#corn moan

[jiminrings]

accidentally opened jin live on my phone in full volume in the middle of this coffee shop n i have never heard an overpriced overrated mediocre snobby ass place THIS quiet!!!!!

[gh0stn3lius]

A big snoozer is keeping me in bed making furry art

Snoozer in question

[thedevilsfamiliar]

I’m always going to be on the firm stance of sex scenes being fucking annoying

[ghostpepperworld]

Sweet and Spicy Thai chili is the best flavor of punch tuna

[screampied]

GOVERNMENT HOOKER ?! — GOJO & GETO ☆

ᡴꪫ headline. what happens when you’re the popstar too? even better question: what happens when you show up to a show with no panties thanks to your band mates gojo and geto?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, thrēesomes, semi-public themes, unprotected, fucking backstage, praise, dirty talk, geto showing gojo how to touch you, cucking, hair pulling, double penetratıon, size kink, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), gojo gets cancelled (again)

an. ignore alejandro that chapter never happened hahakdlf

popstar!gojo mlist

“um hello. if i wanted to watch you two make out i’d watch corn or something.” gojo pouts, scowl and all. he watches as his other bandmate—geto, the star bassist shove his tongue down your throat. he was so jealous, maybe having intimate relations with your two mates wasn’t the best idea but who cares, right?

“porn not corn,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from geto to stare at the popstar. gojo had the biggest frown on his face, he wanted some too. besides, it was about an hour before the show would actually start and he was bored out of his skull. he couldn’t help but roam his eyes all down your attire, the bedazzled rhinestones that stuck against the fabric, your fishnets, the way they effortlessly stuck against your skin. “what?”

geto leans back with a desirable slouch, tangled knots of his hair falling against his broad shoulders before he hums. “oh, he’s jus’ jealous. he wants to kiss you too, princess,” and geto briefly unstraps his mic that was attached near his chin. “to be fair though, gojo doesn’t know the first step on pleasing women.”

“uh huh, and you do?” gojo glowers, purposely sitting right between the two of you. the both of you dramatically groan, the mood suddenly ruined from the spoiled popstar before he slings an arm around you. “h-hey, pretty.”

and his voice cracks— oops.

you giggle and it only makes gojo’s pout deepen. he mopes and you cup his face with a cheeky grin. “satoru, stop whining. if you wanted to touch me too, you could have just asked,” and with irises as azure as a blue day sky, they dilate. gojo melts from your touch alone, a thumb of yours strokes his left temple and his attention’s suddenly captivated. “do you want a kiss too?”

“y- yes,” he stammers, hearing geto snicker directly next to him. he glares, uttering a, “shut up,” and as his eyes focus back towards you, he subtlety glances at your foxy glossed lips that were cutely pursed. “i wanna kiss you, please..”

it was winsome in a way. out of all the times gojo kissed you, he acts like this was his first time. but in actuality,

he’s always been a bit addicted to you. you sort of came out of nowhere, he’s always been a well known popstar all around the world but with you, he’s had to share his spotlight. not that he ever really minded, gojo would always share if it was with you.

currently—the two of you were touring together, you weren’t as influential to the famed pop genre, but you had a bit of a fanbase yourself. you started about a year ago, gojo was a … secret fanboy of you back when the two of you first met. he heard your voice and knew he had to have you.

have as in, have you as an opener for one of his shows which then turned to many. and now, he’s on his highly anticipated world tour with you. die hard fans immediately wanted to know more about you as you started to make your mark in the industry.

whilst your lips gingerly press against gojo’s, he lets off a sweet harmonic moan.

you taste so sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s always had a craving for sweet things, you’ve just helped him indulge in it further.

a tongue of his runs against your bottom lip. he sucks on it succinctly, tasting the syrupy flavor of lip gloss that bedaubs over your lips. he deepens the kiss by a mile—gojo brings two hands toward your waist, two thumbs swiftly rubbing against your sides as each tongue rummages through and through. a smile compresses against your lips as you make out with him, sucking on his tongue and he whines for more.

“he’s gonna fall ‘n love at this rate,” geto titters, prying his best friend off. gojo pouts once the kiss devestatingly breaks. a slippery concoction-like string of spit wrests away from each lips as gojo exhales deeply. geto leans in to kiss underneath your neck before speaking in a perky purr. “hm, we’ve maybe got a good… what—” and the bassist glances at the watch that sticks to his wrist. “forty minutes left?”

“hey, don’t hog her,” gojo grumbles, and they’re both practically fighting over you. geto smugly grins, lowering his head towards your thighs to nip more near your cobweb-styled fishnets. you lie back against the sofa as the two both stare at you with such lust piercing into their eyes. “you’re so pretty,” he puffs, a thumb of his stroking against your chin.

“toru, c’mereee,” geto slyly says, ushering him with two moving fingers. gojo gets beside him and they’re both hovering over you. leaning back against the cushioned furniture—you sprawl your legs out a bit, tossing off your high inched stilettos. “feel how wet she is for me— eh, i mean us.”

you were a bit wet, profusely wet after making out with geto previously for so long.

with his hands meandering all down your body in the process, his knee goes between your thighs every few seconds. your laced panties were merely stuck together against your skin—gojo feels himself pant once he notices the little dampened spot near the middle of the cottony fabric. “hurry up though,” you stammer. “kento’s gonna kill us if we show up late for another show.”

kento nanami being gojo’s stern manager,

“i got you, princess,” geto hums, grabbing ahold of your wrist. gojo however was quite eager, desperate to run his fingers near your soaked entrance. “satoru, don’t drool over her now. have some manners.” he teases, showing him how to skim his fingers against your now exposed clit. your panties were now pulled to the side and you gnaw on your bottom lip to suppress a few of your incoming moans.

“shut up, s-suguu,” he scoffs, a thumb of his ghosting down your swollen slit. gojo’s already mesmerized, oh, you were sopping wet. it should be a crime to be this drenched. although— he’s a bit timid on what to do next. gojo leans right between your legs, planting a soft kiss near the inner crevice of your legs. “m-mmh.” he coos out, the scent of your arousal immensely pouring into his nostrils. you were so addictive, he barely even had a taste of you and he already wanted more.

“she’s pretty isn’t she,” geto whispers and as you look down, they’re both right between your thighs. greedy, you knew they’d probably share. geto playfully sinks his teeth into your thigh before he trails his face up. he creates a single licking trail against your folds and you moan. gojo watches, the direct spot he licks against was your sweetened clitoral hood. “get her wet, like this,” and his long black lashes close. the warmth of geto’s tongue already makes your back arch. he’s gentle yet precise—he slurps you for a few more moments before a stubby thumb of his prods inside of your pulsating clit. after a few quickened seconds he pulls away, furtively smiling at gojo. “can you do that orrr do i gotta hold your hand?”

“oh fuck you, man. i can eat pussy.” gojo glares, and their banter was always so entertaining to watch.

you giggle, seeing gojo’s annoyed frustration before the bassist gets up to stand. you glance up at him—he’s towering over you, immediately you lick your lips at the sight of his skin tight jeans.

oh, how they perfectly stuck against his skin, quite literally skin tight. he had such a big bulge already poking out, his zipper wouldn’t even zip fully. geto’s fly was proudly open, he hums to himself as he sees your eager hands paw against his pants. with a big hand grabbing onto the crown of your head, he cheeses. “hmm, you want a taste of somethin’ too, huh? need me to train those pretty vocal chords before the show?”

you nod, but his hand snakes its way to cup onto your chin. “words,” he purrs, a thumb peeling down your bottom lip. you moan once you feel gojo starting to lay his tongue flat against your cunt, relishing in your precious flavor. he’s already drooling over you, making you ten times more wet. gojo was gonna order something before performing—but eating you out was cheaper, and far more tasty than his original craving dish. “tell me what that throat wants, pretty.”

as you’re pursing your lips to speak, you moan at the way gojo’s right between your legs, teeth of his playfully gnawing near your thighs whilst he’s buried face full into you. “w- want your cock,” you mewl out with pretty polished eyes. geto’s jeans, the bulge was all pressed against your face— he yanks down his pants only to rub your face against the printed fabric. “suguru, need it.”

“fuck,” he grunts, feeling how you voluntarily roll out your own tongue, flicking it against the edges of his boxers. his bulge, it leaves you with a non-taste in your mouth, your legs start to quaver from gojo’s tongue. the popstar’s eating you out as if he’s haven’t had a good meal in years. he’s cutely moaning into your cunt, feeling the growing strain in beneath his briefs himself. geto delicately grabs a fistful of your hair before he raises a brow. “teeth, pull ‘em off with your teeth. we won’t use our hands today, baby.”

with a pout, you comply—leaning in, the pointed areas of your canines latch onto his underwear. its stretchy. you whine, reaching a hand down to touch yourself but gojo lightly smacks your hand.

“girl, ‘m eating.”

geto giggles, watching the pout on your face only squeeze against your expressions tighter. as you’re peeling his boxers down with your teeth, slowly, his thick cock springs out. it’s so big, and of course—gojo pauses to take a quick look himself. his jaw faintly drops at his best friend’s hefty size, and as he’s staring—geto catches him gawking before he sneers.

“oh, you’re lookin’ like you wanna suck me off too, satoru,” and he hums once he feels your tongue lick against his leaky base. “don’t be ungrateful, popstar. your meal’s right in front of you.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, feeling a sudden wave of heat wash against the entirety of his face. gojo goes back to sliding his tongue against your sensitive nub, listening to your sweet whimpers. you’re barely able to hold still. in the background, all that could be heard was the clamorous sounds of chants and screams—the audience, awaiting for their beloved satoru gojo who was currently occupying his own vocals between your thighs. he was never once to complain, the softly padded cartilage part of his nose swipes against your folds and your tummy zealously caves in. he licks you in all the right spots, licks that gradually turn into deep, sloppy sucks. “m-mhm, so sweet.”

“heyy,” geto whispers, craning your head to stare back up at him. as you’re met with the thickness of his shaft standing tall right in front of your face, you lean in to kiss the very tip of his frenulum. he groans, the outer parts of his abs clenching in pleasure. he couldn’t wait to feel the very inside of your throat, the tightness, the sheer warmth. with your tongue exploring everywhere—every specific spot, tracing the outline of his size, you whine.

with plump, spit-glossed lips—you dangle your jaw down a bit, preparing to take him inside. “good girl. no slobbin’ on it, okay? you don’t wanna be a messy girl this time, do ya? not before a big show, yeah?”

you reply with a subtle head nod, your sweet lips happily opening around his ample fat cockhead.

“yeah? you want me to really throat train you, that bad huh. warm up that pretty diaphragm?” geto sighs, his darkened arch brows lowering once you start to slowly sink your throat down onto his excited length. geto’s barely a few inches in and you feel a sudden pulse race down his dick.

so cute, geto keeps his eyes on you the entire time—occasionally, his eyes detour from you to gojo. he was already lost in your pussy as if it was a maze he’d never escape from. gojo’s all underneath you as you sit over him on all fours. his tongue had already located everywhere—his tongue making its metaphorical mark in every secluded area inside of your wet folds.

you were melting, muffled moans started to spew out of your mouth from gojo’s tongue and the sudden bitter taste of geto’s pre-cum.

sweet, yet bitter..

three perfect words to describe geto’s taste— it lives on your tongue for a long time before you start to lower your mouth down on him. it’s a tight fit at first, you can already feel a few sloppy remnants of your own saliva trickle down the sides of your lips. “ah,” you gasp out, grazing the tip of your tongue over the fat crown of his dick. a taste you wanted to always savor. you moan, feeling geto sneak a hand down to pry a bit more between your already openly exposed legs. he’s almost all the way down your throat before you start to suck him off. he’s so thick that you merely gag from the first few thwacks his tip makes against the roof of your mouth.

