in case. That case rarely ever fucking needed.

He snorts to himself because it's only now he considers the fact that if the world had been different, he suspects the two of you would be friends.

Especially from the way you had moved closer to the table. Your hips doing their thing, fingers stroking at your palm as he motions to stand.

“Better than most around here, including your present company.”

You stop. Halt.

Head tilting ever so slightly—even from his position behind, Joel knows your face has switched again. Morphed. The air growing tenser, colder—practically bone-chilling.

And he swears the music quiets.

It happens quickly. A screech of a chair leg, the shattering of a glass, and the thud of a man twice your size landing on his back. Your body slowly crouches over him as the others at the table stand up. But, he's just focused on you.

How your jeans bend in a low V at the back as you hover over the man—shirt rising, skin showing.

All the other noises have stopped, and Joel can feel his brother’s eyes on him. Feel his pulse in his throat, in his ears, hammering and fucking hammering—

“This what you want? To have someone warm, sweet and gentle on top of your bones?”

You ask it in a way where there’s room for a response. The man’s eyes are wide, staring up at you like you’re the devil rather than an angel. Your tone carrying, fluttering to his ears—but your shoulders are squared.

“Lemme let you in on a secret. I’m not warm, m’not sweet—and touch my ass again, and you’ll find out that I’m not that fucking gentle either.”

Your words ring in the second after. Just the same as the thud of you throwing the man back to the floor. The words crawl across the walls, unwilling to be smothered by music. His drink suddenly tainted, ruined, no longer tasting of anything but annoyance, anger and sadness, watching you grab your jacket and leave.

Joel just rolls his jaw, over and over again. Glare burning a hole in the floor, opening it up, feeling red mist rise out of it as he tried to calm the pulse in his neck, the one hammering in his skull.

Y’going after her, or should I?

Tommy asked it in a way where he knew the answer, likely having bid his time to speak it. Let minutes rack up, and become a bigger number than they should have reached. He wore that same cocky expression Joel recognised from a world that didn’t feel like this one. It reminded him of kitchen mornings and car rides and mornings arguing with others about the prices of supplies.

It’s why he doesn’t answer, just grabs his coat, throwing a glare before he goes after you.

Joel pauses to visit the horses and lingers there to calm the anger in his bones and the fury in his muscles.

When he begins to trudge to your house alone, he pays attention to the way his boots crunch in the many prints left behind by others. His eyes trying to spot yours, discern them from the many others.

It only gets easier when the path forks off to where you both live. The prints grow fewer, able to spot the different pairs—the ones he knows to be Ellie’s, the ones he can recognise are his own, and then yours.

You with your little markings to your steps, the fresh snow leaving a breadcrumb trail he doesn’t need, but appreciates all the same. Because your house is flooded in darkness, bathed in the night—but the footprints told him you’d made it home.

Even in your anger.

He knocks once before he tries the door. Internally shaking his head at you leaving it unlocked, twisting it into place when he’s on the other side. Boots joining yours, bits of the outside crumbling from leather to meet the melting pools you’ve left yourself.

“Kitchen, Miller.”

Smirking, he shoves his coat from his shoulders, a little golden pool of light on your wooden flooring from the kitchen that lights his way. Leads him. Pulls him along with a transparent finger which hooks into the collar of his shirt and practically drags him, until he finds you where he suspected—behind a counter, flour dust everywhere, and staring waiting for him.

“Hey there pretty thing.”

Snorting, he bites back that you’re prettier. Swallows it. Until it rears its head up his throat, and sprouts in his brain, making him think back to your comment. Then, all he wants to do is make a comment about cashing in on it.

Truthfully, he hasn’t been able to stop himself from wondering if you sound as pretty as his perfectly tuned guitar.

As he turns it over, he realises—even if he was suave—it won’t sound as good. It all balling and rolling in a lump on his tongue.

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, y’hear me?”

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your chin to your chest. “Still. Should control my… annoyance better.”

Shaking his head, he folds his arms. "Think you controlled it just fine. Though, y'could've punched him."

Grinning, you look down at the bowl pointedly. "And how am I meant to buy my way into your heart if I can't bake you things?"

And it's there again, that thrum, that little twinge in him that you have awoken. A thing that made him think, not just feel. His thumb and finger play with the fabric of his sleeve, feeling his eye narrow as he watches you—considering, ticking.

“Can hear you thinking over here? Need some oil for the cogs up there?”

“Enough.”

Smiling, you lick your lips, tapping your fingers against the side of the bowl. “I’m used to it, Miller. The comments—the looks. Had it… well, far too long.”

Biting the inside of his jaw, he does so a bit too hard. Almost making himself wince, thumb digging into his arm, feeling it, halting him from exclaiming. “Shouldn’t have t’be used to it.”

“Yeah, well...”

You let the words fall out, before sighing. Resting your palms on the side of your bowl, you give him that look again. The one he thinks he understands and can read—even if it looks different. It doesn’t whisper in the same way as it did on Tess, on others.

On you, it looks like a challenge, a difficult thing he wants to overcome, solve.

Clearing your throat, you smile. Softer, kinder. "Least I'm your honey, right?"

Moving from his place, he moves closer to the counter. Something familiar coming back to him—something covered in cobwebs and dust. Once hidden under moth-eaten sheets, not thrown to the side as he comes to stop a considerable gap away—enough for you to blink, to tell him you’re tired and say goodnight to him in that playful tone.

None of it comes.

Lifting his chin, he finds you slowly smirking, eyes fixed on him, watching, waiting.

Clearing his throat, he rolls his jaw from side to side. “What’d y’like me to call you?”

Your hands flex, flour still clinging to your palms, your hands. “Tonight?”

Nodding, he watches you swallow.

Lets your eyes trace a pattern over his face, for a moment forgetting—allowing himself a moment of pretence. That this is normal, all of it.

“Yours. I want you to call me yours for tonight.”

Suddenly, his fingers are on you, palms grasping. It’s less a kiss, and more a need for your mouth—an act of dominance, a purposeful kiss to keep your tongue busy so it doesn’t take it back. More teeth than anything else.

Because it’s bold—yet so simple.

A thing which frightens him and makes him want to devour you whole, just as he’s inhaling, smelling sugar, sweet and all things fucking nice as you moan into his mouth—and fuck do you make him want. You, this thing that is all good on the outside and marred on the inside.

It's why he softens his mouth on yours, breathes you in a little gentler, hovering his mouth over yours, waiting, permission needing to be given, signed, delivered—

“Keep kissin’ me, Miller.”

Groaning, he does. Tasting something that is all things good, yet as he slides his hand around your apron and into your shorts, you’re nothing but bad.

He just feels skin, no fabric—your slick greeting his touch, how wet you are, all desperate to be known.

“Barely even touched you,” he groans, finger-coating himself in it. In you.

“Maybe you’re not the first visitor I’ve had in the last hour.”

Your hands are caked in flour still as he spins you, pressing you down. Cheek on the cool counter as the bowl tumbles and descends to the floor. Your hands, clutch, leverage themselves, hips all hinged.

“Y’mean it?”

“What?”

“Y’wanna be mine.”

“I mean whatever you want me to mean, Miller.”

Your tight as he slides another finger in, tightening around him, slick to the place his fingers meet his hand, your whimpers blowing flour dust around.

The more he touches you, the more he decides he has to have you. Something carnal, primal. Each whimper and moan grasped for like he was collecting them, storing them in his dark depths, hoping they’d glow and spark light.

Then, it cuts through it all, and your hand—smothering his jeans in uncooked batter—grasping at his thigh, squeezing.

Want you, Miller. Please.

Even as he retracts his hand, he wants to apologise. Turning you to face him, watching your eyes—all lust blown and pretty—drink him in, likely seeing his hesitance, his apologies.

Swallowing as you hook a finger in your shorts, letting them pool at your ankles, “It’s been a while for me, too.”

His mouth slants over yours, tongue diving past the back of your teeth. Clothes sliding free, skin exposed to the air of your kitchen—the evidence of your earlier baking leaving evidence in places he’ll find hard to explain.

Not that he cares. He wants to be costed in flour prints he’ll admire when he has to return home. Wants them to linger, be hard to rid—just like you.

“I’m no one else’s,” you whisper, teeth grazing his cheek.

But it’s the words that are left hanging he hears louder: not anymore.

A feeling he understands—relates to. His hands move, positioning you up onto the counter where you bake and make, and now fuck. He hears the bowl fall, the earlier mixture spreading out in a mess as he lines himself up, looking in your eyes one last time as you nod.

Then, he slides in, all enveloped by you. Walls wrapping around him, inviting him in—desperate, needy, as little moans kiss against his ear as he stills, thumbs drawing soft circles on your hips to make you relax.

It's slow, and cautious. Rocking into you. Letting your mouth find his, attempting to drown out all other things as your legs wrap around his waist.

"Your back."

"Don't care," he grunts, buries it in your mouth, layers it onto your tongue.

And he doesn't; he just needs.

All hungry, more than he thought he could be for a person he knows no history of. But as he loses himself in you, he feels his hand metaphorically let go of the dread he wakes with each day. Each moan of his name from your pretty fucking lips makes him feel like he belongs, not for someone, but for himself.

Feeling your pulse beat against his wrist as his hand slides around to hold the back of your neck, tongue tasting the sweetness collected on your neck, as you moan his name.

And he can already hear what Jackson will say if they find out, the looks he’ll get—because how dare he poison the sweet woman who tends to bees and bakes cakes. But he dares. Fuck he’d dare over and over again if this is what heaven feels like—if this is sinning, he’ll forever confess his wrongdoings.

Because you fit, perfectly taking him, your fluttering hole taking him deeper and deeper, welcoming him, nails cutting into him, marking him, maiming him in a way that makes so much sense for the people they are.

Grunting your name, your eyes open—fire there, present in swirling ruin, ready to pull him, unaware of how willing he is as he spears himself inside of you. Unforgiving, sharp—aiming to bruise and leave you wanting all at once. You’re panting, whining his name. Your head tilted back, chin in his fingers as he fucks into you.

Where he asks, and you smile—wicked and true—inside, inside me, Joel. And he can feel it, how close you are—all tight, desperate and unwilling to beg. But it’s there in the way you’re struggling to swallow and how his name keeps threatening to spill like the hook of a song.

“It’s okay, let go—fuck—let go for me.”

He sees the cogs turn, feels your body react, contort and wash over with pleasure, as he is sure he hears it, the distinct whisper of for you as you cry out, soaking him, coating his cock, fluttering and fluttering until you pull his mouth to yours. Tongue swiping across his bottom lip, tasting the sound of your name as his rhythm stutters, and stutters until his own release costs your insides, stains you, writes that he is yours all over you.

For minutes, it's just breaths, and the scent of you. Face sowed in your neck, your pulse knocking on his cheek, alive, living, all his.

"Miller..."

Swallowing, he steps back, boots standing in the contents spreading around him, deepening itself into the grout of your tiles as he pulls himself out, your hiss minimal, smothered and buried. His hand is outstretched, and he feels your palm slide against his as he helps you down to the mess the two of you made on the floor.

If you mind, you say nothing.

When he zips his fly up, you scramble back to redress. Silence, prickling tension building until he clears his throat, and you look at him with that same innocent look he first saw on your porch.

And he smiles. More so when you drag him by his cheek to your lips, having another second, another moment before reality rains down.

"I should... clean up," you laugh.

Nodding, he takes the cue. “You’ll… you’ll have to let me know when you’re next baking.”

You grin, then smirk, too—not saying anything. Staring at the ruin on the floor. “I’m sure I’ll need to borrow some ingredients.”

He wonders if that’s your twos thing.

And, he learns in four days that it is.

You step up onto his porch, Ellie having long gone out with friends—his fingers pausing in their strumming of the guitar.

“Ran out of hot water.”

“If y’want me to fix it, neighbour, I’m no plumber.”

“No. Just thought I could use yours—but, if you’re worried about consumption, we could do it together. Shower, I mean.”

He’s sure your eyes are sparkling; practically stars in a dark sky, twinkling, inviting.

His hand places the guitar down, leaning it, knees aching as he stands, your smile growing, turning more wicked as he nods at you to the door.

CHAPTER FOUR ->

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sssigil · 2 years ago

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Big Juicy

posting twice today because this thought wouldn't leave my brain literally ghost face makes me feral like them or any masked slasher killer ahhhh ^_^ ♡

Summary: Bimbo reader has a special uninvited guest visit her tonight, she doesn't even hesitate I mean who wouldn't fuck a masked killer ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Warnings: PURE FILTH, mask kink, spit kink, pussy slapping, degrading, size kink kinda, oral M n F receiving, he slaps u, he spanks you too, unprotected sex (don't do that), choking, biting, a little blood, mentions of killing, breeding if u squint, that's it enjoy <3.

It was currently eight at night and you had been in your dorm all day noting going on in your pretty little mind. You were laying on your tummy legs up kicking as you scrolled through your phone humming along the music playing. You had been blasting Ayesha Erotica this whole time that you hadn't notice your door opening with how loud the music was playing.