“wider for me. lay out that tongue, yeah,” and a thumb of his traces against the curvature of your lips. you can’t help the drool that’s starting to trickle down near the very corners of your mouth. you whine, feeling that pang of a throb welt within your folds from gojo’s slurping. he was in fact, a messy eater. he couldn’t help it, especially with how sugary you taste for him, the more his tongue traverses throughout every part of your walls, the more he craves for more. he yearns for more of your taste. gojo prods two fingers against your slit before running them down, whining himself from his poking boner that’s grinding against the sofa. geto pulls his dick out to smear his dripping tip onto your lips—only to then shove it back in. you breathe through your nose before you start to suck again. timelessly, geto’s hitting against the back of your throat with ease.

gojo’s tongue already has you feeling a sense of numbness in your toes, wiggling it was little to no use. you eagerly wanted to touch yourself but each time you’d even attempt, he grabs your wrist so you won’t distract him from his meal.

gojo was dead set on making you make a mess on his tongue. “m-mph,” you’d gasp out in a muffled manner, geto’s firm grip on your hair makes your eyes merely roll into its backing depths of your cranium.

the bassist gives you a sweet head pat, shoving you all the way in before pulling you out, your nose tickles against the curled black pubic hairs that glue against his skin and he grunts. the perfect throat for a singer. after this, he was sure you’d be hitting high soprano notes like his loser best friend of a popstar in no time.

in which you were though, as you’re still perfectly on all fours with your mouth occupied and gojo directly propped underneath you, eating out your cunt like a starved man. you gasp, a sudden feeling of agitation leaking into your arousal.

it was approaching,

with the abrupt twitch of geto’s brows, he was coming the same time you were. “s-shittt,” he swallows, the ball stuffed in his throat, known as the adam’s apple. it occasionally shifts inside of his neck continues to move as he lets off guttural moans. with the way your tongue teasingly glides across his sensitive slit, he’s steadily preparing to shoot such a whopping load down your throat. “good girl, gonna make me cum, gonna make me c-cum with that pretty tight throat, yeah.”

geto’s low voice judders a bit, he’s that close that he almost starts to spasm.

with a concise bite on his lip, stopping himself from drawing blood—he leers down at you, a thumb of his stroking your lip. you were a mess, amounts of your own drool seeping down the corners of your lips before he wipes it away. “c’monnn, cum with me pretty, make a mess on that loser’s tongue for me.”

“fuck you s-suguru.” gojo grumbles, the rapid tempo of his tongue having you start to feel all kinds of pleasurable feelings. your legs had already gave out. two hands of gojo’s grip against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before you clench against his mouth. whilst gojo’s goading at you with his tongue, again—geto’s cock reaches all the way to the roof of your throat. your tongue dances against the prodding veins that coats his dick once more before within seconds, he shoots out.

he’s still got a hand cupped over your head. the leather of his glove on his right hand tugs against the hairs of your scalp as he’s emptying a gooey volume down your tongue. “ugh, ��s it. so much i’ve been savin’ so much for you,” he pants, lengthy strands of his hair continuing to block his view of vision in his face. as geto’s abs tenses, the minute you taste the viscous spurts of his bitterly sweet cum, it slowly starts to drizzle in your mouth.

it pours down your throat like the niagara— not even seconds later and you finish also, body twitching and overcoming with the hypnotic feelings of ectacsy and fucking salaciously lewd nirvana,

as you rut your hips against gojo’s face a few more times, he grips your hips whilst you come undone. he groans, the tent in his pants practically poking through his designer ‘toru briefs that costs well over four hundred dollars. but leave it to the popstar to spend his money on pretty boxers, blue too, his favorite color.

geto inhales a single breath, nostrils flaring all up before he wraps a hand around his length—finally pulling it out of your mouth.

he had a sheepish grin while he stares at you being laid back against the couch, slouching, and that’s when he huffs, a thumb poking your cheek to open it. “l-let’s see that tongue,” and he rubs his swollen tip against the edges of your tremoring lips. you swallowed, lolling out your pink, needy tongue and gojo sits up to see also. he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealously, he wanted your attention. “mhm, good girl. nice ‘n clean, swallowed it all ‘n didn’t waste a drop,” and his eyes peer towards gojo who had a cute scowl on his lips. ah, he was already starting to feel left out. “satoru, kiss her.”

“uh? don’t tell me what to do, i was gonna do that anyway,” he pouts, his pretty eyes rolling back.

such sass, geto snickers at him before he kneels down to bring you up close to him. gojo cups your face, inching his wet lips toward you before he presses his own against yours. you moan, feeling the popstar’s hands wander through your dazzled blouse. with the taste of yourself still residing on his tongue, you grow addicted immediately.

a hand of his ghosts around the back of your neck, pulling you close and another hand of his ghosts between your spread open thighs. “grind against me, y-yeah, fuck,” he whines, feeling you already rub against his body. gojo’s a sloppy kisser too. the moment his tongue delves into yours, tangling with your own, he starts to feel volumes of his saliva dribble out from his mouth.

messy, a perfect way to describe the popstar. he’s had plenty of action throughout his life— it usually comes with the fame, but he’s never felt like this with someone like you.

sure, this was probably all counts of unprofessionalism but he didn’t care. you didn’t care either. geto, well … he was just geto.

“princess, keep grindin’ against him like that ‘n you’re gonna make him cum through his sweats,” geto chortles, pulling you off of him to press his own lips against you. gojo grumbles, watching his two band mates make out — oh, it was just something about your taste that made them both so drawn to you. they were driven to your lips, to your taste, to you in general. like moths to a flame. geto’s kisses were more passionate and sincere, he wraps a hand around your neck gently, a thumb caressing the passageway of your throat whilst he starts to suck against your tongue. with lips crashing amongst each other, he parts your legs open just a bit more before he departs away. “can never get enough,” and he hums to his best friend with a wry grin. “satoru, aw. what? are ya mad at me?”

“i was kissing her, man.”

“more like swallowing her face whole, come on baby-”

as they continue to bicker right in front of you, gojo leans back against the couch and geto props up directly behind you. he yanks down his sweats from last minute rehearsal and you hover over him in preparation to straddle him.

“satoru, you’re pouting.” you point out, cupping his face. indeed he was, cute pink bottom lip sticking out and he’s about to melt at how hot you look on top of him.

“it’s because he’s gonna live up to his other stage name as a two pump champ.” geto yawns,

gojo glares, desperately wishing to wipe that sly smirk off of geto’s face. then again he wasn’t exactly lying. the popstar’s known for a lot of things but most importantly—he was known for being the two pump champ, how he could barely last a few solid minutes inside of a girl before he completely spazzes out, finishing prematurely.

that only happened sometimes,

according to gojo.

“i’ll fuck you,” gojo bleats.

“what?” geto smirks.

“i said fuck you.” gojo corrects himself, barely even comprehended what he said the first time.

“yeah? maybe later.”

“stop flirting,” you roll your eyes, lifting yourself a bit on top of gojo. feeling geto’s hands suddenly cling onto your waist, you let out a soft murmur. “can i take you both?”

in a hoarse whisper, geto sneaks a few kisses against your collarbone. “are you asking, princess?” and his touch alone sends you a plethora of shivers everywhere. you lean back against his chest, still straddling gojo before biting your lip—replying with a subtle nod. “ah, ‘toru she wants to take us both. got enough energy for that?”

he shoots him daggers and the bassist only grins.

“f-fuck, jus’ . . hurry up. ‘m fuckin’ hard,” he swallows, his own fingertips brushing against the very curvature of your rocking hips.

white strands of his hair practically binding against his forehead. he’s undoubtedly hard, feeling his breathing slow down a bit as he looks down. your wet cunt was all swollen and preparing to be destroyed by them both. you weren’t even sure if you could take them both at the same time time—but where there’s a will, there’s a way,

you were far too pent up to even think about tonight’s show. your throbbing only increases before you get a hold of gojo’s length. he’s more thin with a lot of inches while geto’s more thick and bulky. just picturing the mere image of them both stuffing you full has your panties in a twist. speaking of panties— they were still leisurely pulled to the side of you, not bothering to take them off fully.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” gojo mewls out, his voice sounds more like a whine than anything. it was a contest between the both of you though — who was the most louder. gojo satoru or your pussy, he couldn’t help it. his whines only continue to ring across the small, claustrophobic room the further you take them both. “that’s it, yeah. jus’ keep those pretty eyes down h-here.”

a shaky breath cuts out from gojo’s lips as you feel him start to gradually sink inside of your cunt.

you moan almost immediately, holding onto his thighs whilst geto’s right behind you, following the same. you’re straddling gojo and taking him from the front and also taking geto from behind. the entirety of your pussy was lukewarm, it makes gojo already start to spasm—a familiar candied texture lingers in his mouth, his saliva that trickles inside before he can eventually swallows. you’re so tight at first, the grip you have against them both does wonders..

if it was anything though, gojo would take pussy over publicity any day.

you felt way too good. it doesn’t take them long before they both start to bottom out inside of you. geto nips a few kisses near the outer areas of your collarbone—he could never get enough of your taste, both of them couldn’t.

you were sweet like candy, gojo always did have a sweet tooth after all. as they’re both easing their ways inside of your slick entrances, you slump back against geto’s chest. “fuck, ‘s right. nice ‘n slow baby. takin’ us both so well.”

the stretch was purely appetizing—your cunt instinctively squeezes down against them, clamping.

as you start to jerk your hips forward with them being all the way in, you feel geto’s hands slither its way inside of your dazzled blouse. near the very skirts of the fabric, he fondles against your neglected breasts, giving them a nice firm grab. the tips of his soft padded thumbs strum against your nipples and you whine. “f-fuck,” you moan out, your hips rutting against them both in harmony—in perfect sync. even the sofa’s producing a tune of its own with the constant repetitive creaking. with geto’s hands still roaming against your body, it trails down to your chest and near your tummy. he cunningly grins once he feels the written lines of his signature displayed on your body. his signature—earlier, you’d ask him to write his name on you and he was more than happy to oblige. the musk of the strong scented sharpie wafts through the air, his fingers slew against the neatly written words that spelled out ‘suguru’s favorite’ in bold.

as you’re riding gojo, he takes a peek himself at your exposed abdomen and he grunts under his breath. “fucker.”

“someone mad?” geto fake pouts, poking fun at his best friend and that only gifts him a glare.

you continue to grind your hips against them, feeling gojo’s touch gently caress the lower parts of your body. the blaring roaring chants outside of the room near the arena only gets louder. like most of his shows, it was pretty packed. gojo’s always getting sold out shows of around thousands of people just to see him perform live.

but oh, did his precious little fangirls hate your guts.

they didn’t just hate you, they loathed you.

they loathed how you just randomly came into the picture, how you came out of nowhere and started opening up shows for him. everyone always wanted in on the scoop though. who were you and just why was gojo so obsessed?

where there’s gojo’s intimidating length—there’s geto’s deliciously fat girth. you couldn’t pick out just who was stuffing you deeper, you felt everything all at once. you’re unwaveringly moving your hips against them both and your cunt’s squelching out such pleasurable symphonies. “ugh,” gojo groans, dragging your hips back and forth against him with his hands. you’re so pretty like this, the view he’s got of you just riding him makes his dick twitch inside of you. you’ve never felt so full, with both guys already bottomed out—you almost struggle to barrel in both lengths at first. “k-keep ridin’ me like this ‘n i’m gonna cummm.”

you’re working your hips against them both—geto still has his hands attached to your chest, gently seeping his teeth into the juncture of your neck. his tongue was so warm, he flicks his moving muscle against the piercing marks he’s left you on your collarbone.

so sweet..

with each hole, it’s both getting its fair share of fullness and every flavorsome inch you’re taking your mouth watering. it salivates quickly and not before long—you feel yourself convulsing from each of them. you feel a palpitating pang surge underneath your thighs as you bounce against them both. the couch suddenly shrieks in unexpected dismay at the piles of weight slamming against the furniture each second.

“relax, easy easy,” geto purrs against you, licking near the outer shell of your ear. you moan, his hands starting to feel elsewhere before he rubs a few circles against your folds. you gasp, your body jolting in response. the stimulation was almost too much to bare—too good, combining both shafts, you felt the fullest one could ever be.

within seconds, they’re both buried to the hilt.

you pierce your teeth into your bottom lip before you start to rock. gojo stares at your body—the cute halfway pulled up blouse that was shimmering in the light. once all pretty and neat, now wrinkled and practically ripped to shreds all thanks to the tight grips of the two stars. gojo loudly whines, a hand of his sticking to your hips like velcro before he starts to yoke your hips further into him. “goddamn, s-so warm, jus’ askin’ to be stretched by us both, fuck ‘m not gonna last.”

“like i said, two pump champ.” geto whispers, broad hands of his own clinging to your backside.

his best friend gives him nothing more but a glower again as you’re taking both of them from each hole. the stretch lasts for a good while, your gummy textured walls squeezes against them before you feel a sudden coil burst. so good, the way your hips roll and throw back against them was so hot. the recoil—geto’s personal favorite part. he loves to give your ass spanks as you continue to jerk and jostle against them both. bodies on bodies on bodies—gojo grunts lowly as he brings a hand to play with your ignored tits. a thumb of his grazes against your unclamped bra that was just barely shielding your soft plump mounds.

“f-fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips repeatedly, the chants from the area only grows louder until it’s a deafening roar. time was merely up but you could care less. the hot warmth of geto’s breath brushes against your skin as he slides his tongue against your neck. he loved to dig his pearly whites into the depths of your skin, giving you a playful nibble. he does all that only to kiss against the new marks that print into your skin. he wants more of you. “s-stretchin’ me out s’good.”

as you’re being mushed with them both — your breaths start to become more heavy and irregular.

wet, your cunt sloshes and sloshes from each movement and it’s so lewd. you’re jerking back and forth until the sofa’s squeaking out pretty melodic moans of itself. you’re sopping wet, you reach down to touch yourself and geto grabs your wrist. “nuh uh,” he coos against your ear. “this pussy’s for my hands only, baby.”

“and mine..” gojo pouts.

“yeah, no,” geto chimes, hearing your cute grumble before he touches your swollen cunt for you. “mmm, such a wet girl. can’t believe you were really gonna perform with a pussy this soaked. my my.”

gojo’s losing it underneath you—his face flushes before he’s dragging you quicker and quicker against him. sharp exhales leave from his lips and it’s not before long that you and him were both getting close—geto shortly following too. it only takes about a good few minutes before that familiar pool stirs into the deep abyss of your obscene heat. you felt a good parcel of nerves trigger all over you’re body and you can’t stay still. with your mouth hanging open, geto’s continuing to rub circles against your throbbing clit.

“c-cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper pathetically, feeling the honed edge of his hips strike into you at a more hasty tempo. geto can’t keep his hands off you, they both can’t keep their hands off of you.

the minute you feel the fat head of gojo’s dick broach against that particular spot. you’re seeing all types of unnamed stars in your blurred vision.

it’s here, you’re long awaited orgasm—almost, it’s at the very tip of your tongue again, the very edge.

with the way your pussy’s responding to them both, you’re dripping like a spigot — not even caring that you’re coating each of their dicks with your saturated juices. “make a mess baby,” geto whispers, a hand wrapping around your throat as your ass pressed up against him. “cum on our dicks, yeah. ride satoru ‘till he fuckin’ whines.”

the pace only quickens—gojo lies back with his head already thrown back in defeat. “i’m gonna fuckin’ die,” he whimpers, his pulsing dick at its very peak. it feels so good for him that it almost hurts. gojo spanks your ass a few times for encouragement, feeling the tightness of his jaw clench down before he feels you wring around his crazed shaft. “h-hah, that would make a good track title. ‘m gonna fuckin’ dieeee.”

“s-shut up.” you moan, slinging your arms around the popstar. one glance at him and he’s already pussy drunk.

rightfully, you lean in to kiss him as you finally cum. as expected his tongue parts inside of you sloppily, masses of his famous saliva cascades down the sides. he was nothing but a mess for you. as you’re slowing your hips down, both of them approach their own individual releases. gojo’s hands run everywhere on your body, you shudder from his touch whilst you feel geto’s hips piston itself forward. your toes grow limp as you’re finally becoming undone—gojo follows as they’re both driving the thickness of their cocks into your slick, needy entrances.

as your legs lie flat, the both of them end up finishing at the same time. it’s so much, you’re feeling yourself get dumped and it’s already starting to overflow. gojo’s filling you from the front and geto’s taking care of you from behind. “easy, rock against him like that, yeah,” he hushes you, easing his thumbs against your hips in tiny little circles to calm you down. it’s trickling into you in such a slow way, gooey velvety portions of cum oozing its way into your pussy. it’s loud too, squelch after squelch reverberating throughout the entire room that it develops its own vibrato..

“touch her, ‘toru,” geto continues, latching his tongue against the miniature bite marks that press near your neck. the popstar was worn out despite it being just a few minutes. with heaving pants departing from his lips, he brings his hands to feel against your waist, your breasts, and back down between your legs. “she did so good for us,” and he kissed the top of your head, speaking in a rasp. “gonna perform with all this this cum stuffed inside, baby?”

“y- yeah,” you whine, feeling geto abruptly pull out to where you’re just bestriding gojo now. you take a quick glance down and your panties weren’t there anymore. you sigh, you really liked those. back to gojo—his dick that was still twitching inside of you grows flaccid and he whimpers at the faint jittery motion of your hips. “fuck, we don’t have to perform. can’t satoru just cancel the show?”

“and get dragged on twitter? heh, girl no..” gojo swipes a hand across his forehead as he’s still spilling such amounts inside of you. it’s a mess, the once flashy white sofa was all ruined with nothing but a salacious mixture of soaked liquids.

speaking of though,

as gojo’s catching his final breaths with you still hovering over him, he pulls out his phone. his sheepish smile turns into a look of horror once he opens tmz. skimming his eyes against the blue-lit screen, his lip tremors as he reads the bold red and black text. “famous popstar satoru gojo, bassist suguru geto and new opening singer heard screwing … backstage?”

geto deadpans and you furrow your eyebrows, getting off of him. “how?”

“idiot still has his fuckin’ mic on.”

gojo’s eyes widen as he stares in his peripherals at his mic. not again, and indeed it was very much on and operated. you could hear the echo grow louder from the arena just a few feet down now that it was against his lips. then it hits you, the ongoing chants from outside weren’t happening anymore. now, it was just pure booing. he uses two fingers to bring his mic up to the side of his mouth before switching it to autotune. “oops. no refunds….?”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

[pitch-and-moan]

Corned Beef Hash: The Movie

Someone accidentally greenlit a series of AI-written films based on a diner menu.

[stardust-swan]

Everyday Ways I Honour Aphrodite

(NSFW warning)

🌹Roses, roses, roses. Rose soap, rose lip balm, rose hand cream, rose lotion, rose perfume, rose oil on my pillow before falling asleep, rose candles, rose incense, roses in my garden, rosewater toner, rose face mist, rose shower gel, dried roses in the bath... Just roses everywhere you can fit them.

🌹Reading romantic books and poetry, watching romance films

🌹 Reading books and poetry about Aphrodite

🌹Making myself feel beautiful with pretty jewellery and makeup. Even just a swipe of tinted lip balm boosts my confidence (I use French Girl Rose Noir). I try to wear at least a little bit of makeup or jewellery daily, even if it's just a pair of studs or a subtle lipstick

🌹 Even if I'm just staying at home all day I'll spray perfume and put on jewellery and do lipstick just to feel sensual while I'm lounging around playing Animal Crossing (currently wearing a comfy embroidered nightie, small gold hoops, a pretty bracelet and a little bit of YSL Orange Perfecto lipstick as I write this)

🌹 Embracing my sensuality. Swaying my hips, feeling the softness of my body, dancing freely, engaging in self-pleasure, taking nudes, trying to unlearn the shame associated with sexuality from my upbringing. I don't watch porn often as I find most of it unhealthy and misogynistic (I only like this one random Japanese couple's channel and some vintage and Korean softcore), but I enjoy toys (my favourite is the rose), erotic literature, erotic film, audio porn (usually in other languages because I find a lot of dirty talk just makes me cringe but I still get enjoyment out of hearing little moans and silky low voices so I get that and avoid secondhand embarrassment from bad dirty talk by listening to it in languages I don't understand), and erotic fine art.

🌹 I try to get really comfortable when I'm engaged in self love. Lipstick and perfume on, hair styled, lingerie or nightie that makes me feel sexy, a candle lit or rose, ylang ylang and jasmine oil in my diffuser, soft music playing. Then I'll position myself comfortably, and stroke my thighs, tease my nipples, squeeze my breasts, lick my juices off my fingers and use it like a lipstick, painting my lips and nipples or using it to lightly lubricate my clitoris. Running my hands all over my belly, thighs and breasts, experimenting with different types of pressure and stimulation. Just luxuriating in the sensual feelings I can bring to my beautiful female body.

🌹 Wearing jewellery with seashells, pearls, emerald, ruby, bronze, copper, gold, jade, garnet and iridescent beads

🌹 Enjoying apples, honey, figs, pomegranates, strawberries, raspberries, olives, lettuce, rosewater and chocolate. I like buying Guylian chocolates as they're seashell shaped, but any chocolate will do (my favourite chocolate bar to buy is white chocolate with strawberries). I also like foods that you can taste the rosewater in like rose macarons and Turkish delight.

🌹 Making foods with ingredients she likes, like honey cakes, Persian rose love spell cookies, rosewater nougat, Persian love cake, baklava, cornes de gazelle, mhencha, etc... I mostly stick to Mediterranean, North African, Arab and Persian recipes, as they commonly use ingredients like rosewater, honey, pomegranates, and figs.

🌹 Carrying rose quartz in my pocket and keeping rose quartz under my pillow

🌹 I use a rose quartz roller to massage oil into my face

🌹 I keep a mini Venus de Milo statue and a swan trinket box on my bedside table

🌹 Drinking a drink made up of honey, cinnamon, milk and hot water at night to relax

🌹 Wearing pretty lingerie under my clothes, even if it's a basic outfit

🌹 I often fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves

🌹 Gold highlighter swept on my cheeks and body shimmer on my collarbones, reflecting light like sun rays on the ocean

🌹 Doing little offerings, like spritzing her statue with perfume, or offering up a portion of food I'm eating that I think she'd like

🌹 Lighting incense in scents like myrrh, frankincense, rose, vanilla, cinnamon, ginger and jasmine

🌹 Drawing myself relaxing baths with fragrant oils and salts

🌹 Reading hymns, Sappho's poetry, and listening to Athanati Afroditi

🌹 Listening to music that's romantic or sensual (this is my playlist)

🌹 Carrying a hand mirror and admiring myself as I check my makeup

🌹 Adding honey to tea

🌹 Writing letters and poetry about love and beauty

🌹Admiring women I find beautiful without jealousy or resentment, just appreciation

🌹Using these emojis: 🌹🦢🌊🪞🍎❤️💘💗💕💋🕊️🫒💄

🌹 Wearing pink, red, aqua, and seafoam green

🌹 Being consistent in self care. No matter how low my spoons are, unless I'm so dog-tired I end up falling asleep on the couch at 8pm, I force myself to do my evening skincare routine - cleansing, toning, eye cream, moisturiser, oil. And I always feel better for it even if I was exhausted before. Much smaller but I'm also consistent in oiling the ends of my hair daily and spraying perfume before bed. And I keep up with getting my hair done and brows waxed every three months without fail.

🌹 Doing exercises that make me feel sensual. I'm really lazy tbh but I push myself because I know Aphrodite would want me to take care of my body. I pick exercises that make me feel good and desirable, like yoga flow, belly dance, and exercises that target my womanly attributes.

🌹 Giving compliments!

🌹 Doing a big self care day every Friday (the day associated with her). Hot oil hair treatment, foot soak and exfoliation, removing old nail polish and buffing and filing nails, face mask, teeth whitening....

🌹 Going to the pond in winter and admiring the swans

🌹 Going to an art gallery in my city just to look at the painting Venus and Cupid (Day) by Fragonard

🌹 Sleeping on silk sheets as they feel sensual (they're also good for your hair and skin)

🌹 Making my own diffusers and cosmetics from natural, aphrodisiac products. Homemade bath salt with rose petals and pink salt, homemade lip mask with olive oil and rose oil, and adding oil of rose, jasmine, sandalwood, and cinnamon to a diffuser as I find these scents stimulating and sensual.

🌹 And of course, thanking Lady Aphrodite every day.