He saw you laying there, you were wearing the cutest skimpiest outfit he couldn't help but rub his groin. You body was facing your wall so he had a good view up your denim mini skirt, he could see your baby pink lace panties that barely covered your lower lips and he fucking loved the white thigh highs that covered your legs.

Ethan came here to kill you but he just couldn't help himself. He was now behind you, knife on his right hand as he lifted the knife ready to stab you on your back but before he could impale it he saw your pretty face now facing him. Pretty lips glossy with your gloss, doe eyes had slightly big falsies with pink glitter surrounding your eyes. You looked so cute.

"holy fuck am I about to get fucked by a masked killer" you exclaimed looking at the masked figure now sitting up on your bed dropping to your knees grabbing your phone clicking the camera app. You had a mirror facing your bed and you had the bestest idea, you position yourself left hand wrapping around the figures leg both thighs straddling his foot, you pointed your phone to the mirror making sure to get you both puckering your lips and taking a picture.

"OMG! we look so cute look look" you squealed looking up to the mask figure so he could see the picture you just took. Ethan was dumb founded he didn't know how to react tilting his head down to look at you, you were smiling at him arms still wrapped around his leg as you rested your head on his thigh phone not set down to the side.. God this girl was so stupid he had to take advantage of this.

"wait do you want to use my mouth?" you asked him almost vibrating waiting for him to answer in some sort of way. You felt yourself drip when you saw him nod his head pushing yourself off of him so you can push him on the bed. He sat there still looking at you waiting for you to make a move. and you did you went to move the thick black material off so you could have access to his black pants.

You began to unbutton the pants he wore gasping when his cock just sprung out, he wasn't wearing any undergarments it soaked you up even more. "You came prepared huh" giggling at him. He finally felt you wrap your hand around his cock placing your mouth right above his tip so you could spit on it. You used your spit to lube him up jerking him off, you moved your hand up and down and up and down slowly. "come on say something pretty please, wanna hear you" you whined at him, you loved when men were vocal and he wasn't doing that all so you hated him.

He didn't budge one bit when you begged so you did what had to be done. You took him down your throat nose pressed u against his neatly trimmed pubes, you swallowed around the head of the cock keeping it there for a little making sure to look up at his masked face. You pulled back a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his pink tip. "wanna see you" you begged even more but he didn't listen to you instead his gloved hand went to push at your head signaling you to take him back in your throat.

You bobbed your head making sure to use your hands to jerk off the excess that didn't fit in you tiny mouth. "so big" you'd moan when you pull away from him, you had tears running down your tinted cheeks and you want nothing more than to have him touch you. As if he could read your mind he moved your head so you could pull of his cock, hand on your chin making you look at him lips pouted red and shiny, he could hear the soft fast breaths coming from you. You saw his other hand go for his mask, finally you thought, you saw him lift his mask over his mouth but it didn't go any further.

You saw his mouth move a little before he positioned his mouth over yours making sure to squish your cheeks so you could open your mouth for him. You almost came in your panties untouched as he spat in your mouth making sure you swallowed his spit then doing it again. He lightly slapped your cheek cock twitching at how good you sat there swallowing his spit. He then pushed you back to your original position pulling his mask back down. He didn't even make you wait grabbing his cock which was resting on his lower stomach.

He wanted to see you beg for it so he did a little bit o teasing he lightly tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue making you paw at him causing him to slap you. "come on mr ghost face don't tease me please" you whined at him opening your mouth again and he did not hesitate he stuffed himself down your throat make sure you couldn't move. This action made your eyes water, looking up at him batting your eyelashes trying to make the tears to go away.

You felt him finally let go easing himself out your throat letting you breath just for a second before you felt him do it again but this time you felt him thrust himself fucking himself into your throat. You could hear small soft grunts come from him and he bucked his hips up into your mouth and you just couldn't help but reach your tiny manicured hand down your body slithering into your panties rubbing your little button fast whimpering. Then you heard him, he let out the deepest and raspiest 'fuck' as he came down your throat making sure you didn't get away. He didn't care if you choke he just NEEDED to have your little throat stuffed with him cum.

''Mmm'' you moaned once he pulled out small amounts of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. You felt him move his hand from your head to your chin wiping the drool and cum off. You made sure to swallow what he gave you so you wouldn't disappoint him, you still had your hand in your panties and you felt yourself grind against your hand just wanting some sort of release and Ethan noticed that.

He got up from where he sat surprising you when he picked you up and laid you on the edge of the bed. You were placed on your tummy making sure to place a small pillow under your belly, sock covered legs hanging off the edge. He made sure to signal you to arch tour back towards him you obeyed like always cause you just loved pleasing men, I mean as long as they did the same duh. You felt him rub and kneed your inner thighs moaning and whining literally begging him to just do something you just needed him so bad.

He finally gave in pulling your mini skirt down your legs but your panties stayed on. Ethan made sure to tease your cunt through the thin baby pink material, pinching your clit through it then rubbing soft but rough circles. He would pull at the material almost giving you a wedgie but that gave you enough friction on your clit that had you whining.

"Please just touch me please" you felt your hole clench around nothing but air as his gloved hand slapped your ass hard you cried out. When he finally had enough of that he pulled your panties down your legs stuffing them in his pocket for safe keeping. You heard him shuffle behind you and you wondered what he was doing so you went to turn your head but before you could see he pushed your head into the mattress "stay there" he used his voice once again making your legs almost close but his thighs stopped you from doing so.

Ethan had lift his mask off slightly just enough for his mouth and nose be free. He lowered himself to his knees taking the position you were in a couple minutes ago. You gasped loudly into the pillow as you felt his tongue lick a strip down your slit to your clit. Both of his hands went to grab your ass just to kneed them and spread them apart so he can have all of you. You felt his tongue make circles around your nub making sure to suck on It a little before letting go. Ethan had never done this but he's so glad he watched videos of this. He always wanted to eat someone out and now he finally had the chance.

He made sure to spread your lips apart backing up a little and spitting on your cunt watching his drool drop and slip into your hole which was clenching like crazy, poor thing he thought. He heard the most nastiest moan come from your pretty little mouth thank fuck he stuffed your face into that mattress you're so loud. He made sure to lick at your hole loving the feeling of your walls clenching around his tongue moaning into your cunt so you could feel the vibrations on your cunt. You felt one of his cold hand makes its way to your clit rubbing at it and you lost it thighs shaking as he kept the pace of his tongue on your hole. You felt him pull back again both his fingers and mouth left you, you were confused on why but that confusion leave you once you felt his hand slap your mound.

"that hurts so good mister" you moaned as you felt him slap your cunt more and more the more you moaned and whined. You didn't want him to stop touching you, you wanted to be his forever ♥.

Once Ethan stopped his rough treatment you finally felt what you were waiting for, his cock. You felt him rub his cock on your pussy lips making sure to coat it with your wetness. You were such a messy whore and Ethan loved it, he wanted to keep you for ever. You felt his cock head nudge at your clit making you jump at the feeling you felt yourself so close to coming. Ethan had enough of his own teasing and finally he stopped himself into your tiny cunt. You let out a pornographic moan as you felt that tight knot in your tummy snap conning around his thick cock.

"fuck me" you said softly but he heard you and the feeling of you coming around him made him feral. You felt so warm and tight he just couldn't help but fall on top of your small tiny body and fuck up into you make sure to kiss your neck leaving bright red marks as he sucked and licked your skin. You loved the feeling of his heavy big body on top of you taking advantage of you it made you gush even more. Ethan could feel the ring of cum you left at the base of his cock slow began to soap up. This was so gross he could feel your cunt clench trying to keep him in there as he fucked you making sure to hit so deep inside you, literally hitting your cervix at how deep he was.

He just couldn't help it, his gloved hand had made its way up your throat squeezing the sides of your throat making sure to pull you closer to him arching your back even more fucking yourself back into his cock matching his pace.

"You're so dirty" Ethan spoke through his mask. "you know I was gonna kill you right, but no instead I'm having my way with you" his words should make you scared but instead made you moan not wanting him to stop. He felt you get tight again, he knew you were close so he dragged his non gloved hand down your tummy to your nub making sure to rub that little button just enough to have your thighs shake. Hips still fucking into you so rough and fast because he just couldn't get enough of this tight warm soaping pussy he just wanted more.

"Gonna cum please, please cum in me pretty please" you whimpered out just wanting to feel him let go inside of you, wanting to feel his warm milk stuff you full and drip out of you. You felt his pace become a little sloppy at your words but he kept the thrust rough. He just couldn't help at the thought of stuffing you full and claiming you like that he just HAD to do it.

"Gonna stuff you full princess, you're mine" he groaned biting down on the space between your neck and collarbone making you whine and you feel blood drip into his mouth and that made you moan. He continued to groan and moan into your ear gloved hand leaving you throat to grip your hip pistoling into your cunt other hand still on your clit. Then he felt it, he felt you come undone all over his cock with a loud cry and he followed behind making sure to stuff himself fully inside you before cumming.

You felt him thrust into you a couple more time make sure to milk everything from him before pulling out turning you to your back. You could feel everything gush out your cunt and he just couldn't help. He found your phone on the floor making sure to swipe right to open the camera. He made sure to press your legs together with one hand pushing them back against your chest getting a good view of your dripping pussy and adorable fucked out face and taking a picture. You heard the click of the sound of the camera surprising you but not really caring.

"Wait so who are you?" you questioned at this point Ethan was also pussy drunk so he didn't give two fucks. He pulled the hood off his head and proceeded to pull his mask off smirking at your surprised face.

"ETHAN" you exclaimed, mind still hazy but you knew Ethan, he was your best friend. Your best friend just fucked you so good it had you drooling, he literally stuffed himself in you and came inside of you. "What's up bunny, I had fun but now I gotta go" he laughed as you still had a shocked and confused face but said nothing. You just let him tuck himself back into his pants making sure to leave a small kiss on you lips before placing his mask back onto his head walking out the room.

You still sat there as you got a message from your phone, it was Ethan.

E♡: Making this my home screen angel, you look so cute ;) E♡: 1 Image Sent

You gasped as you saw yourself, it was the picture he had taken after he came inside of you. NGL you did look cute you hummed.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 #scream movie #ghost face x reader

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velvette-creations · 6 months ago

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To be loved by death

Interview with the Vampire: Santiago x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

WC: 1.5 k

Prompt: “That’s an awful lot of blood” for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Heavy on the blood play, stalking, oral (f receiving), manipulation, mind control, biting, thigh riding

Summary: You become Santiago's prey

A/n: Ben Daniels as Santiago has a hold on me. First time diving into writing for this fandom that I've loved for so long

A sense of dread crept up your spine as you took the last sip of your coffee at the quaint cafe on the corner. Your eyes darted around, but nothing suspicious lingered in your view. You placed the cup back on the saucer, the ceramic clinking together as you stood and left the money on the table. You hurried across the cobblestones, feeling like someone or something was following you. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, but it felt like danger loomed in the distance, concealed in the shadows of night.

Your pulse pounded in your throat. Heady and unstable. The pavement slapped beneath your worn leather shoes, the pointed heels scraping against the grooves. One unsteady movement caused your downfall and sent you spilling across the ground. Your palms scraped against the concrete as the rough surface tore through your stockings and resulted in skinned knees. Tears of humiliation burned your eyes as you swallowed down the pain. You were thankful this pathway through the park was abandoned this time of night; otherwise, you would have curled into a ball of shame.

“My, my, you took quite the spill.”

You lifted your head at the sound of the voice, shaking the loose curls out of your face as you peered around, your heart racing with anticipation. It was quite odd because it sounded like the voice surrounded all sides of you, echoing through the stagnant night air. You gasped as a man appeared in front of you. Older with coiffed white hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that were not of this world, and something about them made you shiver. The black cape he wore surrounded him ominously as it billowed around his legs.

“What were you running from, ma chérie? Was a wolf chasing after the little lamb?”

You scooted away from him, your palms leaving a trail of blood along the cold ground, frowning as he taunted you. How dare he? He didn’t know you and had no right to be so condescending. If you were in a better mindset, you would have slapped him across the face for his brazenness.

“What’s wrong, chérie? Cat got your tongue.” A smirk crossed his face as he loomed over you. He was taunting you, and it made your blood boil.

“You are rude, monsieur,” you frowned, finally finding your voice while you slowly stood as pain surged through your body. You felt wobbly and lightheaded from the sight of your blood smeared against the concrete—a crimson gash reminding you of your folly.

“I have been told worse,” he chuckled. His demeanor shifted as he followed your gaze to the ruby blood sparkling in the dim light of the lamppost illuminating the park. “That is a lot of blood, chérie.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern,” you murmured, pushing your stinging palms together and cursing yourself for not wearing your evening gloves.

He tutted gently, stepping forward with intricate grace, and instinctively, you wanted to run. A cold dread set over you. Had he been the one you were running from? The looming dread from the shadows, the breath on the back of your neck, the mysterious figure who had set you on edge that sent you sprinting through the park toward the safety of your apartment. This feeling had followed you for a week; perhaps now, the answer stood before you.