[cherryc1nnam0n]

You entered the wrong house, pretty boy! | Ghostface!Ethan Landry x FEM!Reader

Based on this poll I did, we have this masterpiece

Summary: Ethan made a big mistake by entering your house, a Ghostface fan

Cw: Dub con, P in V sex, unprotected, creampie, he resists at first but then gives in, virgin!Ethan, Ghostface!Ethan, mask kink, riding, mirror sex, recording while having sex, multiple orgasms, excessive cum, overstimulation, spit, knife mentions, rough sex, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), ball play

It was late at night, almost 1 am and you were still awake, sitting on your bed reading a book, when something coming from your living room startled you

"What the?" You said getting up to go investigate, a sandal on your hand, pure instinct

When you reached the place where the noise had come from you saw nothing, just your cat licking her paw

"Callie, you scared me" you whisper yelled at her and she blinked slowly at you "Awe"

You turned around and where met with a masked figure, he tilted his head and pulled out his knife

"Why you up so late?" He asked in a weird voice

"I-I" he started to walk and corned you against a wall, placing the knife against your throat, which made you moan

"What?" He asked genuinely concerned

"Oh what you thought I would be scared?" You said defiantly and he just stood there "Baby, this is having the reaction you least expect" you said squeezing your thighs

He looked down and breathed heavily, where you aroused by this? Where the hell is he?

"Wait, aren't you Britney?" You shook your head "Oh shit, my bad I-"

"What? You were supposed to be in someone else's house?" He nodded, feeling like an idiot "Awwwe, it's okay baby, I'll take good care of you" you said begining to walk into him

"W-wait, hold on, lemme just-" he tripped against your coffee table falling backwards, he tried crawling to the door but you grabbed his foot and began dragging him to your room "Hold on wait! No!"

"Oh you're not going anywhere baby, you entered the wrong house, pretty boy!"

He screamed while you dragged him away into your room, finally inside you ran to close the door and lock it, he backed away from you and you looked at him with hungry eyes

"This has been my fantasy for so long" you licked your lips, scanning him

He was tall, broad even, but you didn't really care about who he was, you just wanted him to fuck you, or you to fuck him

"What is wrong with you?" He asked concerned

"Many things" you said taking your shirt off, boobs falling off freely "Now give me your cock"

He screamed again and you tackled him into the bed, hurrying to lift off his robe so you could free his cock, under it there were pajama pants, so cute, you easily found his mid hard cock, maybe from when he saw your tits

"It's big, I'm gonna have fun with it" you said smacking his dick against your face, he breathed heavily as he saw you play with his cock

You started to suck his dick, it was uncut so you pulled the skin back to suckled his head, he began to moan and grabbed the sheets, bucking his hips up into your mouth, your other hand freed his balls so you could play with them, his breath hitched and he started whining

"Please, please" he said under the mask, you could hear his breath heavy

Your mouth went down to suck his right ball into your mouth, looking up at him while you did so, his head fell back as he finally came all over himself and your face, he came a lot so you just kept pumping him dry for it

"Fuck, stop stop too much, ahh"

You finally released his cock with a pop, licking your lips clean from his cum

"You taste good baby"

You climbed on top of him, removing your pajama shorts and sitting completely naked on top of him, you grinded onto his dick making him whine again, he really liked to do that huh?

"You're a whiney man, you really that desperate?" He nodded

"I'm a virgin" he said lowly and you chuckled

"I can tell" you said to his ear

You grabbed his cock and guided it onto your entrance, sinking down making him hiss and whine, cursing under his breath

"Feels good right?"

He nodded desperately, his hands finding your hips, squeezing so hard he would leave marks

You started bouncing on him, his eyes rolling back behind his head, you bit your lip throwing your head back, your hips moving sexily on top of him, his masked figure was turning you on so much but you were curious of who he was, so taking advantage of him being in pure bliss, you lifted his mask until you took it off entirely, revealing none other than your crush Ethan Landry

"Ethan? I knew you were weird but a killer? And Ghostface? Wow"

"Fuck, don't tell anybody"

"Or what? You gonna kill me? Don't think so" you clenched around him purposely "If you don't kill me, you can fuck me whenever you want"

"I-I, fuck, you feel so good" his eyes rolled back

You kept going faster on him until you felt the familiar tingling of an orgasm, his hand was rubbing your clit while you held onto his thighs so you could roll your hips against him, the tatch of hair at his base rubbing against your clit deliciously

"I'm cumming, gonna cum fuck!" You said orgasming on top of him

He held your hips and thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing as he did so, finally releasing inside you with a loud whine

He fell limp on your bed, his breath erratic as he kept jerking from cumming, he took like 2 minutes to finish cumming

"Wow..." Was all you could say after that

His dick fell off your pussy when he grew soft again, his cum flooding out of you, coating his base and his thighs, running down his ass, his breath hitched when he felt that

"What? You done pretty boy? I thought you could take more than that"

He looked at you, then took a deep breath and sat up, kissing you deeply, his tongue shoving into your mouth, his hand held the back of your neck and while his other grabbed your ass cheek

"I have an idea"

Now in front of your mirror you held your phone up while your chest was against your carpet, your ass jiggling with every thrust Ethan gave you, his hands holding onto your hips, you were recording the whole thing from a beautiful angle that showed hos good he was fucking you, his mask was back on his face, he tilted it as he looked into the mirror, enjoying the view

"Fuck, you like that pretty girl? Like being fucked by a murderer?" You moaned at him "Answer me, bitch!" His voice changer was on as he said that

His left hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back, you moaned from it, eyes rolling back

"Yes I fucking love it, don't stop"

"Good girl"

The skin slapping noises were so loud you thought you would wake up your neighbors, but you couldn't care much because of how good Ethan was making you feel

He reached for his mask and pulled it up until only his mouth was visible, spitting a fat glob onto your ass letting it drip to your pussy, adding extra wetness into his fucking

His cock was hitting your g spot on every move, he was big, uncut and fat, just perfect, and he knew how to use it

"Fuck I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming!" You said drooling at the mouth as your second orgasm barreled in

"Good girl baby, fucking cum all over my cock"

With a few sloppy thrusts he finally came again, coating your insides with his warm cum for a second time that night, he massaged your ass as he kept rutting softly into you to keep cumming

"All nice and stuffed baby, so good" he said smacking your ass

Turns out it wasn't that big of a mistake to break into your house...

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Video

“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”

My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”

“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”

“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”

“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”

“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”

“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”

“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”

“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”

Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.

Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:

Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.

I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.

“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”

Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”

“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.

It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”

His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”

“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”

“To serve my bros,” he replied.

“Will you do anything for them?”

His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“

I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”

He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”

“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”

His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”

“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”

He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.

[skzthelomlhehe]

Part two is heeerrrreeee~~~ hope y'all enjoy all this brainrot I'm having hahahahaha I lost my mind midway through writing this so idek what I wrote lololol hope it feeds y'alls delulu minds thooo~ Total Masterlist

MDNI // smutty. Very smutty. // Established relationships // x F!reader

Tag Reqs:@arestoucries

How your boyfriend!skz will react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie when they come home after a long day at work. [Ot8] {Pt. 2: maknae line}

Han Jisung

When i tell you he'll MELT. Like I'm saying FOLDED, WHIMPERING, FUCKING TREMBLING like- believe me or not- THE MAN IS GONNA LOSE HIS MIND. Like just imagine. He had a tough day at work, comes home expecting to like cuddle and whine in your arms and he just walks in on you wearing a lingerie makes you look so so so fucking pretty. He'll stand there on the door way, jaw dropped, whimpering squealing whatever. He's gonna walk up to you and embrace you in the warmest fucking hug, nuzzle into your neck and let you rub his painful bulge over his clothes before letting all that scrumptious milk out along with all his worries after. When you both are done he'd just lay there cuddling you going "oh baby... I love you so much... Fuck why are you so damn beautiful?? You're making me lose my fucking mind here..." And just whine cuz he just can't resist you.

Felix

Ok so hear me out. When people look at Felix they're usually like 'oh he's just a submissive ball of sunshine' BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HOW MISCHIEVOUS THE MAN IS??? Don't let his cute and innocent, pretty little face fool you, chat. Cuz he's a very sly little kitten and he KNOWS it. I said what I said and I rest my case. When he sees you in that lingerie he's gonna walk up to you without a word, hold your face gently with those little hands, kiss you deeply and go "oh darling... You always know how to get my mind off of things... Didn't know you'd have this under your sleeve too~" in the deepest motherfckn voice ever. {I shit you not- while I was writing this I suddenly started hearing moans from the other room and realised my uncle was watching corn 💀 anyways back to Felix} like- the man is gonna RAVAGE you. He's gonna eat you out like you're the last meal he'll have. He'll let you know how stupidly attractive you looked in those garments with the minimum fabric. He's gonna let you know how fucking scrumptious you are and how much he loves the way you are.

Seungmin

For seungmin, you'd think he had no feelings or thoughts. He'd walk in, not even surprised by your antiques. He'd probably just walk over to you slowly and then grab you by the waist and whisper into your ear like, "you know I had a bad today... And the things you're doing right now is very very dangerous..." He's the typa guy who would quiet down COMPLETELY when he's upset so when he gets your permission he'd just pick you up, throw you on the bed and feel you like a puppy he is all night long. I feel like he's the type who would whimper and groan in your arms and make the bed CREAKIN iykwim 😉 and instead of doing the work, he would just lay there while you ride him cuz he loves it when you're taking the lead, caressing him, loving him and just... Making him feel like the most loved man ever.

Jeongin

Ok so- hear me out- let's put aside the 'saving myself for after marriage' thing for a second (while I do respect it, let's just put it aside for a tiny bit) I feel like when he gets home and the first thing he sees is you like that, on their bed, laying there welcoming him, he'd look at you with those foxy slender eyes of his with this sly smirk (if you know what I mean, you know. If you don't, that's sad and I'm so sorry you don't cuz HONEY you're missing out.) once he's done eye fucking you from the door frame he'd just walk up to you like the fox he is (ok but why do I like- imagine him making some tiny fox squeals too???) he'd just go over to you, get on top of you while placing soft wet kisses then whisper in your ear like "is this the surprise you were talking about when I said I was having a bad day earlier, hm? You're such a cutie, yknow that?" And then nibble at the lobe of your ear. People think that he doesn't enjoy physical contact given the way he is (which might be true lol) but I feel like with his lover he'd be just a snuggly fox and a very soft loaf of bread. (And then daddy toastie comes out Lolol)

Once again, these are all my assumptions so please don't take anything seriously it's all just brainrot I've been having. They're their own individuals and I completely respect them and dearly love and cherish them.

That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed!

[lunamochii]

rafayel's version, xavier's version

Zayne barely shows emotions infront of you but when he does, it's like getting the front row seat on a concert of your favorite band. A very memorable and enjoyable moment.

Huff and groans fills the cornes of his gym room, his veiny hands grabbing a handful of your hair as he tries to control himself on not to fuck your mouth

"Y-You're going to make me cum.."

"And that's what I intend to do."

You grin at him and grab on his thighs as you start to suck his cock more deeper, Zayne swore he could just grab on your head and buck his hips. He could fuck your mouth mercilessly but he chose not to, although he doesn't show it, he likes being at your mercy

He could feel your tongue wrap around his cock, the way you trace with the tip of your tongue the vein on his cock, the way your hands grip his cock tighter, his tip hitting the back of your throat, he couldn't take it anymore

"Cumming!"

He push your head down to his cock and let all his warm cum fill your mouth, you help him ride down his high by sucking him clean. Once you're done, you stood up and kiss him on the lips in which he reciprocated. His hands on your waist as he press you against the wall, your hands wandering against his upper body. Soon, you reach for his nipple that is poking on his tight top.

You started to play with it, leaning down your face so you could suck on it. Using your free hand to slowly rub his cock, he winces at the feeling of your touch

Zayne barely shows emotions and when he does, you must do everything to bring out more of it.

"You're quite a daring one today..."

"Just trying to see how long can you endure my teasing~"

He huffs and tried to close his lips, trying not to let you have the satisfaction of hearing his voice. But damn, the way you rolled your tongue off from your lips and licks his already hardened nipple, he almost came in your hand that hasn't stop on rubbing him

"Don't hold it, Zayne."

"Shut up.."

You giggle and began sucking hard on his nipple and you notice how his one hand is gripping your side and one hand is place against the wall. You also felt on how he starts to buck his hips, trying to get more friction on your hands

"M'making a mess on your top.."

He groans and you took that as a chance to pinch his nipple and best believe, he let out the sluttiest moan of your name. You are now grinning from ear to ear as you began to suck on his nipples

"That's it, Zayne baby~ moan for me~"

You let one of your finger poke his tip before gripping tightly on his cock and rubbing it fast and hard. Zayne is now looking down at you, mouth agape as he continue on moaning your name

"You'll pay for this, dear."

"Scary~"

"Naughty brat."

You smile sheepishly on what he just called you, maybe he will fuck you hard after this much teasing. Oh, you can't wait.

You move away but before he could ask, you tug his shirt upward and expose his bare nipples that you've been teasing. You latch your lips on it and Zayne moan out. His hand went to your hand that is rubbing his cock and you two ended up rubbing his cock together

"More- lick it more, baby."

You hum in response as you abuse both of his nipples. You felt his cock twitch as he removes his own hand, he place both of his hands on your ass and began caressing it.

One last moan of your name before he came undone on your hands, white sticky hot cum covered your hand. You brought it up to your lips and lick it clean.

Zayne huffs and turn you to face the wall as he harshly pulled your leggings down and line his cock at your aching, needy cunt. He also yank your top and his big calloused hands began to rub your nipple as he lick your neck.

You felt a shiver ran down your spine, feeling his hot breath against your neck.

"You think I will let you get away with it? Buckle up, princess."

Oh, you're fuck.

[surielstea]

Trick or Treat

Selected: Trick

Pairings: Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, Eris, and Lucien x Fem!Reader (Separately)

Summary: A series of one NSFW one shots all pertaining to a very slutty Halloween.

Warnings: Minors dni | Dom/Sub dynamics | Cockwarming (Rhys) | Mask kink (Az) | Breath play (Az) | Objectification (Cass) | Semi-public—in a corn maze (Eris) | Praise/Degradtion | a lot of other freaky stuff probably

Smut under the cut.

Rhysand

"Rhys," I let out in an eager moan, my body aching for more, needing him to move, to do anything but this sweet torture.

"Watch the movie, darling," The male purrs from behind me, his chest against my back, his lips brushing my ear.

"Can't," I breathe, grasping at his thigh, needing relief. "Please."

"Please what?" He taunted, dipping his face into the crook of my neck, beginning to trail kisses up the side of it.

"Move," I whimper. "Please Rhys, want you to fuck me," I beg, eyes glued to the television as the horror movie’s plot quickens, the eerie music building.

"I will baby, I will," He hushed in a reassuring tone. "Just stay still and watch the movie for me, yeah?"

I nodded, slowly, but as the movie went on the pressure in my core built, in desperate need of friction, of any form of attention.

I willed myself to stay still, to watch the movie, even though all I could feel and retain was the sensation of Rhysand buried inside of me.

"You've been good," He praised, nipping slightly at the mark he left on my neck. "So good," He whispered into my flushed skin and a shiver crawled down my spine. As a reward for my good behavior one of his hands, settled on my thigh, began its course upward, slipping beneath my flimsy skirt to the apex of my legs where we connected. He gave no warning before he began rubbing my clit with his thumb, teasing me with circles with not nearly enough pressure.

"Rhys," I whimpered, my voice a wobbling plead.

"Shh, this is the best part," He hummed, ignoring the way I was arching into him. He grunted softly as I shifted, my sore legs screaming at me for being in the same position for so long. I let out a broken moan as I adjusted to the new angle, so deep, he was so deep inside of me, and all the emotion he had to show for it was a few strained grunts.

A whimper escaped me, my grip on his thigh tightening as he applied more pressure to my sensitive clit, his touch still maddeningly light, just enough to make my breath hitch but not enough to satisfy the need thrumming through my veins. "Rhys," I breathed, voice trembling as I fought to stay still, to hold out as he wanted.

He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with the way I was unraveling in his arms. His fingers moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, building the tension higher, pushing me closer and closer to that edge. "You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. I nodded eagerly. "Yeah? I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

I let out a needy moan, my body arching against him, the ache consuming every thought, every feeling, except for him. "Please," I gasped, no longer caring about anything but the desperate need to reach that high, to feel him fully, completely.

Rhys let out a satisfied hum, grabbing me by the hips and beginning to lift me up and down his length, his touch just rough enough to make me gasp as the pleasure crashed over me. His hands tightened, holding me steady as my body trembled in his grasp, his lips tracing soothing kisses along my neck, grounding me through every wave of bliss.

"That's it, darling," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction as he continued his slow, lazy strokes, coaxing every last spark of pleasure from me. "You did so well for me."

As I caught my breath, my head lolled back against his shoulder, a sleepy, satisfied smile on my lips. "Guess I'll need a replay of the movie," I murmured, feeling the warmth of his laughter against my skin.

Rhys pressed a kiss to my temple, wrapping me closer to him, his voice soft and full of promise. "Only if you're good enough to last through the whole thing next time."

Azriel

"Leave it on," I pant as Azriel reaches for his mask, grabbing his wrists. "Fuck me with it on." I plead, the rest of our clothes a pile at our feet. His eyes—the only thing I could see—crinkled in a smirk, drawing me forward and laying me out beneath him. He remained silent, not wanting to break my illusion, keeping the mask from his costume on, and spreading my legs.

I can only see his eyes, but they're smoldering, dark with intensity, and I can feel the heat of his gaze raking over my exposed skin.

"Please," I breathe out, arching into his touch, craving more of him. I can feel him everywhere and nowhere at once, his hands firm on my thighs, holding me open as if he's afraid I might slip away. But I don't want to. I'm here for him, only him, and I'm aching, wanting him to end this teasing game he's started.

Azriel's fingers press into my thighs, his touch reverent yet possessive. He shifts, aligning himself, his scarred hands sliding up, tracing a shiver-inducing path over my hips, my waist, up to my wrists. He captures them, pinning them above my head, his strength inescapable yet never brutal. I'm at his mercy, and I feel his power like a tangible weight, the thrill of surrender so sweet I can barely stand it.

"Keep your eyes on me," he murmurs, the first words he's spoken, a whisper like silk against my skin. His voice is rough, a hint of the raw edge that tells me he's holding back, barely. His grip tightens just slightly, a warning, and I nod, my breaths coming faster, harder.

And then he finally presses into me, slow and deliberate, every inch stretching, filling, consuming. A gasp escapes me as my body molds to his, and he pauses, his eyes boring into mine through the mask, watching, memorizing every reaction, every shudder. I'm laid bare, vulnerable, yet somehow invincible under that stare. It's as if he's reading everything I'm feeling, every thought, every desire.

"Good girl," he whispers. His words send a shiver racing down my spine, pooling warmth low in my belly. He pulls back achingly slow, then thrusts forward, the movement making me arch beneath him, a moan slipping past my lips as he sets a pace that's maddeningly restrained. Every roll of his hips, every press of his body against mine, feels like he's claiming me, branding me.

My wrists twist in his grasp, desperate to touch him, to feel his skin against mine, but he holds them firm, smirking down at me through that mask, an air of dominance that has me melting beneath him.

"Azriel, please," I beg, the words spilling from me unbidden, needy. I don't even know what I'm asking for. Just more. More of him, more of this.

But he only chuckles, a low sound that vibrates through me, his hand shifting to wrap around my throat, his grip pressing lightly, sending sparks of pleasured pain through my veins. "You can beg all you want, love," he murmurs, his voice a taunt, "but I'm going to take my time."Azriel's grip on my throat is light, just enough to keep me grounded in the wild intensity between us. He keeps his gaze on me, unwavering, his eyes hidden behind the mask's shadows yet somehow sharper than ever, every silent command pulling me deeper under his control. I can't tear my eyes away, as though looking anywhere else might shatter the hold he has on me, on my body, on every pulse that races through my veins.

He moves, his hips rocking in a slow, merciless rhythm, building the ache between my legs until I'm sure I'll unravel at his slightest whim. Every brush, every thrust feels like he's staking his claim, making me his. My wrists strain in his grasp again, desperate, craving the friction of my fingers against his bare skin, but he tightens his hold, keeping me still, a silent reminder of who's in charge.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" His voice is a rough whisper, his lips grazing my ear. The low, taunting tone makes me shudder, my breaths turning ragged as he rolls his hips deeper, hitting a spot that pulls a strangled moan from my throat.

"Yes," I pant, my voice barely a whisper as he continues his slow, torturous pace, pushing me to the edge, but not letting me fall. His control over me is absolute, and the way he's drawing this out has me desperate, wanting to pull him closer and scream his name, to make him lose control just as he's making me.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through my body, and I can feel his smirk in the way his lips brush over my jaw, feather-light and maddeningly slow. "Then you'll be a good girl and take everything I give you," he murmurs, his voice like velvet and steel.

I nod frantically, my body arching up to meet his, each roll of his hips sending shocks of pleasure through me. He releases my wrists finally, his hands skimming down my sides, possessive and deliberate, leaving trails of fire everywhere he touches. My fingers immediately find their way to his back, clutching at him, pulling him closer as if I can tether him to me, my nails dragging over his skin hard enough to leave marks.

Azriel growls, his hips snapping harder, faster, and I gasp, my body tightening around him, helplessly caught in the rhythm he's set. His hands are on my hips now, gripping me, guiding me into each thrust, his strength and presence consuming me, making me feel everything all at once. The tension coils low in my belly, building with each movement, each whispered word, each smirk hidden behind that mask that keeps his face shrouded in mystery.

"Azriel,” I gasp, the pleasure reaching a fever pitch, teetering on the edge of release. He senses it, his hands tightening on my hips, holding me firmly as he drives into me, his pace relentless, unyielding, his gaze locked on mine, silently demanding I stay with him, watch him.

"That's it," he rasps, his voice low, thick with his own desire. "Let go for me."

So I do, a cry escaping me as the tension shatters, pleasure flooding through my body, leaving me trembling beneath him. He watches every reaction, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he slows, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until I'm gasping, utterly spent, and completely his.

Cassian

"This is ridiculous," I grumbled from behind the foldable dressing screen, glancing at myself in the mirror beside me. "Utterly ridiculous." I huffed.

"Come on out sweetheart," My mate says in a delighted tone, making my rage double.

With a permanent scowl on my face, I stepped from behind the divider shielding me from his gaze, facing the grinning male.

"I hate this. It's a total objectification, why can't females wear costumes that actually cover their asses?" I complained, doing my best to pull the short fabric down. "I mean c'mon, a sexy warrior costume? It's a juxtaposition in itself." I gesture down to the revealing costume, the spandex bodysuit doing little to cover, anything really, and I was certain I've seen belts bigger than the skirt, which were really just flaps of a gold material, meant to look like armor. "I mean, who would ever think this is a good idea?"

"I do." Cassian immediately answered, his eyes anywhere but my own.

"Cass," I blow out a breath, clenching my hands into fists and rocking back on my knee-high boots with a string of curses. He finally made eye contact with me, a winning smile on his lips that I was certain couldn't get any wider.

"Don't give me that look, you lost our bet fair and square," He said, giving me a pointed look. I roll my eyes, ignoring him.

"C'mere," He sighed from his seat on the couch. I frown but approach anyway. Once I'm an arm's length away he reaches out, his hands on the backs of my bare thighs, pulling me closer.

He looked up at me and leaned his chin on my stomach. I placed my hands on his shoulders, slowly slipping them into his hair as he guided me onto his lap, straddling his hips—as well as his prominently hard length.

His gaze flickered with amusement, though there was something darker glinting in his eyes, a challenge that I couldn't help but rise to. Even through my embarrassment, I could feel the tingling thrill creeping over my skin, his hands firm against the backs of my thighs as he held me.

"Still complaining?" he murmured, brushing his lips along my jaw. His voice was that low, dangerous tone he always took on when he was trying to coax me out of my irritation—and, unfortunately for me, it was very effective.

"Yes," I snapped, though my heart wasn't quite in it. His fingertips trailed along my thigh, tracing small circles that sent shivers up my spine. "This costume is horrible."

"It's a masterpiece," he disagreed, tugging me a little closer, his grin nothing short of wolfish. "I think it fits you perfectly, and you're going to look fantastic in it tonight."