“Of course I care, ma chérie,” he chided, stepping closer and drawing your hands into his. His long nails reminded you of spun glass. You stood frozen, fixated on his unnatural, spectral blue eyes as he lifted your palms to his mouth. His warm pink tongue rolled from his lips as he lapped at the tiny droplets of blood that clung to your scraped flesh. A scream felt caught in your throat, yet you were paralyzed. Pointed fangs extended from his mouth, dragging across your wounded flesh and splitting it wider. He reminded you of a cat enjoying their dish of cream.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice faint and cracked.

“The sweet essence of fresh youth,” he sighed happily, your blood splashed around his mouth, “You are going to be quite the treat, ma chérie.”

You trembled like a lamb caught in the wolf’s jowls.

You waited in your apartment every evening at the same time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months progressed and still, he kept the same schedule. The night ticked away, and the city of Paris was still alive as people enjoyed the treasures offered in the seclusion of darkness. As if on cue, you rose onto your bare feet and padded onto your balcony. The gentle breeze wafted through your loose hair as the hem of your black dress tickled your calves. You were mesmerized every night as he floated above the dimly lit streets and toward your balcony. Santiago. You were his dark bride, offering your flesh and blood to satiate his voracious appetite.

You gazed up as his hand cupped your chin and pondered how easily those long glass nails could puncture your skin. His lips were cold as ice as they pressed against yours. Warmth spread through you as blood bubbled to the surface, spilling down the corners of your mouth as he laid the first mark of the evening. Wordlessly, he took your hand, guiding you into the privacy of your apartment as the doors closed behind you. You moved as if under a laden spell as your fingers unbuttoned your dress, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you in silky undergarments. Ones you had scrimped and saved for, savoring the delicate fabric as it slipped through your fingers.

Santiago stepped closer, using his claws to tear them to shreds until you stood naked before him. Not a single tear dribbled from your eyes at the loss of the treasured garments. You moved in a daze, slowly dancing in place to an invisible tune as he removed his cape, leaving him in dark trousers, a white undershirt, and suspenders. His piercing blue eyes remained fixed on you as you continued your silent dance before he pulled a chair into the center of the room. You straddled his thigh before skimming your hands over his muscled arms, marveling at how an older man kept in such shape. You supposed there were many mysteries about him that you would never uncover.

His mouth grazed over your neck, leaving the flesh pure and unmarked until he reached one of your breasts. His tongue rolled over your nipple until it stiffened under his touch. The sharp pain made you gasp and rock against his thigh as your blood oozed into his welcoming mouth. It was intoxicating; the pain was quickly replaced by euphoria. Lust unraveled through your body as Santiago continued to claim your flesh, savoring each drop of warm, delicious blood. Your arms circled his neck, one palm pressing against the back of his head to hold him closer.

Moving gracefully and quickly, he lifted you into his arms and placed you on the bed. He kissed his way down your belly, leaving a light trail of your blood over your quivering flesh until he lay between your splayed thighs. Pain and pleasure blurred together as he feasted on your thighs while his tongue claimed your slick cunt. Blood and arousal intermixed and clung to your flushed skin as your fingers buried in his white hair. The sweet release rolled through your body like waves crashing through the ocean. You knew he savored the blood more.

“Sleep, ma chérie. My sweet little lamb. I will return to you tomorrow night,” he whispered as his fingers gently slipped against the tender skin of your eyelids and closed them. A deep slumber grasped your body, pulling you under the swirling darkness of dreams.

Santiago tucked the blanket around your body, a few sparkling, wet, ruby droplets clinging to your glowing skin as the rest dried into a vexing crust. The next day, you would indulge in a hot bath and scrub yourself clean. He lingered for a moment, watching your chest heave with your shallow breaths, hot blood pumping through your veins—an intoxicating ichor that called to him. How selfish it would be to drain you and deny him such a treat.

“What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?” The words rolled from his tongue, ever the skilled orator and performing, falling onto deaf ears before he disappeared into the black night. You were left to your dreams.

You dreamt of your malcontent Santiago, giving your being over to him as his fangs and claws ripped apart your flesh. Consuming you until you were nothing as blood dripped from him. The wolf feasted upon the lamb. To be loved by death. To be wrapped in it’s tender embrace. What divine bliss.

The next evening, Santiago did not arrive at your door, but instead, a courier who delivered a card and a wrapped box. Nestled inside the box, between layers of white tissue paper, lay a set of silky undergarments to replace the ones ruined the previous night. Inside the white envelope was an invitation to the Théâtre des Vampires on an evening of your choosing.

Join me, ma chérie. Perhaps you will welcome the dark gift.

Your thumb traced over the elegant cursive of his signature. Answers awaited you. Time to let death embrace you.

#fic: iwtv #sweetspicyhc #iwtv fanfiction #iwtv santiago #santiago x reader #interview with the vampire fanfic #santiago iwtv #santiago

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pocoyo-yo · 2 years ago

Text

PASTA & LOBSTER

SUMMARY: i got a white boy on my roster.. he be feedin me pasta & losbter

WARNINGS: leon!kennedy x black!reader, smut, fem!bodied reader, f/m, unprotected sex, a lil cum eating, dirty talk, doggy (pos.), rough sex, manhandling, hair pulling, slapping (ass), lots of degradtion, some praise, situationship, petnames? (lots of 'slut', sweet thing, baby, officer), leon is a meanie but he whimpers, i imagined re4 (remake) leon for this but it can be which ever leon you want tbh

-×▪︎☆▪︎×-

the aroma of alfredo sauce from the styrafoam to-go boxes filled the motel room— you could see the piles of noodles in the back of the reflection from the mirror.

your face was pressed firm into a pillow while your running mascara dripped onto the cream colored covering.

"stay tonight," harsh breaths left the man above you. "need you all night long.."

you shivered— the harsh jolt of your hips everytime your bodies made contact on that sqeauky bed had you hiccuping on cries.

"hey," you gasped at how quickly your head was yanked up by your now messy hair. "we just started don't you go dumb on me now— talk to me.." the slight growl in slurred voice made you whimper.

your eyes dared to roll back in your head. ".. I'll stay— don't ever wanna go.." you pleaded— heavy pants left your swollen lips.

he chuckled, "god, y're such a slut." his hips tilted upwards at a slight angle— allowing his fat cock to sink further into pussy.

you stuttered on moans— legs trembling while your sticky arousal rolled down your thighs. you could barely breathe— your eyes stung with tears.

his thrusts were practically animalistic— not a sense of empathy or corcern for your wellbeing. sex was never this rough until you met him— you loved it, really loved it, you craved it even until you actually got it. until your muscles were tight and your legs were shaking to point the feeling in your toes had faded to numbness.

"leon.. l— leon," you reached back and pathetically pushed at his abdomen. "it hurts— can't breathe.." you babbled.

a sharp sting landed on your ass cheek making you whine and shake your head weakly.

"y're a fuckin' liar.." leon hissed— yanking your head back even rougher than before. he twirled your hair around his fist— the hair he paid for last time he got back. god, he spoiled you. he had better things— more important things to worry about than spoiling you and yet he still did it.

just for you.

"you said you 'don't ever want to go'— but y're trying to push me away? just the definition of a damn slut.." he mocked you— slapping your ass again and groaning softly at the ripple in your skin.

your brows knitted together as you dug your teeth deep into your bottom lip.

"you said it hurts right? what hurts?" leon questioned— his words were laced with painfully obvious fake sympothy.

his cock slipped almost completely out of your pussy before it sunk back in— the girth had you feeling like you were being stuffed full. your puffy pussy wrapped snug around his cock like a glove— a warm, wet, and tight ass glove that leon kennedy couldn't get enough of.

"y're too," you sniffled. "too deep 'n too big— it hurts.."

leon sighed, "poor baby," he sped up his movements earning a pathetic pornographic moan from your swollen lips. ".. you said you can't breathe? fuck, tell me— why can't you breathe?"

your nails sunk into his hard abs before leon grabbed your wrist— pinning it to your back which made you arch further.

"leon.." you mumbled.

"leon? so it's my fault again?" he scoffed.

you pouted, "y're too big— 'can feel it in my chest!"

"chest?"

"m— mhm.."

he grunted, "but you love it, yeah?" strands of his blond hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"I— I love you," you moaned. ".. 'love the way you fuck my pussy, lee.."

leon furrowed his brows at two things; the first was the sudden 'i love you' that left your lips and the second was the nickname you said 'lee'. he tried to believe it was because he had you drunk of his cock that you sputtered out those two phrases, but leon kennedy spent enough time with you in bed and out of it to know that you don't just say 'i love you' to anyone no matter how good you feel, and also you absolutely dispised nicknames.

"I know,"

he definitely did not know.

".. only a slut in love with me," leon groaned—chewing on his lip as sweat rolled down the bridge of his nose. ".. would take a fucking like this 'nd beg for more."

you whimpered loudly, "f— fuuuck!" your body shivered at the throbbing heat that pooled in your core.

the wet sound of his cock sinking back in your creamy folds was music to leon's ears. he looked of at the mirror and grinned before he yanked you by the hair to look as well.

"y're so pretty," he grunts— blue eyes hooded as he rolled his hips against you and dragged out his thrusts. ".. so pretty when you just moan and take it without being a bitch about it."

you whined at the tightness forming deep in your gut— eyes rolling back in your head.

"no," leon's thrusts become unapologetic once again— splitting you open with ease while his tip kisses your clit everytime. ".. y're going to watch yourself get fucked by me— gonna watch this slutty pussy of yours take my cock like a champ." he ordered and your lashes fluttered as you stared at the lewd sight through a blurry gaze.

"l— lee please," you cry out— clenching your fists. ".. oh god—"

he chuckled before a grunt left his lips when his cock slipped out of you mid thrust— it was wet and a ring of creamy white dripped around the base onto the sheets. he let go of your hair and you groaned in fustration and looked back over your shoulder, waiting for him to put it back in.

"leon c'mon.." you huff.

leon released the wrist he had pinned to your back and nodded down towards his twitching cock.

"I didn't say to stop lookin in the mirror," he scoffed. ".. fine, you want to be impatient? put it back in yourself."

you kept staring to see if he would let up but he was competely serious— his heavy hand landed on your ass again.

"make sure you watch yourself do it too, understand?"

you looked at yourself in the mirror on the wall and reached back behind yourself.

you clicked your tongue, "I understand, officer."

before leon could respond you wrapped your fist around his cock and pressed yourself against him. you mewled while you rubbed his tip over your wet, pillowly lips before you pushed it inside of your dripping hole— sinking the rest of his length in you until just his heavy balls were pressed firm against your pussy.

leon groaned, "there you go— not that hard right?"

you yanked your hips forward— slipping off of some of his dick, and then you let him slip back inside of you. leon moaned and glared at you in the mirror while your face contorted with pain and pleasure as you fucked yourself on his cock like he was some dildo.

"this is nice.. fuck.. that's my pretty slut," he stroked your back while you threw your ass back on his cock— moaning softly. ".. you like it like this? just using me?"

your cunt ached and you looked at leon in the mirror. ".. I can't reach deep enough, leon," you complain in a quiet, embarrassed whine. ".. need more of your dick.."

leon grinned, "so you need help?"

you nod shlyly.

"words?"

"I need help," you frown embarassedly. ".. officer."

you could see the slight shift in leon's expression when you called him that. the tight tug of his lips and the sharpened gaze of his blue eyes. his large hands gripped your hips and just from how hard he was holding you, you already knew his handprints would bruise your skin.

there was no warning— all you did was scream leon's name at the sudden change in pace.

you clawed at the messy sheets and let tears fall while the loud, agressive claps of your ass filled the room.

"damn y're tight.." he moaned— his skin finding yours so quickly there a slap every other second.

you clenched your teeth and resisted the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and let your pleasure take over. it didn't look like leon was watching you but you knew he was— another slip up and he'd be on your ass; no cumming for another hour at least and you couldn't handle that.

"ooh," you sobbed— eyes stinging with tears. ".. shit! shit! shit!"

"missed this pussy," leon babbled— whimpers flowing from his parted lips. "missed seein ya like this— missed fuckin ya like this. when it comes t'making it back home— knowin' you'd give it up t'me so easy s'one hell of a motivater.."

you sniffled, "m'close.. make me cum, lee.." your hand snaked in between your thighs and rubbed circles over your sensitive clit.

leon grunted, "don't ya worry— I make this pussy cream everytime I'm in it, don't I?" he hovered over (and close to) you— forcing himself deeper.

your gummy walls were squeezing him with no remorse— pussy spasming around his cock while your body shook uncontrollably.

the tightness in your belly relaxed— the pace of your finger tips quickening over your clit. ".. l— leon!" you cried out— your release rolling down his cock.

leon hivered and let his his head loll back in between his shoulders. "f— fuck that's it," his thrusts grew sloppy as your sticky cum smeared over his cock and dark brown happy trail that led down from his belly button. ".. o— oh my god.. oh my god that's a good little slut.." leon whined before he pulled out of you suddenly.