Tonight. The event at Rita's. I was not looking forward to strutting around the pleasure hall dressed like this while every other female was draped in beautiful gowns, covered head to toe. But, the bet was a bet.

I leaned back slightly, folding my arms and arching a brow at him. "And what exactly are you wearing, hmm? If I have to parade around looking like this, the least you could do is show a little skin too." I tease, pulling at the collar of his shirt to expose a small expanse of his golden, muscular chest.

"Oh, I fully intend to match." His grin widened. "But first," His hands traveled higher, sending heat straight to my core, and his eyes darkened, drinking in every inch of me. "We have a few hours before we need to leave, and I think you're too tense to walk around like this. Let me help."

I shivered as his fingers traced my waist, his hands slipping beneath the hem of the bodysuit, igniting my skin wherever he touched. His lips followed, trailing hot kisses along my collarbone, his teeth grazing as he worked his way to the sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Cass," I managed, my voice faltering as he nipped at my skin, that devilish smirk never leaving his face. He chuckled, pulling back slightly to look up at me, one hand reaching up to cup my cheek.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers tangling into my hair as he brought my lips down to his. "I'll make you forget all about that bet."

Cassian's hands explored beneath the costume, his touch deliberately slow as he traced the aching curves of my body. "Admit it," he whispered, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns down my spine. "You enjoy knowing that everyone tonight will be looking at you." His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. "Knowing they'll all wish they could touch you," He let the words hang between us, his hands drifting lower, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of my thighs with a feather-light touch. "But they can't. Because you're mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through me, and I felt my resistance crumble completely. I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that was anything but gentle, pouring all of my pent-up frustration and desire into it. He responded eagerly, his hands gripping my thighs as he pulled me even closer, his mouth devouring mine with a fierce hunger that left me breathless.

He kissed me with a passion that was both possessive and reverent. My fingers dug into his shoulders, holding onto him as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hot and demanding against mine. His hands drifted up my sides, gripping me through the skin-tight bodysuit and sending a shiver down my spine as he traced over every curve with a knowing touch.

"Cassian," I gasped as he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that made my breath hitch. His hands found their way to the small clasp at the back of the bodysuit, his fingers working deftly to undo it as he pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone.

"Let me see you," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with desire. The costume slipped from my shoulders, and he pulled back slightly to take me in, his gaze dark with unrestrained hunger as he looked at me.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks under his intense scrutiny, but his expression held nothing but awe and reverence. He reached out, brushing a thumb over my cheek before leaning in to kiss me again, his hands roaming over my now-exposed skin with a possessiveness that made my heart race.

His lips found their way to my neck, then lower, trailing a path of fire down my body as he took his time savoring every inch of me. I arched into him, lost in the sensation, my fingers tangling in his hair as he worshipped me with his touch, each kiss and caress sending another spark of desire through me.

Cassian's hands moved with a confidence and skill that left no room for doubt, his touch firm yet gentle as he explored every inch of me, his lips following wherever his hands had been, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made me gasp and cling to him for support.

By the time his gaze met mine again, I was breathless, my skin tingling in the aftermath of his attention. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself as he took in my flushed, disheveled state, his hands still holding me close as he leaned in to press one last, searing kiss to my lips.

"Still think the costume is ridiculous?" he asked, his voice low and teasing as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, a smug grin on his face.

I could barely form words, my mind still clouded with the remnants of our heated exchange. "Maybe," I managed, breathless, "but I think you convinced me to keep it on. For now."

Eris Vanserra

"Eris," I breathed, struggling to keep composure with the way he had his hand pressed to my pulsing cunt, my back arching into his chest. "Not here," I whispered, anxiously scanning the area for any onlookers, but the corn maze we stood in was empty—while the maze was open to the public at all times, it was three am and Eris seemed certain we were the only ones in here.

"No?" He purred beside my ear, his hand past my skirt and rubbing me through my soaked panties. "The idea of getting caught, it isn't making you soaked for me?" I shake my head no. "Say it then," He demanded.

I frowned, unable to form the words, because in truth he knew how turned on this made me, the thrilling possibility of being caught, the anticipation leaving me dripping.

Eris chuckled deeply from beside me, his fingers adding a little more pressure, his thumb connecting to my clothed clit. I let out a quiet moan at the sensation, my body going taut. "That's what I thought." He smirked, walking me over to a bench of hay bales, and guiding me to lay down atop them.

He didn't drag on the foreplay much longer, he spread my legs and settled between them, hands slipping up my thighs, gripping my panties and shredding through them—my breath hitched at the idea of having to walk home with nothing beneath my skirt.

Eris tossed the torn fabric aside and leaned in, his amber eyes dark with desire. The night air wrapped around us, cool against my heated skin, and the rough texture of the hay scratched at my back as he settled between my thighs. His hands slid up, pushing my skirt further until I was entirely exposed to him.

"You're mine tonight," he murmured, voice dripping with promise as he nipped at my inner thigh, lips grazing against my sensitive skin. His mouth moved closer, and my breath caught when his hot breath fanned over me.

Eris looked up, catching my gaze with a wicked grin. "Look at you," he said, voice low, sending a thrill down my spine. "So eager and ready, even out here, where anyone could stumble upon us."

I opened my mouth to protest, but it was too late. His tongue pressed against me, deliberate and slow, and I couldn't help the strangled moan that slipped past my lips. My hands flew to the hay beneath me, fingers clutching it as he worked me over, every flick of his tongue bringing me closer to the edge.

Eris's grip on my thighs tightened as he picked up the pace, his hands holding me in place as he devoured me with the fervor of a man who knew exactly how to unravel me. I squirmed, breathless, my body arching into his mouth, desperate for more of his touch.

"Eris—" I gasped, voice breaking as the pressure inside me built, wave after wave, until I thought I might come undone right there on the hay bales.

He pulled back just as I teetered on the edge, and I let out a whine of frustration. His hands skimmed up my thighs, his fingers tracing teasing circles around my sensitive skin. "Not so fast," he murmured, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I want to savor this."

Without warning, he moved up, his mouth crashing against mine, tasting of sin and satisfaction. I could feel him pressing against me, hard and ready, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Impatient little thing," he murmured against my lips, positioning himself at my entrance. He pressed in slowly, deliberately, stretching me inch by inch until I was full of him, filled in a way that left me gasping.

His movements started slow, torturous, every thrust dragging against every sensitive part of me until I was writhing beneath him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. He gripped my hips, angling himself just right, and I cried out as he hit that perfect spot, over and over.

"Quiet," he growled, his voice dark with need. "We don't want anyone hearing, do we?"

I bit my lip, nodding, though it was almost impossible to stay silent with the way he was making me feel. Each thrust sent sparks through me, each movement bringing me closer to the edge until I was teetering on the brink.

"Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, and that was all I needed. The tension inside me snapped, and pleasure crashed over me, wave after wave, leaving me breathless and spent.

Eris followed moments later, a low groan escaping him as he buried himself deep, claiming me fully.

We stayed there for a moment, tangled together, breathing hard in the quiet of the corn maze. Finally, he pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he helped me sit up, brushing a stray piece of hay from my hair.

"See?" he murmured, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Nothing wrong with a little adventure."

Lucien Vanserra

Lucien's touch was everywhere, his fingers leaving streaks of dark green body paint across my flushed skin, each one a vivid reminder of his presence. The paint, cheap and easy to transfer, coated his hands and forearms from the Halloween party we'd come from, smearing onto me with every touch. Each brush of his hands, each powerful thrust, left a fresh line, almost as if he were marking me in a way that would last long after tonight.

I could feel the paint dragging down my sides, streaking across my jaw, and dotting my thighs as he spread my legs wider, his grip tightening until I was sure I'd feel his touch in bruises tomorrow. But I wanted it—I wanted to feel him, to wear these marks like badges, his possessiveness painting me just as much as his body was. When his hands gripped my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperation, his fingertips sinking into the flesh there, my back arched off the sheets in response. The once pristine white cotton beneath us was now as stained as I was, smeared with trails of dark green.

"Lucien," I gasped, air thick in my lungs as I gripped his long, red hair, my fingers twisting through it as I tugged, spurred by the overwhelming need pulsing through me. He responded to that touch, that pull, with a low groan, his thrusts only growing more insistent, more relentless.

"That's it, fuck, you feel so good," he growled, his voice rough, raw with desire. His mouth latched onto the column of my throat, lips, and teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he bit, sucked, and kissed along the exposed line of my neck. I threw my head back into the pillow, leaving myself open for him, letting the pleasure he was giving me flow freely, like a dam that had finally broken.

My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, my heels digging into his tanned back, urging him deeper. He shifted, and the new angle had me crying out, breathless at how perfectly he hit that sweet spot deep inside, each stroke deliberate yet utterly consuming. He was toying with me, his movements almost teasing, reveling in how he could make me writhe beneath him with ease.

With a wicked grin, Lucien adjusted his grip on my hips, his fingers pressing in just enough that I knew I'd feel his touch lingering long after the paint was gone. "Gods," he rasped, his voice thick with a hunger that mirrored my own. "You're taking me so well."

He leaned forward, his mouth trailing from my collarbone to my jaw, leaving warm, wet kisses in his wake. The scent of the body paint, mingling with his own earthy, masculine scent, filled the air, grounding me in the moment, and pulling me deeper under his spell.

"Did you wear that costume just for me?" he whispered, his teeth grazing the edge of my earlobe. For a brief, foggy moment, I tried to remember what I'd worn—a tight, dark dress that clung to every curve, a costume that had caught his eye from the moment I'd slipped it on, all of it meant to tempt him. Now, though, that seemed like a distant memory. All I could focus on was him, and the way he was dragging me to the brink.

"Only you," I managed to respond, my voice breaking as his pace deepened, his thrusts hitting harder, more intense. My moans filled the room, and he chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound that sent a new wave of heat rushing through me.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice a rough, approving growl that shattered what little composure I had left. The praise sparked something in me, a desperate need for him to claim me completely, to fill every inch of me with his touch, his mark.

His thumbs pressed deeper into my hips, each movement of his hands adding new streaks of paint across my skin, his handprints smudging and smearing, as though he was branding me in his color. I could barely focus on anything beyond the sensation of him inside me, his body pressing into mine, his rough grip leaving trails of green along my ribs, and across my chest. I was his canvas, his masterpiece, and he was painting me with every thrust, every stroke of his fingers, every fierce kiss.

"You look good covered in me," he murmured, voice thick with a possessive satisfaction, his gaze devouring the sight of me beneath him, painted in his touch, his color. His hand drifted lower, wrapping around my thigh as he pulled me closer, his body aligning with mine in a way that made me gasp. Dark, messy lines streaked up the insides of my thighs, each one left there by his relentless grip.

As he leaned down, his hands came to rest on either side of my face, framing me, holding me as if I were something precious, even as he moved within me with a power that stole the breath from my lungs. His fingers, cool and damp with paint, brushed across my cheeks, his thumbs stroking gentle lines down my skin, leaving more traces of green. His mouth captured mine in a kiss that was searing, consuming, leaving no part of me untouched. The faintly earthy scent of the paint mingled with his taste, heady and intoxicating, making me feel dizzy as he filled every one of my senses.

The paint on his hands smeared along my jaw as his lips moved to follow, dragging a cool line down my neck, across my collarbone, until I could feel streaks trailing along my throat. The sensation of his palms sliding down my sides, smearing green across my ribs and waist, anchored me to him, to this moment. Each press of his hands painted me more thoroughly, my back arching into him as he moved as if my body was begging for every last trace of his mark.

When his body shifted, his fingers traced down my thighs, painting new lines in their wake, each touch leaving trails of dark green and filling me with a sense of being utterly, inescapably his. My body responded to him without hesitation, and I felt the pressure within me coil, tight and consuming, ready to break.

Lucien's hands never stopped moving, his fingers claiming every inch of me as his mouth grazed my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin as he whispered, "Come for me."

That command tipped me over the edge, and I shattered, my release crashing through me with a force that left me breathless, boneless. Lucien followed moments later, his voice a rough, broken sound as he called out my name, his body shuddering against mine as he finally stilled, both of us lost in the waves of pleasure that washed over us.

As we lay there, tangled together, my skin smeared with paint and his touch, I felt like a masterpiece—a living canvas painted in dark green streaks and handprints, marked in every way by him. Every smudge of color, every line on my skin, was a reminder of this night, a night I knew I'd never forget.