"on your knees— press those pretty tits together.." he panted heavily.

you quickly scrambled on your knees, cupping your tits and squishing them close together.

leon stared down at you with flushed cheeks— his fist dragging up and down his cock while you batted your lashes up at him. your hair was a tangled mess thanks to him, your eyes were puffy along with your lips thanks to him, cheeks stained with mascara tears thanks to him too, the bruises and kissmarks on your skin thanks to leon s. kennedy himself.

just the concept that he did that to you had leon gulping at the sight.

"f— fuck oh fuck," he whimpered— pre-cum rolling down from the red tip. ".. c'mon c'mon gonna cum all over those fuckin' tits. y're mine. y— y're my slutty girl who let's me fuck her pussy whenever I want, yeah?"

you nod with a lazy grin, "m'yours leon— this is only your slutty pussy.."

leon panted, "that's right.. oh fuck—" he stiffened up as ropes of his hot release landed on your tits while he fucked his fist— little whines leaving him as he came down from his high. his white cum was splattered across your brown skin— some of his already dripping down the curve of yout tits.

you coated your fingertips in his release before you popped them into your mouth— humming at his taste.

you giggled, "thank you, officer."

leon let go of his softening dick before he leaned down and kissed you— it was surprising gentle, his pink lips brushed over your lips before he slipped his tongue in the crevase of your mouth. his teeh tugged on your bottom lip while you ran your fingers through his blond hair.

"you're perfect," he repeated against your plump lips. ".. you're perfect, sweet thing.. fuckin' perfect."

leon s. kennedy was just like, if not worse than you, when it came to saying 'i love you'.

the man has had so much luck with women that it didn't feel all that lucky anymore. the words weren't really in his vocab at this point, but you didn't hate him for not saying the phrase back because you loved him.

though a close second to 'i love you' for leon kennedy was perfection— he never liked to throw that around willy-nilly either. so for now in this.. whatever it was between you two, that was your 'i love you too' and you were grateful to him that he felt close to same way you did.

"let's shower before the motel throws us out.." leon grumbled.

you smiled and kissed his nose, ".. one more time in the shower then, officer kennedy?"

"god," leon scoffed. ".. you're absolute perfection, baby."

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil leon #re4 leon #smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #black reader #this is my white boy of the month #anyway stream area codes #hes so fine omfg i need him #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #ik leon aint no officer in re4 but that word is hotter than agent

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 7 months ago

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Rick Grimes: Sundress NSFW

Because Rick definitely has a thing for sundresses. Still working on writing smut. I am getting more comfortable with it.

You hadn’t worn a dress since the dead started getting up and walking. It was impractical. You never thought you would wear one again. Until you made it to Alexandria. It had been in a box of clothes for anyone to take. It was white with a blue floral print, flowy, and knee length with a small slit up the side. You had taken it on impulse, but it fit like a glove.

You had yet to wear it because the survival part of your brain was still fighting for control. How would you fight in it, run in it, live in it, survive in it for weeks at a time? But today was hot and the dress was cool. Alexandria is safe, right?

You had been cleaning up around the house when Rick returned sweaty and dirty from his day outside. He saw you in the hallway as you were leaving the bedroom. He froze at the start of the hall which made you pause.

His blue eyes drop down and slowly scan you back up. He huffed to himself tilting his head, his eyes still locked on you. “Rick?” Like the spell had been broken he made it to you in a few long strides. He dropped to his knees wordlessly and yanked you closer to him arms wrapped around the waist. You stumbled and gasped his name. He grabbed your ankle sliding his calloused hand up to your mid-cafe before throwing it over his shoulder. You grab at the wall with one hand, the other going to his curls trying to regain your balance.

His head was already under your dress, his hot mouth open and sucking at your core through your cotton panties. He licks a stripe up the center, his nose bumping your clit and making you tremble. He rubs his face into your clothed core. You can feel the prickle of his bear through the cotton. His teeth catch the band and drag them down. “Ya have no idea what ya’ve started, do ya darlin’?” He pushed your leg that was over his shoulder to your chest to slide your panties off that leg. They slide down the other and drop to the floor. “There are consequences for teasin’ me like ‘at.” He nips at your ankle before pulling it more firmly over his shoulder.

Anything you were going to say was swallowed by a moan as he dives face-first into your pussy. He licks and sucks at you like you're going to be his last meal. His tongue laps at your lips before thrusting into your core. You moan your leg that is on the floor wobbling, your knee starting to buckle. Rick's hands find your ass giving it a firm squeeze and pulling you more firmly onto his face. You tug on his curls. The angle change is delicious, and you are forced to let go to go off him to balance between both walls and then you are practically climbing them. Your nails dig into the drywall as you rock into his face.

You can hear and feel his chuckle at your desperation. His hands tighten on your hips and his beard burns at your sensitive inner thighs. When you try to pull up for a little relief his mouth follows you. You curse and he doubles his efforts. The orgasm builds quickly and with a harsh suck on your clit you come hard. Your arousal floods his mouth as he laps it up. What he can't catch slides down his face wetting his beard.

You are shaky, your body trembling but Rick doesn’t give you a reprieve. He continues licking and sucking through your orgasm and into the next. Your thigh squeezes against him, and you push on his shoulder to get him to stop. You are oversensitive now, your pussy swollen from his attention. He stops his assault and focuses on licking the cum off your inner thighs and leaving love bites and sucking Hickies.

He helps you ease your thigh down and off his shoulder but not before leaving one more sucking kiss on your clit making your body jerk. You meet his darkened eyes blissed out by the pleasure you had just received. His hand leaves a stinging slap on your ass, just bordering on painful. “Turn ‘round.” You didn’t have the chance as he spins you around slamming you against the wall, his body tight against you. You hear the jangling of his belt then feel that hard press of his cock. You moan pressing back harder against him. Rick rubs himself against your soaked pussy gathering your juices. He enters you in one smooth hard thrust. Your nails rake down the wall as your pussy stretches to accommodate him. Even after all this time, it is still a snug fit. Rick is long and thick, but your sopping pussy makes for an easy slide.

He starts fucking you wildly. Hard, fast, slightly uneven thrusts. A hand squeezes at your breast while he sucks at your neck. You press your hands against the wall to steady yourself for his punishing pace. He slows pressing his hand to the center of your back while the other wraps around you to pull you a step backward. You slide your hands down as you bend, arching your back. Rick picks up the pace again and you moan at the deeper penetration. “Ah atta girl. ‘at’s a good fuckin' girl.” His hands come up to trap yours. You open your fingers, and he slips his between to intertwine with yours holding them tighter to the wall.

Rick’s thrusts get sloppy. He bites at your shoulder as he hits his orgasm pumping his seed deep inside you. He rests against your back and squeezes your hands one more time before releasing them and pulling out of you. He kisses the bite mark lovingly and seems to regain his control, “An’ how was your day sweetheart?” You look back and release a breathless laugh. “Did I tell ya, how damn good ya're lookin' today darlin’.”

Taglist @xo-zeze

#twd #the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine

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sadhours · 1 year ago

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See You Again

billy hargrove x female reader

a/n: I exist guys. requests are open!

contents: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f and m receiving), reader thinks she might be a prostitute, p in v

summary: you’re a house keeper, and a hot professional surfer pays you to come clean his house

When you accepted the house keeping job, you hadn’t expected the guy to be sex on legs. But here you are, wearing leggings and a loose white t-shirt, buckets of cleaning supplies in each hand while you look up into the icy blue eyes of Mr. Hargrove. He’s in a sleeveless t-shirt, golden arms on display and board shorts, his hair is wavy and long. His house was huge, you knew he was a professional surfer from your quick phone calls but seeing his house, he must’ve been really good at it. Famous maybe. You didn’t know much about surf boarding, had no clue you could make this much money from it.

“Come in,” he says, opening the door wide, “Sorry. My plans got canceled but I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

“Oh, no,” you gush, looking around at the vast foyer as you walk in, this might have been a crew job. You curse yourself for not asking about the square footage of the place. “Don’t even worry about it.”

The house is already clean, so maybe you don’t need more people. It’ll take you a little longer than anticipated but the guys gorgeous so you don’t really mind.

“Here,” he motions towards the hall, “Let me give you a tour.”

The house was decorated pretty minimally. There’s prints of what you assume are him riding waves all over. Tall surfboards line the back wall of the living room. It’s pretty much spotless. A handful of dishes in the sink and a light film of dust on things, but it’s very tidy.

“Your house is beautiful,” you tell him, to which he waves his hand.

“Ah, thanks. It’s a blessing I get to do what I love to afford a place like this. Anyways, I’ll let you get started. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you nod and set down your buckets.

Billy disappears and you get started with the kitchen, washing the few dishes in the sink and then tackle the stove, oven and fridge. The fridge is pretty empty, but it’s interesting to see what he’s got in it. A six pack of beer and a ton of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Eventually you make your way to the bathrooms, first the guest one which is very obviously unused and you can’t help but think that maybe he’s lonely in such a big house. You push the thoughts aside, you’re here for work. And he might be hot as all hell but you’re professional and besides, a guy that good looking has to have a girlfriend. You finish up the guest bathroom and the half bathroom before starting on the master one. It’s huge. A shower with two nozzles, two vanities, a rather large toilet room and huge bathtub with jets. You’re bent over the bath tub, scrubbing away at the dirt caked on the sides. It’s clear he uses the tub every day. He’s got candles all around it, along with a variety of epsom salts and soaps. As you bring the sponge along the dip of the tub, you feel two hands grabbing at your hips. You crane your head to see Billy standing behind you, biting his lip as he peers at your ass.

“Sorry,” he apologizes but doesn’t move his hands, your thighs start to warm. You’re absolutely frozen, speechless as he smoothes his hand over the curve of your ass and then squeezes. “Couldn’t help myself…” he muses, his breathing a bit labored.

You can tell him to get his hands off of you. Stand up, turn around, slap him across the face with your sudsy glove and storm out. But you can’t recall the last time a man’s been so forward with you and you liked the way his hands felt on you. And god, he’s so fucking gorgeous. He bends over, using the hand that’s not on your ass to move your hair back and whispers in your ear, “You have such a nice ass.”

A moan slips from your lips, causing Billy to squeeze your flesh again. His teeth catch your earlobe as he presses his strained erection against your ass.

“Is this okay?” he asks lowly, nuzzling his nose against the shell of your ear.

“Yes!” you squeak out, throat tight as you struggle to catch your breath.

Billy growls, maneuvering his hand underneath you to grope your tits as he kisses against your jaw. It’s happened so quick, you can’t believe it. Your body is aflame with arousal, your center soaking through your underwear and most likely, your leggings. His lips are soft yet firm, hungry as he litters kisses against your sensitive skin. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them over your ass and taking your thong with them. He sits back on his heels, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing. He chuckles lowly, “You’re dripping.”

“Mhm,” you mumble out, dropping your head as he dips his head and licks up the slick coating your thighs. “Fuck,” you exhale, squeezing the sponge in your hand.

“Tastes so good,” he compliments and then circles his tongue around your eager hole. The action pulls a desperate whine from your chest. You feel trapped against the edge of the tub, his hands holding you in place as he spreads your cheeks and licks at your glistening folds. His tongue is strong, has all your nerves screaming out in ecstasy as he rolls it expertly up and down, finally prodding at your hole. Billy penetrates you as deep as he can with his tongue, his thumbs holding your lips open for more access. It’s excruciating. Not quite as deep as you need but incredibly pleasurable. He pulls back and then you feel his fingers pressing at your eager cunt. You can hear him spit and before you know it, he’s entering you with the digits. It pushes a moan from you, satisfied yet surprised. Billy pumps his fingers in and out, groaning as he watches.

“You’re gonna take my cock so well,” he forebodes, making your spine tingle in anticipation.

He angles his thick digits just right, hitting the pads of them against your spongy spot and you cry out, eyes crossing and doubling your vision. Suddenly, his thumb finds your clit and he’s rubbing it in tight, quick circles while he pushes repeatedly against that spot deep inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp out, squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy works quick and relentless. The pressure at the pit of your stomach is building at an alarming rate. You can’t even make yourself cum this fast. The man knows what he’s doing. And it’s something you don’t know how to do. It hits you like a ton of bricks. A rush of pleasure tearing through you as you spasm against the tub, voice wrecked with how loud you moan out. Vision goes white, a ringing in your eyes as you ride the waves. You’re panting hard and his fingers are still shoved deep inside you when you come to. Then you feel his tongue, licking up the mess you’ve made and you whine out, squirming while the grip on your hip tightens.

“Billy,” you whimper out, “too much.”

He doesn’t let up, instead moves his mouth down and sucks at your clit. You yelp, your body moving upright. You pull your gloves off, turning your body and pushing him down onto the tile floor. There’s a cocky grin on his face, looking up at you as you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off, tossing it aside and then unhook your bra. You shimmy out of your leggings next, kicking your shoes off and make quick work of peeling Billy’s clothes off his body. When you tug his briefs down, his stiff cock pops out. The tip leaking as it slaps up against his abs. His mouth falls open as you circle your fingers around the base, squeezing slightly. His cock is beautiful. The prettiest one you’ve ever seen. Thick shaft, pulsing vein up the side of it and a plump, shiny tip. Billy lets out this breathless laugh when you squeeze him again.

“Come on,” he drawls, “you can stop staring and get your mouth on it.”

You don’t have to be told twice, lowering yourself and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, peering up at him. Billy exhales, hand knitting into your hair while he tells you, “Atta girl.”

You swallow around him, taking him a bit deeper in quick succession until he’s prodding at the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose, you hold still as you peer up at him. He’s propped up on his elbows so he can watch, eyebrows knit together while he chews on his lower lip. His blue eyes are dark with lust and they widen just slightly as you begin to bob up and down on his pulsing cock. It’s thick, makes your jaw ache but you’re determined to give him an orgasm he’ll remember. You pull off and give kitten licks to the tip, fingers stroking his with ease thanks to the drool coating his shaft. He moans out, lips parting slightly as he rolls his hips up at you. Next, you swirl your tongue around his tip before taking him back in your mouth, humming at the salty but wonderful taste of him and absolutely loving the weight of his cock on your tongue. You lower your hand down and cradle his sack, rolling his balls in your hand which produces a particularly delicious moan from him. The timbre of his voice is intoxicating, makes you work even harder to make him cum. He knits his fingers in your hair and holds you still, jerking his hips up and forcing you to take it. A man that takes what he wants. Something you’d been needing and you didn’t even know it.

Billy chokes out another moan, “I’m close, baby.”

You don’t stop and he whines, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Gonna swallow every drop, huh?”

He releases, his hot spunk covering your tongue and it’s abnormal how good it tastes. You swallow it with ease and pull off, licking your lips as you peer up at him. He chuckles softly, raising his hands above his head as he catches his breath. The pair of you dress and you tuck your hair behind your ear, “I’ll uh, just finish up then.”

“Alright,” Billy smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. He leans down and kisses you softly on the lips, you try not to melt into it but ultimately fail. But he pulls away first, smacks your butt teasingly and saunters out of the bathroom.

All you have left is sweeping and mopping the expansive house. On shaky legs, you get it done before trailing to his home office. He’s at the computer, typing away when he notices you.

“All finished?” he asks as he stands, grabbing his wallet.

You nod, “Yep. It’s uh… all done.”

Billy smiles, places his hand on your waist as he guides you back to the front door. “We agreed on $250, right?”

“Uhm, yes.”

Billy opens his wallet, pulling out the bills and hands them to you, “Same time next week?”

“Absolutely,” you blush, pocketing the money. You carry your supplies out to the car and get in the front seat before you burst out in giggles, covering your face in utter disbelief that just happened.

***

Next week, you do something embarrassing. Well, you didn’t think it was embarrassing at first but when you actually show up to clean Billy’s house, you realize how foolish it was. You decided to wear an obscenely short skirt and a tank top to clean. But when you knock on the door, an angry looking redhead opens it.

“Uh, hi,” you flush, almost as red as her hair, “Is Mr. Hargrove here?”

“Mr— ew,” she cringes and then opens the door wider, “Billy! There’s a lady asking for you.”

You stand there, feeling ridiculous as you look at the girl. She’s pretty, looks a little too young for Billy but apparently that’s not any of your concern. He jogs up to the door, resting his forearm on the frame as he leans over the young girl and looks you up and down with a seductive smirk on his lips.

“This lady, is my house keeper. Come in,” he steps aside to let you in. “This is my kid sister, Maxine.”

“Max,” she corrects him with a roll of her eyes.

“Hi, Max,” you offer a polite smile. “I’ll just get to work, then.”

“We’ll be out of your hair,” he tells you, “I’m gonna go drop her off.”

You nod and walk further into the house, getting started on the kitchen. You’ve cleaned almost the entirety of the house by the time Billy returns. You’re dusting his bookshelf when you feel strong hands snake around your waist and lips on your ear.

“You usually clean houses dressed like this?” he purrs in your ear.

“No,” you admit, melting into his touch. “Didn’t know you’d have company.”

Billy snorts, “Either did I. Kid showed up on my doorstep. She does that a lot and then acts like she hates me.”

“You two seem close,” you turn to look at him.

“Getting there,” he shrugs, “Didn’t get along when I lived at home. It’s not important.” He smoothes his hand over the swell of your ass, kissing against your neck and then continues, “Wear this just for me?”

Your body ignites with desire but you don’t show it, not that easy. You continue dusting away, but you can’t help tilting your head just enough to give him more access to your skin. “Maybe,” you admit with a sigh.

Billy hums, grazing his fingertips along your bare thighs as he sloppily kisses at your neck. His touch almost has you melting, but you just keep on dusting the same row of books. He bites at your earlobe before he says, “Think you did. Want to drive me insane, don’t you?”

You whimper at the bite, eyes fluttering shut as you drop the feather duster. Billy presses his hips against your ass as he continues in your ear, “It’s working. Can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, gripping onto the sides of the bookshelf as Billy grinds against you.

He mouths at your pulse point, moving his hands around to grope your chest. Your head falls back to rest on his broad shoulder, hand snaking up to lace through his sandy curls. His broad tongue licks up your neck, erection apparent through his shorts against your inappropriate skirt. Suddenly the thought hits you, this is prostitution, right? You’re going to let him fuck you against his bookshelf, mop his floors and take a handful of cash. Sounds a lot like prostitution.

“You can’t pay me,” you gasp out but make no moves to stop him from groping you.

“And why’s that?” he laughs, pinching your perked nipples through your thin top, “You’ve done such a good job. Place looks spotless.”

“Because I’m about to let you fuck me against your bookshelf,” you insist.

“If we move to the bed can I still pay you?” he teases and you whip around.

“I don’t want you to pay me for sex.”

Billy blinks at you, a curious notch in his brow as his lips twitch upwards, “I’m not paying you for that part.”

“But—“

“We agreed on two fifty for cleaning, yeah?”

You nod.

“And what did I give you?”

“Two fifty,” you reply.

His face looks pensive now, tilting his head, “Don’t ya think I would’ve gave you more if I was paying for the sex?”

You hadn’t really thought of it like that. That’s a good point, you figure. Because you really did clean and you would’ve charged the same price had you not sucked him off.

“Okay, fine,” you relent and turn back around, “you can still pay me.”

“Atta girl,” he praises as he spanks you playfully before pulling your skirt up over your ass and hooks his fingers in your panties. He peels them down and you kick them off your ankles. Then you feel the swollen head of his cock rubbing between your cheeks. You sigh out, holding onto the shelves as you spread your legs a little further. His lips are back on your neck as he swirls his tip around your eager hole. He groans, muffled against your skin while he slides the head in. It’s so lovely, stretches just right and he’s huffing the deeper he goes. His breath is hot on your face, fanning against your cheekbone and the slight minty scent raids your senses. You blink up at him, drunk on attraction. God, he’s so pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful, angelic. Golden curls against soft, clear skin and his lips are so pink. He thrusts his hips languidly but deep, holding onto your waist for leverage as he pants against your face.

“Billy,” you whine as he bottoms out, feeling wonderfully full. “Fu-uck…”

“Yeah? Feel good, kitten?” he asks, flicking his tongue against the corner of your mouth, “So perfect, taking me so well.”

“God,” you gush, rocking your ass back against his thick thighs. “So fucking good.”

“Pussy’s so tight,” he growls, low and guttural.

Billy snaps his hips harder, dragging you along his cock as he fills you so deep you feel it in your throat. It’s exhilarating. The fact that you know nothing about this man but there’s this intense, animistic connection between you. The pair of you just cannot control yourselves and that’s why you’re letting this absolutely beautiful stranger fuck you raw in the middle of your cleaning duties. It seems foolish; he’s willing to fuck you without a rubber, how many any women get the pleasure? Because it it’s a pleasure. The heat of his cock, the veins not being cushioned by thin rubber is amazing. And it feels incredibly intimate. Passionate— because it’s so rushed and desperate, that neither of you even thought about a condom.

Billy’s fingers dig into your hips while he pounds into you, panting against your face. He slides his hand down and starts working the pads of his fingers in circles against your clit. It’s over for you. If this doesn’t become a routine, you are absolutely doomed because there’s absolutely no way another man is ever going to fuck you like Billy is now. Books are tumbling down to your feet, his thrusts so powerful that your spine tingles.

“I’m coming,” you gasp, tossing your head back as your orgasm crashes through you.

“Good girl,” he purrs in your ear, “Cum all over my cock. Just like that.”

You whimper, riding out the waves that seem never ending because Billy doesn’t slow down or go easy. He grabs tighter on your hips, driving his cock in deep as he pants against your ear. Billy pulls out, painting your ass cheeks with his hot spunk. He groans as he does so, then spins you around and grabs your jaw, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You’re completely lightheaded from it and you almost collapse when he pats your thigh and asks, “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

#billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader

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vinnystarxx · 1 year ago

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SPANKING - DOTTORE

synopsis: Your “doctor” boyfriend has noticed you’re been hanging out with his clones a lot more than him , he refuses to tell you he’s jealous , but you’ll figure out some other way…

other kinks / mentions : degrading kink , unprotected sex , choking ( if you read in between the lines ) , orgasm control , dumbification , p in v , humiliation(?) , hair pulling , semi-public sex , porn with plot , pet names ( love , dear , darling ) , squirting

LINKS : KINKOTBER | main menu

“Two of my clones requested for you…” your boyfriend hovers over you while you work on some fatui paperwork. “Ah really ? Tell them I will see them soon. I have to finish this for childe.” You replied back , your eyes glued to the papers and you pen gliding across the paper. Your hair tied up into a long wrapped around ponytail , your white fur coat folded over the chair , your black clothes fits your body smoothing , your hand covering your mouth.

Your boyfriend on the other hand..he intensely stares at you , his tall figure makes you feel tiny like a little child standing next to him. “How much longer ?” He spoke again. You didn’t response. Once again , more focus on your work .

He slammed down on the table besides you , making you startled completely , a scream slips your mouth , your eyes widened at the sudden noise and movement . “How much longer are you going to doing this!?” He shouted . “What are you talking about?!” You shouted back in anger. He suddenly grabbed you by your face , pulls you closer as your lips plucked out against his gloved palm.

“Are you going to keep acting dumb or something? You know exactly what I’m talking about and you have nerve to act innocent.” His voice goes deeper while he shakes your head in his hand. “The nerve” he said while you’re genuinely confused on what he is babbling about .

“Fine act dumb.” After that, he forced you into a uncomfortable position on your desk. “You can’t do anything right huh?” He chuckled to himself and slapped your ass harshly. You let out a squealed causing him to grin wider. “I wonder if you do that to the others.” You were too busy questioning what he is talking about you didn’t notice him quietly shifting you around.

“But it’s okay , my dear , I forgive you—there are technically me.” He smiled , watching you slowly but surely processing put the puzzle pieces together. Before you can even speak, you felt a tinge of pain on your ass. “I want you to count—to fifty (50).” He already started.

Slap 1… slap 2… slap…3 Slap 4…

Slap 25… slap 26… slap 27…

Tears were sitting at the edge of your eyes , waiting to fall as soon as you blinked. Your ass was stingy after each slap. It felt like your skin was about to start picking off your muscles.

You were about to lose count before Dottore spoke before you, “alright doll , take a quick break..” you knew your boyfriend well enough to not do that but after all those 30-ish spanks you limped over the desk . You straightened up immediately after feeling your cunt stretch out. Body reacts quicker than you. You heard your boyfriend involuntarily groaning.

“You was so relax just now my darling , what happened—caught you by surprise?” He smirked while pushing him deeper, his length slowly disappearing inside of you. Putting left leg over his right shoulder, making you turn side ways. Your cunt was already slippery from the spanks but it just didn’t relax enough.

“Ahh , there we go my love , I always knew you can” his pulls out, only leaving the tip in, “take my cock” he slams it right back inside, the entire cock disappeared , you let out a loud moaning. The tears from before and more tears stream down your face.

He continues to pound you, break you, destroy you even. Skin slapping skin echos throughout his office , even reaching the lab , where his clones were. They had to listen to the clapping , the moaning , the rocking of furniture. And they were not bothered at all.

“Oo dear , you’re so loud , you wonder if the segments can hear you , huh?” His tip kissed your cervix for the nth time over and over again “or you do want to heard ? Let them know you belong to the original one? Hmm?” He fucked you too stupid for you to reply. Your tongue lolling out , eyes rolled back. He pulled on your hair, arching your back

“I-I’m cumming—cum—” all movements stopped. You let out a whine , whine only pets would understand. “Why should you cum, hm?” He knows even the slightest movements would set you off. “After all that disrespect earlier , why should I let you?” Your face was so fucked out he could almost laugh.

“Please m-master , I’ll be a good girl from now on , I want to cum.” You resisted the urge to just squirm and set yourself off on his cock.