Read the SFW version here -> link

Replies and Reposts are always appreciated! ❤️

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[ghostpepperworld]

Took melatonin for the first time in like a month and

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴? 𝑶𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎? (Kinktober special) (J.M)

⤷Credits: Pinterest

Pornstar!Joel Miller x F!Reader | WC : 9.4k | Proof Read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | Kinktober Request list | Kinktober Masterlist | asks : OPEN

Summary: He hunts you through the shadows, every sick, voyeuristic moment immortalized on camera. But it's not just fear coursing through you—your most depraved desires awaken when he finally closes in and takes what he's been watching from afar.

Warnings : dub-con themes, making of porn, voyeurism (making porn and having sex for an audience), toys, role-playing, stalking, power dynamics, cat and chase, spanking choking, knife play, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, degrading, oral M!, breeding kink, fear, mask kink, VERY ROUGH, KINKY AND DARK

A/N: When I say this has been sitting in my drafts for a LONGGG TIME, I'm not lying. I loved this idea, and I hope you guys love it just as much. Thank you so much to my lovely mutuals who listened to me yap and yap about this for almost two months. I'm so sorry I haven't been active. I'm a teaching assistant, and life is wild.

You stood in the kitchen, trying hard not to glance at the camera perched atop the microwave. Its red recording light blinked steadily, reminding you that every move, every breath, was being captured. The sound of popcorn popping on the stove filled the silence of the house, a comforting rhythm in the eerie stillness. The blue tint of the night, barely enough to see by, blended with the dim candlelight scattered around the room, creating a shadowy, unsettling atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for what was about to go down, and you had to keep your composure, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your lips.

This wasn’t just any night. This was the fall special for Sinning Sinners, the site that you and Joel had built from the ground up. It wasn’t your usual shoot where you’d just pull out a camera, fuck each other’s brains out, and call it a day. No, this was something more—something you both lived for, something that had become a tradition, an annual ritual that made your fans lose their fucking minds. Every fall, you and Joel took things up a notch, diving headfirst into the darker, kinkier side of your fantasies. It wasn’t just about sex; it was about pushing boundaries, about blending fear and desire until the line between them blurred into something that made your audience addicted.

Last year, you’d done a haunted corn maze, where Joel had fucked you right in the middle of it, surrounded by the rustling stalks and the cool night air. You could still feel the roughness of the corn beneath your hands, still hear the way you’d moaned like a slut as Joel took you in that eerie, isolated field. The memory alone made heat pool between your legs, a filthy reminder of how wild it had been, how much your fans had eaten it up. They’d gone crazy for it, the combination of fear and lust driving them to hit replay again and again. That’s what Sinning Sinners was all about—giving them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, something that made them come back for more, desperate for whatever twisted shit you and Joel would come up with next.

It had started with a late-night viewing of Scream. The room was dark except for the flickering light of the TV, casting eerie shadows across Joel’s face as you watched the familiar scenes unfold. You’d both seen it countless times, but something about that night felt different—charged. Joel’s hand rested on your thigh, his grip tightening with every kill, every chase, his eyes never leaving the screen.

When the credits rolled, he turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before that spark of twisted inspiration flickered in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice low and deliberate, “we’ve never done anything with Ghostface before.” There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of his words. “What if…this year, we take it further? Darker, dirtier. You could be the clueless victim, and I could be him. Stalking you, making you wait until I’m ready to strike.”

The second he mentioned it, your heart skipped a beat, excitement rushing through your veins. You could picture it already—Joel in the mask, his voice taunting you through the fabric, the thrill of being hunted, knowing what was coming but not when. It was perfect. The embodiment of fear and lust, wrapped in a twisted, beautiful package

The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic popping of kernels on the stove. You focused on the mundane task, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as the salty scent filled the air, trying to keep your cool. But it wasn’t easy. The night was thick with tension, the kind you could almost taste, like the first touch of a lover’s hand. You knew Joel was out there, somewhere in the darkness, watching you with those predatory eyes, waiting for his cue. It was all part of the game—the unspoken thrill of knowing you were being hunted, of playing dumb when you were anything but.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to glance out the window. You’d agreed not to look, not to break character, even though every instinct screamed at you to check, to catch a glimpse of him lurking in the shadows. Instead, you turned your attention to the DVD shelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the old horror movies. The camera, placed discreetly beside it, was rolling, capturing the subtle tremor in your hands, the way your breath hitched when you thought about what was coming. You grabbed a classic—something with blood, screams, and just the right amount of tension—and turned your back to the camera, giving the viewers a perfect shot of the darkened window behind you. They’d be watching, waiting, knowing exactly what was coming even if you were supposed to be oblivious.

You carried the bowl and the DVD down the hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet adding to the tension. The house felt alive, every shadow shifting as you passed as if it were in on the game. Your thoughts wandered to what was waiting in the bedroom, not just the TV and blankets, but also the props and toys you’d stashed away earlier. A black silk blindfold, a sleek vibrator, a collection of menacingly gleaming, faux weapons—everything was set, just in case things took a darker turn. The details mattered, after all.They were what made Sinning Sinners so addictive. The unpredictability, the raw, unfiltered lust that seeped into every frame, every shot. You never planned the sex, only the build-up—the suspense, the tension that made it all so fucking good.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You grabbed the old-school camera from the nightstand, the one you loved for its Y2K aesthetic, and snapped a quick photo. The flash momentarily blinded you, and you knew this shot would have to be carefully edited out of the final cut, but when your vision cleared, the result was exactly what you wanted. A keepsake, a little reminder of the night and the game you were about to play.

Finally, you settled into bed, propping yourself up against the pillows as the movie started to play. The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows across the room, heightening the tension. You let yourself get lost in it for a moment, the familiar scenes of blood and screams playing out on the screen, a reflection of the chaos that would soon unfold in your own home. But your mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on Joel, on the darkness creeping closer, on the game you’d both set in motion.

And then, you heard it—a faint creak, barely audible over the sound of the movie. But it was enough. Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you strained to listen. Another sound followed, this one more distinct, coming from the living room. The cue. It was time.

You slid out of bed, the cool air kissing your bare legs as you padded toward the door. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to match the growing tension. You were supposed to be scared, after all. You were supposed to be the clueless girl in the horror movie, the one who heard a noise and just had to investigate. It was cliché, but that was the point. The audience would be yelling at their screens, telling you to stay put, but you knew better. You knew exactly what was coming.

The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as you slowly entered. The popcorn bowl from earlier sat untouched on your dresser, a silent reminder of the night’s buildup. Your eyes drifted to the window, where the curtains fluttered ever so slightly, caught by a breeze you hadn’t noticed before. You tried to ignore the unsettling chill that crept up your spine, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint movement just outside—a hint of something, or someone, lurking in the darkness.

But you felt it. You felt him.

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for the source of the sound. The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw it—the flicker of movement, the unmistakable shape of a figure slipping into the room. You turned, just in time to see him, clad in black, the Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.

Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you. You yelped, more out of excitement than fear, and bolted toward the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you ran, the thrill of the chase making your pulse race. You knew he was right behind you, could feel his presence like a shadow closing in.

The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles. You skidded to a stop, chest heaving as you spun around to face him. There he was, just a few feet away, the knife in his hand catching the light as he approached. The sight of him, the menace in his slow, deliberate steps, sent a delicious thrill through you.

You backed up against the counter, feeling the cool edge press into your lower back as Joel closed in on you. The Ghostface mask obscured his face, but you knew his eyes were locked on you, hungry, predatory. The thrill of the chase had your heart racing, adrenaline and desire blending into a heady mix that made your skin tingle. You watched as he glanced around the kitchen, his gaze settling on the knife block just within arm’s reach. He didn’t have a weapon with him—of course, he didn’t—but now, as his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife, the game took on a sharper, more dangerous edge.

Your breath hitched as he raised the knife, its gleaming blade catching the candlelight. For a split second, you were frozen, caught between the rush of fear and the wave of arousal that flooded your senses. This was what you craved—the danger, the tension, the feeling of being completely at someone else’s mercy. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

In a sudden burst of movement, you lifted your foot and stomped down hard on his, the force of it catching him by surprise. Joel grunted, the sound muffled by the mask, and his grip on the knife faltered just enough for you to slip past him. You bolted for the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted toward the bedroom, the thrill of the escape making you lightheaded. You could hear him behind you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house, getting closer with every second.

You burst into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you, but it barely slowed him down. You knew he was right there, just a heartbeat away. You stumbled back, your legs shaky from the rush, and tripped over the edge of the rug. You went down hard, knees hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that only added to the intensity of the moment. The door crashed open, and there he was, looming in the doorway, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Please, mister Ghostface,” you whimpered, crawling backward as he advanced on you. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, breathless, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear. You were playing your role to perfection, the terrified victim begging for her life, but beneath the surface, you were buzzing with anticipation. You knew the script—you knew he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t break character. The silence was part of the game, part of what made it so thrilling. It kept you on edge, never knowing what he’d do next, never knowing when he’d strike.

You tried to crawl away, but you were trembling too much, your movements slow, uncoordinated. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the pulse of arousal matching the rhythm of your pounding heart. You knew you should be scared, terrified even, but all you could think about was how fucking turned on you were. Every time you glanced up at that mask, and saw the cold, expressionless eyes staring down at you, it sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

Your hands slipped on the floor as you tried to scramble to your feet, but before you could get far, he was on you. Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back toward him. You yelped, twisting in his grip, but it was useless. You were caught, and you both knew it. You fell back onto your knees, breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. The air between you was thick with tension, every nerve in your body screaming with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and yet the thrill of it sent shivers down your spine. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but you knew Joel was beneath it, knew he was savoring this moment as much as you were. The thought made your pulse quicken, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every passing second.

Joel’s grip on your ankle was firm and possessive, and you could feel the strength in his hand as he slowly, deliberately pulled you closer. You tried to resist, to put up a token fight, but it was half-hearted at best. Deep down, you wanted this—wanted him to overpower you, to take control. The struggle only heightened your desire, making your skin tingle with excitement as you were dragged back across the floor.

His gloved hand trailed up your leg, rough leather brushing against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his touch grew more suggestive, his fingers grazing the hem of your panties. The sensation was maddening, a teasing reminder of what you craved, what you’d been waiting for all night. You arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch, silently begging for more, but he didn’t give in—not yet.

Instead, he took his time, savoring your helplessness, the way you trembled beneath him. His other hand found its way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to make you squirm. He held you there, pinned in place, and the dominance in his grip made your breath hitch, a sharp intake of air that only made you feel more vulnerable, more at his mercy. The knife, still clutched in his other hand, gleamed ominously in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held over you.

With a sudden, forceful motion, Joel lifted you by your hips, his strength taking you by surprise as he hoisted you onto the bed. You let out a gasp as your body was flipped, your stomach pressed against the mattress, your ass in the air. The position left you exposed, and vulnerable, and the cool air on your bare skin only heightened the sensation. Your panties clung to you, soaked through with arousal, and the thought of him seeing you like this—desperate, needy—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You turned your head to look back at him, the mask still hiding his face, but you knew what was behind it. You knew the look in his eyes, the hunger, the need. It made your heart race, made you want to push him further, to see just how far he’d take it. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you wiggled your hips slightly, teasing him, challenging him.

“What’s the matter, Ghostface?” you taunted, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna make me beg for it?”

The tension in the room crackled like electricity, your words hanging in the air, daring him to react. You could feel the heat of his stare through the mask, the way his breathing had grown heavier, more deliberate. You were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but that was half the fun. You wanted to see just how far you could go, how much you could provoke him before he snapped.

Joel’s hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging in harder, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped from your lips. The sting of it, the roughness, only added to the ache between your legs, made you grind against the bed in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. You wanted him—wanted him to take you, to claim you, to make you his. But he didn’t move, didn’t give you what you were silently pleading for.

Instead, he leaned in close, the knife gliding along the curve of your ass, cold metal sending chills down your spine. You shivered, the sensation both terrifying and thrilling, the line between fear and desire blurring even further. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—knew this was all part of the game—but that didn’t stop your heart from racing, didn’t stop the pulse of arousal that throbbed between your thighs.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t with words. It was with action. His hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack of it echoing through the room. You gasped, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, leaving you breathless. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, that rough, unyielding touch that reminded you who was in control. Your bratty defiance melted away, replaced by a desperate need to please him, to be good for him.