He let out a light chuckle , “ you beg before I could even tell you , you let out such beautiful noises and you’re begging sounds like a dog whining to be let out.” Without warning , he started penetrating your pussy again. “Rub your clit. You want to cum right ? Do it before I change my mind.”

You slowly moved your arm down to your little bud, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, drying out. “Aren’t you the cutest?” You couldn’t say anything , you were catching your climax.

Your stomach turned and turned more and more , the ropes were about to pop. Your pussy squeezed him so tightly and his thrusts became sloppy. “Come with me darling.” He sounded so sweet and gentle as if he isn’t going crazy on your cunt.

The ropes snatched . You squirted. Your legs were shaking violently. You were so sensitive, you can feel dottore’s cock pumping out his load like a machine. His low grunts and his tight grasp that will leave a bruise for sure, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your celvix.

"good job , my dear , you were such a good girl for me." he slowly pulled out. With your sensitivity heighten, you whined, "that hurts s-so much…baby" you didn't have it in you to even move your head.

“I’ll be right back my love.” He pulled up with his pants and pulled your chair underneath your feet to kept your legs bent and comfortable.

“Yea sorry boys, she’ll see you later!” A smug smirk came upon his face.

©︎ 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚡𝚡. ᥲᥣᥣ rіgһ𝗍s rᥱsᥱr᥎ᥱძ. ⍴ᥣᥱᥲsᥱ ძ᥆ᥒ,𝗍 ⍴ᥣᥲzᥲrіzᥱ, ᥴ᥆⍴ᥡ, ᥆r s𝗍ᥱᥲᥣ ᥲᥒᥡ ᥆𝖿 mᥡ ᥕ᥆rks ᥕі𝗍һ᥆ᥙ𝗍 mᥡ ⍴ᥱrmіssі᥆ᥒ, 𝗍һᥲᥒk ᥡ᥆ᥙ !

#🍒v’s stories #🍆𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘳 2023 #genshin impact #genshin smut #dottore x reader #dottore #dottore x you #dottore smut #dottore x y/n #dottore x fem!reader #genshin kinkotber #kinkotber Dottore

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

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—good luck; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader. | resident evil | 0,8k words. ʚ leon visits you at the hospital & you kiss for the first time. ʚ friends-to-lovers. kissing. profanity. pre-re4. ʚ a/n idk why i keep writing awkward first kisses fluff fics someone help i rewrote this twice and still don't quite love it, but here it is.

It has been almost a week.

You've been spending your days within these sickeningly white and bright room, accompanied by the constant hum of air conditioner. You had a visit from your supervisor, asking for mission reports. Outside of your work, you don't have a lot of friends anyway—and the ones you have are either busy in some part of the world somewhere combating bio-terrorism or knee-deep buried in training and paperwork.

Your eyes dart to the door when you hear knocking. Your voice is hoarse when you call out, “Come in.”

It's Leon. He throws a small smile at you when he walks in.

“One of these days—” He sighs, letting the door click shut gently behind him and makes his way towards your bed, plopping onto the chair by your bedside. “—you'll come home in a body bag.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

He stares at you pointedly, taking off his wool-lined leather jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair. “Don't even.”

Your eyes fall fall onto the lines of his body. That body-tight navy shirt really accentuates the muscles that he's built up, short-sleeves putting his arms on display. You're shameless in your staring. You have to remind yourself that he's just a friend—one that you've shared most of the bad with: the blood-smeared bodies, tear-streaked faces, grief-stricken memories, and nightmare-riddled sleeps.

“I heard that you're leaving for Spain.” You distract yourself by bringing up a topic of conversation. “When is that?”

He checks his black watch briefly. “In six hours or so.”

“And you decided to spend those six hours with me? I'm honoured, Kennedy.”

“Of course.” He shrugs. “Gotta make sure you have one last good look of me before I go.”

“I appreciate it.”

“How are you feeling?”

You feel his eyes on you, assessing your injury. Leon has always had an aptitude for observation. He sees the angry purple-and-blue bruises on your neck, noticed the way you wince slightly whenever you speak a little louder. Plus, the sling for your arm is one of the first things he notices when he sees you.

“Like shit.”

“I bet you do.”

“Getting slapped around by a goddamn B.O.W does that.”

“Tell me about it.” He adds a small chuckle. “I had a talk with your mission partner before coming here.”

“Oh, no. What did you do to poor, poor Jonas?” Your eyes narrow, looking at him in an accusatory manner. “You know that this isn't his fault.”

“He left you. Just fucking ran off. What do you mean it isn't his fault?” He argues.

You sigh. “He's new, Leon. Besides, I was the one who told him to run.”

“Don't pull that self-sacrificing shit.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the edge of your hospital bed. “I can't have you dying on me.”

“You're the one running off to god-knows-where,” you retort. “I can't have you dying on me.”

“I won't.” He gives a small lop-sided grin. “Just because you asked.”

You chuckle—or at least try to—before you wince from a sharp throb in your chest. Leon immediately stands up, his chair sliding back with a screech. He hovers over you, one hand on your shoulder and the other feeling the wall for the emergency call button.

“You okay? What's wrong?”

You nod, taking his gloved hand in yours and away from the call button. “I'm fine, you worrywart.”

When you look up to meet his eyes, suddenly the proximity between the two of you is put into perspective. His eyes—brilliant blue, gem-like—are unblinking as they are fixated on yours. You can almost feel his breath.

“We shouldn't —” you say, but your eyelashes flutter. Your heart's pounding in your chest, loud and adamant, repeatedly calling his name—the way it always does for the longest time.

His eyelids droop as he leans forward slightly. “We really shouldn't.”

“Yeah. This is a bad idea.”

“You don't think we should kiss?”

You can feel your lips brushing against his when he speaks. Featherlight grazes call for goosebumps to raise on your skin. “Well, bad ideas can lead to good outcomes someti—”

Your words are muffled, swallowed by him as his lips close over yours. You've daydreamed about this more times than you care to admit, but to actually experience it? Are you hallucinating from the meds?

“Stop thinking.” Leon huffs, biting your lower lip gently. “Just—”

Whatever he's planning to say next is lost as you once again press your lips onto his. It's a gentle kiss—he treats you as if you're made of glass, and at this point, you feel like you may actually break from your heart swelling.

Your hand reaches out to touch his hair, and you feel a sharp tug from your IV. The IV stand nearly topples over, but Leon pulls back. His reflexes are quick enough to keep the stupid metal pole from falling over.

You stare at each other—

and burst out into laughter.

“A hell of a good luck kiss,” he says, settling back down to the chair.

You bite back your smile. “There's a lot more where that came from.”

“Get better soon and we'll find out.”

[ ]

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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OKAY A FELLOW SWIFTY I SEE

Okay here me out I need to express this with another SWIFTY

ALL THE GIRLS YOU LOVED BEFORE IS SO GOJO X READER CODED!!

Gege confirmed gojo was canon a player right??

He’s all about fuckboy life but THEN then he meets you and is so inlove he becomes so domestic and just <333

I NEEDED TO SHARE THIS WITH ANOTHER SWOFTY FOR YEARS OKAY THANKS BYE

every dead end street led you straight to me

wc: 2.1k

cw/tags: established relationship, first meeting, creepy guy at a club but he doesn't get very far because of unofficial bodyguard™ satoru, mostly just fluff and taylor references, little fun surprise at the very end in case it wasn't tooth-rotting enough

note: hi anon!!! first off, i'm so sorry this took so long to complete; i literally love aotgylb and so i was a little stumped for how to write this because it's just,,,,so him. i love him. i love taylor. i hope you love this lol. enjoy!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I really wish I found you sooner.”

“How so?”

“I wouldn’t have needed all that dumb shit with other girls if I knew you were waiting for me. All the lame fights, feeling alone even when I wake up next to someone. That dumb shit.”

“Who said I wasn’t doing dumb shit too?” You look at him with a sleepy smile, warm despite the biting chill of the early morning air. "You couldn't fathom how many boys I was crying in the bathroom about."

"Do you remember their names?"

"Of course not." While you press against the personal heater that is your boyfriend, the long-awaited sunlight starts to touch the very tips of the mountains before you. “You remember my first boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah. The one from Kyoto that dropped out ‘cause he couldn’t stand being weaker than his partner,” he recalls. “He’s also the ugliest of your exes; it’s hard to forget him when I almost exorcized him before I met you.” You burst out laughing at the memory and a puff of your breath appears in front of your face. Satoru follows suit, exhaling a long breath and making boyish dragon noises. “See, aren’t I so much better?”

“Yes love, no one can compete with your dragon impressions,” you tease. With a shiver, you wrap your coat tighter around your body. “I won’t lie, though. My ass is freezing.”

“I was just about to say that,” he agrees, shifting uncomfortably on the stone bench. Even with the several layers of thermal long sleeves, jackets, and gloves, the winter weather seemed adamant on giving you frostbite. “Remind me to never suggest a sunrise hike ever again.”

“But isn’t it romantic? Freezing our asses off and shit-talking our exes?”

“I would not enjoy this if I was with anyone else,” he concludes. “That’s all I’ll say about that.”

“Fine, then go back to that other thing, the one about finding me sooner.”

“Oh, that?” He pauses for a moment, jutting his lips to the side in deep thought. Spots of gold start to catch on his bright white hair, strikingly similar to the snow crunching under your boots. “I was just thinking how much time I wouldn’t have wasted if I simply found you sooner.”

“What do you mean, ‘found me?’”

“I was searching for someone, you know, and I didn’t know what I wanted until I met you.” The corner of his mouth quirks as a memory pops into his mind. “Even though you hated me.”

“I did not hate you,” you argue in vain since you did, in fact, hate him when you first met him. In need of a new partner after your boyfriend (the ugly one, Satoru notes) fell ill the night before a mission, you considered feigning sickness yourself when you saw who the higher ups assigned. It was easier, logistically, to slap on the most powerful asset they had on a mission where a sorcerer dropped out, but it didn’t make him any less annoying when he picked you up at the airport. It was before the days of his current blindfold, when he wrapped strips of white linen over his eyes during the times he opted for no sunglasses. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t unnerve you, the way he navigated through the airport crowds as if his vision wasn’t impeded in the slightest. The aura that he emanated was intimidating and one of sheer power, but the goofy smile and melodic voice contradicted any assumptions you made about the strongest being alive.

“Gojo Satoru?”

“That’s me. I like it when you say my name,” he drawls and you make a quiet gagging noise in your throat.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” you say, walking in a random direction where you hope the driver is parked. To your embarrassment, you turn around to see him standing in the same spot, a smug grin on his face and a thumb pointing in the opposite direction. “I thought I read the lot was this way,” you mutter in irritation while he falls into step next to you.

“Oh, it was,” he affirms and you stop mid-stride. The shit-eating expression on his face only grows wider when he senses your increasing annoyance. “But there’s a dango stand over here and you look like you could use a snack.” He was right, of course, but you didn’t admit it until much later in your relationship. The first twelve hours with him were painfully awkward, to say the least. You shoved dango in your mouth to avoid answering any questions about yourself and stared out the dark window of the car while he snuck glances at you in the backseat. After dropping your stuff at the hotel and slipping into nicer clothes, you walk out onto the crowded street to find Satoru waiting in a sleek-looking suit that would have the girls back home fainting on the spot. He opens the door with a flirty remark that you immediately tune out and you recheck the Cursed Tools in your clutch while he slides into the seat beside you.

“You know your role?”

“I’m a wealthy businessman gunning for the weapon with the blue handle,” he states confidently.

“Green handle, not blue.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One of them has an eons-old Curse stuffed into its hilt…and the other is blue.” He makes a small noise of amusement in his throat and you feel yourself relax a little bit more. “I’ll camp out at the bar and wait for the owner to make a move. Apparently, he’s the type to bite pretty easily if he sees something good-looking and alone. When he’s distracted, you grab the weapon. Got it?”

“Clear as crystal,” he says, swiping his tongue over his top lip absentmindedly. A serious look washes over his face, something in his head making his eyebrows draw together. “What if the guy starts getting handsy with you?”

“I’ll…handle it,” you reply slowly, slightly confused as to why he cares. “Just get the weapon, Gojo. You can stall or kill time however you want before that, but we don’t have the luxury of being able to make a mess.”

“Easier said than done,” he says quietly, “So, no promises.”

It turned out that making messes was simply a part of Satoru’s daily routine. Perched on a bar stool and barely nursing a weak drink, you clearly saw what his idea of killing time was. Lean arms stretched over the back of an overstuffed corner booth in a corner of the club, pulling several nice-looking women into his side while they giggled in his lap. He’d swapped the strips of linen for an expensive pair of sunglasses and he peered over the rim at regular intervals to keep an eye on you. It made your heart pang just a little bit, seeing him easily attract girls to him like a magnet in a paper clip factory. There was no doubt that Gojo Satoru was attractive, yet every doubt existed in your mind as to whether you would ever have a chance with him. You didn’t mean to look so mopey and sad at the counter, but it seems to play to your advantage when the owner of the weapon creeps over with a sinister smile on his face.

“Hello, dear,” he purrs and it takes all of your willpower not to slap him for looking at you like a pretty thing. “Nothing is sadder than a beauty at the bar, all alone.”

“And what were you going to do about it?” You drop the volume of your voice to an enticing volume, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Inject a bit more excitement into your evening,” he replies daringly and the insinuation makes you nauseous. “That man, with the glasses? He broke your heart?” He leans on your shoulder and looks in the direction of your partner, the one who was supposed to be grabbing the weapon while you were busy being ogled by this narcissist. “You need to watch out for men like him, throwing around money and women like they’re of no value. Both have value. You have value.” Great, you groan in your head, he’s gross and a hypocrite, too.

“I wouldn’t say broke it,” you murmur mysteriously. “More like, doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re feisty,” he observes. “I’m incredibly attracted to it.” Shit. On pure instinct, you feel your Cursed Energy flare up as his hand roams dangerously close to your thigh, sliding down your arm with a clammy palm. Despite not being a sorcerer, you know he feels the energy shift when his eyes dart up to yours not with lust, but suspicion. By some stupid twist of Fate, you’d blown your own cover. The weapon owner’s hand suddenly tightens around your wrist, chaining you to the bar counter.

“Let go of me,” you order, completely rid of the stupidly airy voice and naive smiles.

“What did you just–”

“My love, we’re leaving.” Elegant fingers effortlessly pry the man’s hand from your skin and toss them aside like garbage. You find your coat gently draped around your shoulders, and only then does he guide you up and away from the bar, with the weapon owner still gawking in his stool. Somewhere between your Cursed Energy flaring and the man grabbing your wrist, Satoru must have left his posse of gorgeous women to pull you out of your present situation. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, slightly embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. “Thanks for doing that, even though you had to leave your girlfriends.”

“Of course. They never mean anything to me, nor do I mean anything to them,” he replies and it sounds genuine, without any sort of mockery or indication that he was holding it above your head. With one arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he calls the valet to retrieve the car and you find that you don’t mind him holding you close. “Nice play with the energy flare-up, by the way. That was really smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Smoking out the weapon’s energy signature by making it butt against your own?” He shakes his head in disbelief, city lights catching in the lenses of his glasses. “Absolute genius.”

“I…didn’t mean to do that,” you admit and he peers at you out of the corner of his vision. You didn’t know it yet, but to him, you looked prettier than any of the women he was surrounded by inside the club. “It was an accidental reflex when the guy went for my leg.”

“Want me to kill him?” You chuckle, but it dies away when you see the cold expression on his face, nothing like the playful and warm persona you’d just been speaking to. “Say the word and I’ll blow the place to pieces.”

“We’re not supposed to make a mess, remember?”

“And I said no promises, remember?” He helps you into the passenger’s seat with a gentlemanly hand, shutting it after you before settling into the driver’s seat. “Either way, I got the weapon. It was in the guy’s pocket, not in the safe like we thought it would be. But, more importantly, you got out of that creep’s vicinity.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Anytime, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that,” you say firmly and he looks at you curiously. “What?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in being your arm candy; I’m not that type of person.” He pauses for several long moments, stuck in deep thought.

“I didn’t realize I was the type of person to have arm candy,” he states quietly, like it was an epiphany as he pulled away from the club’s valet curb.

“Something must be wrong with one of your Six Eyes, then, if you truly believe that,” you chuckle, trying to make the mood a little lighter. Yet, he’s still staring straight ahead with a frown on his face and a draw between his eyebrows. It was unsettling, to say the least. “Hey, I really didn’t mean any offense–”

“Let me try.”

“What?”

“Let me try,” he repeats with absolute determination. The streetlight casts his face in a dangerous shade of red.

“Try…what?”

“To win you over. Teach you what forever feels like,” he answers and your head feels like it’s been submerged underwater, all noises suddenly becoming muddy and irrelevant. “Show you that I don’t think you’re just eye candy.”

“What the hell are you playing at, Gojo?”

“I’m just tryin’ to show you that I’m not the playboy you have in your head,” he argues and it makes your cheeks heat. “Let me try. If I fail, I’ll go bald or something. Sorcerer's honor.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief but feeling comfortable enough to take him up on the offer. Now, a few years and zero bald heads later, you were freezing your ass off with the man of your dreams on a mountain at six in the morning.

Somehow, you both felt like you’d won the bet when he pulled out that box from his pocket and got down on one knee.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#ask iris!#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff

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auratux · 1 year ago

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Hii it’s me -🥰

Could we get office sex w diluc (and whoever else u want..maybe zhongli ??? Idk)

of course you can !! i love it when my heart anon requests <3 I hope you enjoy!!

i love zhongli i LOVE THAT MAN

cw: praise, pet names (good girl), mirror sex (diluc), impact play, established relationships, characters 18+, f!reader (lmk if you see something and I missed it!) || unedited/ not proofread

diluc

in front of Master Diluc's desk was a mirror attached to the door. He said in the past the reason why he added a mirror to the door was so he could see the faces of those he refused to do business with. He enjoyed seeing their saddened and disappointed faces.

It only drove him to think that he was the best in the wine business - which he was.

but now it held a different cause.

"So big," you choke out, knees buckling at every thrust, his balls slapping against your cunt, the move leaving a stinging sensation that would add when he kept his motion.

diluc's hand comes down on your ass, feeling the warmth the spot emits from his harsh touch. he rubs small circles on it before repeating the same action - to which you cry out every time.

his fingers move up from your ass, up your forearms, and to your elbows. they curl around it, pulling your arms back. you were now in his upmost control.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans, pisitoning his hips into you. his skin is on fire - his forehead glistening and small red strands stick.

the first few buttons of your shirt were undone, revealing the delicate white lace of your bra yet it only did so much in covering your tits. with every move, they threatened to spill out and he didn't mind if they did.

Through lidded eyes, you gaze upon the mirror, instantly embarrassed by the sight.

your face was flushed, your skin trickling with sweat and your tits almost showing. the bottom of your shirt was ruffled and hitched up to your mid-stomach and your skirt was no longer even on your body.

Your arms were pulled back behind you by your lover who was burying himself deep within that you called out his name.

"don't you look beautiful?" diluc asks, meeting your eyes within the reflection. his hot breath against your ear causing goosebumps to arise, the hair on your arms standing ever so slightly.

"Y-yes," you mutter, tugging on your lower lip and hanging your head down.

a noise of annoyance leaves him as he slows his hips down and he shakes his head when he hears you while - yet he can feel the movement of your hips, pathetically trying to get him to move.

"I want you to look at yourself," his hand reaches forward, grabbing your chin and forcing you to stare at your reflection. "you can do that for me, yeah?"

zhongli

"The director is right below us, you wouldn't want her to hear us, right darling?" Zhongli whispers, his gloved fingers squishing your cheeks together. "If not, I suggest you stay silent."

You whimper underneath him, legs sore and aching - twitching at every pump of his hips. your face aches from the hold he has on you, but you love how he shuts you up like this.

the head of his cock bruises your cervix with every thrust, your walls gladly accepting him and squeezing him tight. over and over, you take him in and swallow him for all he's worth.

the director, Hu Tao, was gone for business (more like on her break but she likes to call it business) and wasn't going to be back for a while. turns out she ended up coming back early with a call of her name as if she announced herself to her consultant and went directly to her office.

"zhongli," you moan out, pussy fluttering around his cock. his veins brush against you, every sensation sending pleasure through your body that it was certain you would pass out from the stimulation.

"Feels so good," you sputter, drool cascading down your chin and onto his gloved finger.

"Yeah?" he pants, hanging his head and gazing at where you connected. his eyes lock at your pussy, loving how puffy and perfect your clit was.

his spare hand wanders down your body, pinching the small bundle of nerves that has you crying out in ecstasy, your nipples erect, and taunting him to take one in his mouth.

"shut up," he grunts, suddenly sticking two fingers into your mouth but not enough to choke you. "suck," he demands, his eyes clouded with lust and the desire to see you at your lowest point.

with doe eyes that shimmer from the light above and the glossiness of tears, you blink a few times before running your tongue around his fingers, flattening underneath the pads.

the taste of leather fills your mouth and the texture of his gloves adds all to the sensation. you moan around his fingers, never breaking eye contact with him.

"what a good girl," he moans out, eyes squeezing shut, inhaling sharply. "such a good girl."

#diluc x reader #diluc x reader smut #diluc smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader smut #zhongli smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #diluc #zhongli

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sanjoongie · 10 months ago

Text

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞

🥀Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: royal, navy, space, sci-fi

🥀Trope: role reversal

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you're left with one simple task... to be his cum bucket

🥀Kinks: uniform kink, oral (m), masturbation (f), degradation kink, mean dom! seonghwa, brat sub! reader, spitting, deep throating, choking, thigh slapping, creampie(s), overstim, marking, fingering(f)

🥀Word Count: 1,541

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Fourteen: threesome/ritual

Seonghwa strode into the Captain's Quarters, his heels clacking purposely against the polished-with-wear metal. He tossed a long strand of hair out of his face, eyes looking for you. He stood in all his powerful glory before you in the bed. The leather of his outfit creaked despite the gold embroidery. He was clad in such from the tops of his shoulders starting with his long jacket, the corset like adornment along his ribcage, the straps that held the sheath for his sword and guns, and finally the pants and boots, that left nothing to the imagination, to be honest.

You were where he left you, naked and in bed. You had only the stark white sheet hiding your bare skin, but even that seemed to irk the man that used to be your first mate.

The U.S.S Utopia had been your ship, and you, its Captain. You had sailed her all along the Milky Way, plundering and stealing, after the American government fell to the people during a coup d'état. Then Seonghwa, with an evil grin, had convinced the crew to mutiny against you. You loved the Utopia and had pleaded that you would do anything to remain on board and not get plunged into the freezing depths of the dark sea, aka space. Seonghwa gave you one choice: remain as a useful tool, as a cum bucket for him, and he would allow you to stay. You agreed immediately and had remained so for several months now. And he had not tired of you yet.

The now-captain ripped his sheets off your body, eyes searching still for the dried cum on your skin. He seemed enamored with leaving his mark on you, in more ways than one.

“Lover,” he said in a sing-song voice, clueing you in that he was in a cruel mood. “I told you to remain here, in my bed, with my cum on you.”

“I did, Seonghwa!” You insisted.

Seonghwa waved a gloved hand in your vague direction. “I see nothing.”

“I was cold!” You insisted, trying not to look eager. “Perhaps the sheet brushed it off!”

You had washed his cum from your body as soon as he had left the room. You wanted him to come back and punish you. You looked forward to it, in fact.

Seonghwa sighed heavily, undoing his pants. “I don’t know how you ever were in charge of this ship. I’ll just have to repeat my handiwork and then some.”

There was some type of cruel kink for enjoying Seonghwa fucking you in an almost carbon copy of your captain’s outfit made to fit him. You loved the feel of the leather against your bare skin. There was something dirty and cheap about the way that Seonghwa couldn't be bothered to disrobe while he fucked you. You were addicted to being used by your past first mate; you simply could not get enough of it.

“Suck me off,” He said lowly after he had undone his pants just enough for his cock to be pulled out.

You took his soft cock and pulled him into your mouth. You stared up at the cruel captain with wide, eager eyes. You knew everything that he loved--and exactly what set him off. Your tongue curled around his head as blood rushed to his cock, and then he commanded you to touch yourself. You made loud noises of pleasure as you rubbed a finger against your clit and his cock grew in length even faster. Soon you were able to bob up and down him, hollowing your cheeks so that he could feel all of you.

Simply put, Seonghwa just wished to order you around. You had spent most of your career belittling him and his self-worth. So now that he was captain, he took every chance to return the favor. It never made him feel less than the whimpering second in command he always saw himself as, but still he pushed forward.

Seonghwa’s fingers floated over your head, a pretend-softness before he grabbed your hair harshly. When he pulled you off his cock, you kept your tongue out of your mouth and he spit onto it. Then he shoved you back on his cock, practically face fucking you. He wanted to see those tears form in your eyes and hear the chokes as you barely managed his length in your mouth and down your throat.

“You love sucking my cock, don’t you, you pathetic whore,” Seonghwa spat. “Always eager to have a dick in any hole you can get.”

Case and point, you pushed a finger inside of yourself, moaning loudly. That made anger burn in Seonghwa’s dark eyes. “I didn’t say to fill yourself, did I?”

Seonghwa pulled you off his length again, and you began to protest. “Seonghwa!”

“That’s Captain to you!” He snarled, and your mouth snapped shut.

He began to pace in front of the bed, brewing up a plot. How did he want you now? How did he want to cover you with his cum? There were so many options but he knew he needed to walk the ship again later, to keep an eye on his crew that had been so easily swayed to mutiny against you.

“Captain, please,” you begged. “I’ve been good.”

“Puh-lease, you don’t know the meaning of good,” Seonghwa spat his words. He pulled at his corset, and you saw your way in.

“Doesn’t fit you as well, does it, Seonghwa? Too snug at your ribcage or too small for your waist?”

“I wear this outfit better than you ever did,” Seonghwa roared, eyes like coals in his head.

Seonghwa made you ride his cock while he laid down on his bed, fully clothed of course; made you stare at him in your old captain’s outfit tailored to fit his body. He commanded you to speak of how he is a better captain than you and if you were interrupted by a sharp thrust of his upwards, you got a slap on your thigh with his leather glove. And when he came inside you, he held you down on his cock, a cry leaving his plush lips. Only once all of his cum had been pumped in you, did he allow you to raise yourself up, watching as his cum clung to his cock and poured out your cunt.

But that wasn't enough for Seonghwa, oh no, he wanted more.

He painted your body with bruises and cum, never tiring of abusing your body and seeing the stars light up in your eyes as he did. Because make no mistake, he was well aware that you loved to provoke him and what followed. But he was too drunk on his power, too drunk on you, to stop himself from giving you exactly what you wanted.

Seonghwa fucked you against the headboard, gloved hands wrapped around your throat, chest peeking above the corset, looking like a debauched pirate captain that ever sailed the Milky Way. His evil grin was apparent, eyes traveling all over your face as you made choked noises.

He released your throat, but you only whined, moving his hands back. “Please, Seonghwa, more,” you said with a raspy voice.

“Such a slut for me, aren't you, lover?” Seonghwa grinned in triumph.

“Yes, Captain,” You agreed, rocking your hips eagerly forward.

Seonghwa squeezed his hands around your throat again. He gauged by your face how close you were to your climax, and when he let sweet air invade your lungs again, you came so hard for him that your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You were drowning in pleasure and still, you groaned about him making a further mess of your pussy. Seonghwa looked you straight in the eyes and fucked you through your orgasm. He drank in every scrunch of your nose and whine about it being too much (it was everything you wanted), until he came inside of you again. You both felt his cum slip out of your hole as he fucked your cunt, following his pleasure. There simply wasn’t enough room for all his cum and yet still he continued to unload into you.

“You exist to be my cum bucket, lover, and don’t you forget it,” Seonghwa whispered into your ear.

Later, when you were passed out in his bed and only the lights of the stars left to reveal all the ways you belonged to him, Seonghwa admired his handiwork. His cum was all over your body, marks of his teeth and hands painted on your skin. And still it wasn't enough. You had screamed his name hoarse, sounding bittersweet from your lips, red after the blowjobs and biting. But it never erased your jeering face of old from his memory.

So he pushed his hands between your legs and patted your cunt. Your body jolted and you groaned as you woke up. Seonghwa's lithe fingers played with your pussy, still wet with desire and his seed. And after everything he put you through, you reached between your legs and pressed his fingers further into your body.

Seonghwa smiled, the first one of pure glee rather than cruelty. You were programmed to be greedy for him, and that was enough.

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Fourteen: threesome/ritual

#fryejoongfff24 #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #atz smut #topaz's work #ღatz #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader

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jeding-png · 4 months ago

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Phew... yes, now I can definitely talk about chapter 158. Probably.

Everyone who did not take advantage of the promotion "Buy a new chapter of VADD and get anxiety, tears, anger, despair, and a sleepless night as a gift!" it's time :D

In the previous chapter, we are shown a conversation between the Duke and Derrick ahead of time.

Thanks, we were satisfied with the slap of the young duke, but now the cold colors of the room disappear, and we are immersed again in the events of the coming of age ceremony....

And Penelope's poisoning happened!

Now the author frees us from the brainwashing... that is, from the unreliable narrator, to see the events from the other characters' point of view!

Have you ever heard the fans screaming during a football match? Everyone shouted in this chapter about the same way.

Doctors think they are almost never needed at events, except to give headache pills. That's why Callisto can't figure out where these strange creatures have gone.

No, it's not superman, not a bird, not an angel, not a demon, and not even Jack Frost. This Winter pleases me with his emotions.

In addition to unobtrusively promoting his manicurist, the Marquis says he has an antidote. He's paranoid, remember?

Winter declares that since he's wearing a white coat, he can be mistaken for a doctor and... LET HIM GIVE PENELOPE THE ANTIDOTE, GUYS!

Don't forget, Reynold Eckhart won't let others take his place of honor as a loudmouth! Therefore, he intervenes when everyone has doubts about the effectiveness of the vial in Verdandi's hand.

Even remembering the previous chapters, where Reynold distrusts Winter and looks menacingly in his direction every time, but he wants to help Penelope with all his might. Therefore, he believes in the marquis's power to help save his sister.

So desperate.

And my shipper heart was broken because they weren't shown together.... that's not relevant to the post. Anyway—

Everyone is on their nerves. The characters, the readers... except Penelope and Derrick.

I need the second frame detailed. But in the end, Callisto understands that if nothing is done at all, then Penelope can really die. Of course, under the pressure of all the hesitation, he allows Winter to use the antidote. Nicely warning him. Very gentle.

It was like....

"Okay, weird marquis, I'll let you see the love of my life, the most beautiful and strangest woman in the world, the future crown princess, my future wife and the mother of my future children... but if you do her worse, then know that first I will kill you, and then myself, so that in the next world you will not flirt with her. Got it?"

Ahem... this is not a direct quote—

But really, look at this shift in Callisto's gaze, which resembles a wild beast, to genuine hesitation and concern as he looks at Penelope.

His bloody gloves gently hold the face of Penelope, exhausted from the poison, whose hair seems to be losing its vital color. And the red marks on her pale face are as clearly visible as on the crown prince's white gloves.

But really, the whole chapter I just melted from the way he hugged her tenderly, trying to protect her from everyone in the world. His despair, his understanding of powerlessness.

Okay, Calliope's angst scene limit has been reached. It's time to get back to Zombie Derrick and the angry Duke!

Derrick reacts to the Duke's words as I do to my chemistry teacher. "I don't understand anything and in general what you want from me." Yes, like this.

But the following measures were taken:

Becky was imprisoned.

Locked Ivonne in the room because it was her maid.

Derrick was forbidden to question the maid.

So the duke authoritatively shut his eldest son's mouth. But I found it quite interesting to observe Derrick's thoughts and behavior.

Get your tissues ready, because in the next chapter we will see Callisto and Penelope again, and then the investigation itself!

And now I need a hug.

Added: At the end of the chapter, there was a message about merch. This chapter seems to have been a great anti-advertisement company for the merch with Derrick.

#villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #death is the only ending for the villainess #death is the only ending for the villain #manhwa #vadd #vadd spoilers #vadd new chapter #vadtd #ditoeftv #penelope eckhart #callisto regulus #reynold eckhart #winter verdandi #derrick eckhart #duke eckhart #ivonne eckhart

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jejuboo-s · 2 years ago

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ʚ stop kissing me, please! ɞ

ʚ pairing: k. mingyu x fem!reader

ʚ genre: fluff + smut

ʚ warnings: PROOFREAD!!! established relationship, morning/sleepy sex, unprotected sex (wrap ur willy pls!!!!), petnames: baby/princess, low caps.

ʚ nsfw under the cut, minors dni!!! ɞ

sliding on a pair of white socks, you glided towards the door and opened it, revealing a focused mingyu chopping a pair of vegetables.

“gyu, what’re you doing up this early?”

ears perking to the sound of your raspy voice, he looked up at your hunched figure.

“more importantly, what’re you doing up this early? did i wake you up?” he questioned, face softening at your eyebags.

you weakly moved your head from side to side, spreading your arms open motioning for a hug, he immediately set down his knife and gloves to run into your embrace.

mingyu picked you up by the lower side of your thighs, burying his face into your neck.

“my baby sounds and looks so pretty in the mornings, even without getting ready.”

letting one hand come up to his shoulder to playfully slap him, your face heated up with embarrassment.

“seriously, gyu, your so corny.”

what seemed like a few soft kisses on your neck quickly turned into needy and sloppy kisses. in response, you shifted uncomfortably in his embrace, you took a handful of his hair softly tugging at it.

“don’t want this? i’ll stop right now if you’d like me to.”

“nono, keep going just—let’s move somewhere more comfy, please?” you requested.

nodding, fixing his grip on your thighs, he carried you back to your shared bed, laying you down below him. he moved some hair to the side of your face, admiring your entire face.

even more kisses were pressed on your skin, now starting from the top of your forehead to the bottom of your chin.

“stop teasing me, pretty please.”

was it the way you moaned the sentence out? no, it’d probably been the way your voice sounded. oh how he loved your raspy, morning voice. and of course, he could never say no to his ‘pretty girl’.

mingyu quickly discarded of his white t-shirt, throwing it aside. while he did so, you wasted no time in messing with his sweatpants’ drawstrings; untying them- pulling his sweatpants all the way down.

“you think you want to use lube, babe? if you don’t, i’ll take my time, i know it hurts getting in when i don’t use it.”

you gave him a weak response that you wanted to go without it, not wanting to waste much of your energy on your voice. he was the one who got you so needy so fast, so he’d have to finish this “so fast”.

mingyu’s eyes lingered past your neck, eyeing your flimsy nightgown, he groaned. currently, you’d been making grabby hands at him, cheeks tinted pink, whining about how long he’d been taking and how he had to solve *his* problem.

giving in, he pushed up your gown and pushed aside your cotton panties. just looking at the sight made his mouth water. you rested your head on the pillow behind you, making sure not to hit the headboard.

digging in, he attached his mouth on your pussy whilst keeping his arms locked on your hips. the feeling made you subconsciously cover your mouth. annoyed by this— mingyu used his spare hand to force you to moan as loud as you’d want.

“don’t stop your moans, baby. i want to hear them, love hearing your raspy voice.”

the breathy moan that came out from your mouth went right from his ears straight to his dick. while sucking on your clit like a lollipop, he instinctively thrusted his hips into the mattress softly, trying to get some type of friction.

“gyu, i—.. i can’t..”

“don’t call me by my name, what’s that name you always call me in situations like these, hm?”

you tried your best to suppress the urge of calling him by that, but your mind was currently mush, clouded by all the pleasure being given to you.

“fuck, sir please! will be so good f-for just you!”

he hummed against your pussy, taking his arm off of your wrist that’d been against you covering your mouth, using 2 fingers to scissor you; preparing you for his dick—aaanddd more importantly getting you closer to the edge.

the way your eyes fluttered shut, and how your hands flew to his hair just to have something other than sheets to ground yourself on— he could tell you were close.

“sir, c-can i..”

he found it so cute when you asked permission to cum, mingyu was all about service. cooing at you, he gave a small kiss to your clit before you stained his pretty face.

you watched him bring his face up to take his fingers and clean off his face. the way his tongue licked all of your mess off was entrancing.

both falling into an awkward silence, broken by your giggles, both looking at each-other with such endearment— you motioned for him to come closer hugging his neck,

“want you inside of me, like this, close to me.” you whined.

a shade of dark pink clouded his face, his forehead kissing yours. you both watched each-others expressions as he aligned his dick with your entrance, sinking in.

your eyes shut tightly, “a-a little slower please.”

“i’ve got you baby.”

you moved your hands down to his back making sure you wouldn’t hurt mingyu’s neck on accident—scratching. both you and mingyu hissed, sharing the pain.

you finally got all of him inside of you, letting your fingernails stop. you panted, hugging his neck once again. looking up at him, you gave him a nod.

humming, he started rolling his hips at a delicious pace— you moaned breathily each thrust, head backing into the pillow beneath your head even more.

“oh my god mingyu.”

you felt his forehead get off of yours, just to then feel his hot tongue on your neck, massaging that one spot of yours you found all sensitive.

you let yourself go to the rhythm of his thrusts, yes, it was slow but he felt so deep. you guys felt as if you were one, and damn, it was turning you on.

and maybe you couldn’t tell drowsiness apart from how horny you were, but whatever it was, it was really getting to your head; you weren’t complaining though.

“fuck, m’ close princess— cum with me.” gyu whispered.

you held on tighter feeling his hot breath on your neck, words going to your core. you grinded your hips harder on his length, urging him to go faster.

he abided by your orders, just as you wanted to. he picked up his pace and used his thumb to rub your clit— was he always this good at multi-tasking?

from the way he licked the sweet spot on your neck, to rubbing your clit, and finally making sure his thrusts were hitter that spot so deep inside of you; it felt like you were floating inside of his grasp.

“i-i..”

“thats it let it all out baby.”

you held him even tighter than before, as if he’d float away if you didn’t do so— following his command, you cried out his name one last time before panting softly.

mingyu thrusted a few more times to help you ride out your orgasm and to let him reach his own. mingyu pulled out right before he made his own mess on your lower abdomen.

“c’mere.” you motioned.

he hugged you, pressing the now millionth kiss onto your lips. looking at him with a “really?” type face, you both burst out giggling admiring each-others features up close.

“let’s clean up later, wanna stay like this a lil more, gyu.”

“anything for you, princess.”

#🌪️ jonghour #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader smut #seventeen x reader smut

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