The weight of the bed shifted beneath you, the mattress dipping slightly as Joel moved. You could feel his presence hovering behind you, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with a desperate need for him. You knew what was coming, could sense the change in the atmosphere, the way the game was evolving into something even more intense.

You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the sensations coursing through you. The sound of fabric rustling behind you sent a shiver down your spine, the unmistakable sign that Joel was shedding his clothes, leaving only the mask to maintain the illusion. Your heart raced at the thought, your imagination running wild with what he’d do next, how he’d use that control to push you to your limits.

The bed shifted again, and you felt his hands on your hips, rough and demanding as he flipped you over onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto the masked face hovering above you. The sight was both terrifying and exhilarating, that blank, soulless expression sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The contrast between the mask and the naked body beneath it was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, the thrill of surrendering to something dark and unknown.

Before you could react, his hand was on your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your breath catch. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a clear message—one of dominance, of control. Your pulse quickened, the thrum of it vibrating against his palm as he leaned in closer, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

His other hand moved to your mouth, a single finger pressing against your lips in a silent command to stay quiet. The shh motion was simple, but the intensity behind it made your stomach twist with excitement. He didn’t need to speak; his actions said everything, and you were more than willing to follow his lead. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought of what he might do next made your body hum with anticipation.

Your thoughts spiraled in a chaotic mix of desire and anticipation, each passing second tightening the knot of tension inside you. Pinned beneath Joel’s weight, you could feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he loomed over you, the room closing in, suffocating you in the intensity of the moment. Each breath felt heavier, every second stretching out, the silence amplifying the raw need that pulsed between you like a live wire. Your mind raced, imagining all the ways he might break you—would he drag it out, tease you until you were trembling and desperate, or would he take what he wanted in that dark, primal way that left you aching for more? The uncertainty was maddening, fueling the fire that burned hotter with every second, leaving you trembling beneath him, craving whatever came next.

His hand lingered on your throat, the pressure a warning, a promise of what was to come. But then it shifted, slipping away only to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back with a sharp tug that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You gasped, the sting of it igniting something deep inside you, a spark that fanned into a wildfire. His grip tightened, possessive, commanding, and it made your blood hum with anticipation. But before you could even think to protest, to utter a single word, his other hand cracked across your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breath, the pain mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly, your body instinctively arching toward him, craving more.

You whimpered, the sound breaking free before you could stop it, a desperate little plea that hung in the air between you. But before you could say more, Joel brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. The power in that small gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out again. Your mind scrambled, caught between the urge to obey and the desire to push him, to see just how far he’d go to enforce that command.

“Please…,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, the word laced with the need clawing at you from the inside. “Please, I need—”

His hand snapped out, pressing against your mouth in a firm, silencing grip. The warning was clear: no more words. The message sent a rush of heat straight to your core, leaving you trembling beneath him, your breath hitching as the tension wound tighter. The edge of danger, the unknown, had you teetering on the brink, each second a delicious torture.

His grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back further, exposing your neck as his hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around your throat again, squeezing just enough to keep you on edge, to remind you who was in control. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. When he finally released you, your lips parted on their own, eager and ready, a silent invitation, your body screaming for him, for the release only he could give.

Joel didn’t waste a second. The urgency in his movements was palpable as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. Your eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, veined, and already slick with precum. It stood proud and heavy, the tip flushed a deep, angry red, a testament to how badly he needed this, how badly he needed you. The sight of it made your mouth water, every nerve in your body singing with the anticipation of what was coming next. He didn’t bother with teasing, didn’t ease you into it. No, he was done with patience.

With a rough tug on your hair, he pulled your head down, forcing your mouth open as he guided the head of his cock to your lips. The taste of salt hit your tongue, heady and intoxicating, and you opened wider, welcoming him in. He pushed forward, the thick head sliding past your lips, inch by inch, stretching your mouth in the most delicious way. There was no gentleness, no care in his movements—he took what he wanted, and you let him, relishing the way he filled you, the way his cock slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made you gag, your eyes watering.

But you didn’t pull back. You leaned into it, taking him as far as you could, the taste of him filling your senses. His hips rocked forward with a steady rhythm, his grip in your hair unyielding as he held you in place, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. Every thrust sent a jolt through you, the sound of your gagging, the wet, vulgar noises your mouth made as it worked around him echoing in the small room. Your hands found his thighs, nails digging in, desperate for something to hold onto as you tried to keep up with the pace he set. You could feel him trembling, his breath hitching as he fucked your mouth, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you to your limits.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, when the burn in your throat became too much, he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But there was no reprieve. Joel spun you around, flipping you onto your back with a force that left you breathless, your head spinning. The bed creaked beneath you as he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and positioning you exactly how he wanted—bent over the edge of the bed, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the cool sheets. The position was humiliating and degrading, and it only made you want him more. You could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into your skin, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure that thrummed through you, making your body tremble with need.

He wasted no time, no gentle caress—just pure, unfiltered need. His cock nudged against your entrance, the wetness there making it easy for him to slide in. The stretch was exquisite, each inch of him filling you in a way that made your toes curl, your back arching as you tried to take more, to feel more. He went slow at first, almost teasing, just enough to drive you crazy, to make you desperate. But the patience didn’t last. Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow.

With a growl, he grabbed your legs, yanking them together at the knees, binding them tightly with the rope he had stashed nearby. The sensation of being bound, completely at his mercy, made your head spin, your thoughts blurring with the intensity of it. You whimpered into the pillow, your voice muffled, but he didn’t care. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm, and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You could barely breathe, the weight of him pressing down on you, the way he filled you so completely making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need to be fucked, to be owned.

“Please…” The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard the desperation, the plea, and it only made him smirk. His fingers found your lips, pressing against them in a silent command for silence, a reminder that you were his to control, to take.

And take he did.

He thrust into you hard, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The angle was different now, deeper, more intense, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel every inch of him, the way he pulsed inside you, the way his cock twitched with every movement. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his body wrapping around you, suffocating in the most delicious way. The weight of him, the sheer power behind each thrust, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think. All you needed was him, and he gave it to you—hard and unrelenting.

His grip on your arms tightened, holding you in place as he started to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, driving you into the mattress with a force that left you breathless. The bed shook with the intensity of it, your body jerking with each movement, your mind going blank as you surrendered to the rhythm he set, the brutal, unforgiving pace that had you on the edge of oblivion. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, your senses overloaded, your thoughts reduced to a single, all-consuming need. More. You needed more.

At some point, he reached up, and grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back so he could take a picture with the camera perched nearby. The flash went off, a quick burst of light that left you momentarily blinded, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way his cock felt inside you, the way his movements became more erratic, more desperate as he neared his release. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap.

And then it did.

With one final, brutal thrust, Joel slammed into you, burying himself deep as he came, the hot rush of his seed flooding you, marking you as his. Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him, milking every last drop as a moan tore from your lips, muffled against the mattress. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and breathless, your mind wiped clean by the sheer intensity of it.

He stayed there for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. The world felt distant, the only reality was the sensation of him inside you, the raw, primal connection that had just played out between you. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Joel pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you shudder, your body still quivering from the aftershocks, your mind struggling to piece together what had just transpired.

The weight of Joel’s body finally lifted as he pushed himself up, his chest rising and falling with ragged, labored breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting, the bed creaking softly beneath you both as the raw intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air like a living thing. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the slick sheen of sweat clinging to him, his hands still trembling slightly as he reached up to remove the mask.

Slowly, Joel peeled off the Ghostface mask, revealing his flushed, sweat-slicked face beneath. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead in dark, messy strands, and his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were still clouded with the remnants of desire. The sight of him, so raw and exposed, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body instinctively responding to the primal energy he exuded. Even after everything, he still looked insatiable—like he could take more, give more, his hunger a tangible force that hung in the air between you, making you ache all over again.

Joel let out a long, satisfied breath, his half-smirk teasing as he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and deep, the rasp of it crawling down your spine. “We’re done, sweetheart. Scene’s over.”

You laughed, soft and breathless, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just happened. “That was fucking intense,” you managed to say, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction, your muscles still quivering in the aftermath.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He leaned against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m telling you, baby,” he said with a smirk, his voice still ragged from exertion. “I’m fifty-six fuckin’ years old. Keep this up, and I might need a vasectomy just to survive.”

You snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow as you turned your head, grinning at him. “Maybe you should consider it,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But then again, where’s the fun in that? I’d miss all that old man cum you’re so damn good at shooting.”

Joel rolled his eyes, his breath still uneven, but his lips quirked up in amusement. “Right,” he drawled, his voice dry as ever. “That’s definitely what you’d miss most.”

You shrugged, the banter lightening the air between you. But even as the playful words filled the space, your gaze was drawn back to him—the way sweat still glistened on his skin, the flush across his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His body was like a furnace, radiating heat that pulled you in, and despite the teasing, you could feel the tension building again, that familiar hunger stirring deep within you.

God, his age did something to you. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he carried himself, the way experience was etched into every line on his rugged face, in every confident movement. Joel knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you past your limits and pull you back just before you fell over the edge. The years had only made him more magnetic, the broad expanse of his chest, the strength in his arms, the silver at his temples—every mark of time made him even more devastatingly irresistible. He wasn’t some boy fumbling his way through; he was all man, and that raw masculinity turned you on in ways you couldn’t even fully explain.

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you took him in, your eyes tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, the beads of sweat clinging to his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he began to recover. The thought of what he was capable of, what he had already done to you, sent a fresh surge of heat flooding your core. Your body was already aching for more, the desire rekindled like an unquenchable fire, burning hotter with every glance.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, your hand trailing down his chest, the hard muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched at the contact, his body tensing beneath your touch. You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as your lips hovered near his ear. “You know, Joel,” you purred, your tone dripping with want, “it’s fucking hot that you can still fuck me like this. Fifty-six and still going strong? That’s a serious turn-on.”

His eyes darkened instantly, the playful amusement giving way to something more dangerous, more primal. “You think so?” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You like fucking an old man, huh?”

“Love it,” you whispered, your hand sliding lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. “You’ve got experience, you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s sexy as hell.”

The tension between you thickened, the air charged with electricity. The teasing words from earlier faded into the background as that insatiable hunger flared up again, demanding attention. Without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of his sweat lingered on your tongue, mingling with the musk of sex still clinging to his skin. The kiss was intense, a clash of teeth and tongues, the kind that left bruises and made you ache for more.

Joel responded instantly, his mouth claiming yours with a raw hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The heat of him pressed against you, reigniting that fire burning in your belly, a fire that demanded to be fed.

You pulled back just enough to grab the Ghostface mask, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic as you lifted it from his lap. You held it up, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked at him, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “My turn?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the bed, clearly amused. “You sure you can handle it, Ghostface?” His voice was thick with anticipation, but there was a challenge there too, something dark and thrilling.

You slipped the mask over your head, adjusting it until it fit snugly, the darkness of it shrouding your vision, heightening every sensation. The thrill of the role reversal sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Through the narrow eyeholes, you could see Joel watching you, his grin widening as he leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head, his gaze trailing over your body.

“Oh, I can handle it,” you purred, your voice muffled and distorted by the mask, but the confidence in your tone was unmistakable. “Question is… can you?”

Joel’s laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that made your pulse quicken. “Bring it on, baby,” he challenged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a swift, determined movement, you straddled his hips, the feel of his hard length pressing against your core sending a jolt of desire straight through you. The mask heightened everything—the darkness, the mystery, the anonymity—and it made you feel powerful, dangerous, like you could do anything, take anything.

You ground down against him, teasingly slow, the friction making both of you groan in raw pleasure. “You like this, old man?” you taunted, your voice a low, sultry growl that cut through the room like a blade. “You like it when I’m on top, calling the shots?”

Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he tried to take back control, to guide the rhythm, but you weren’t about to let that happen. With a swift motion, you shoved his hands away, reclaiming your dominance with a fierce determination. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, the throbbing of his cock against you making it almost impossible to resist the urge to give in. But you were far from finished.

Straddling him, you felt a surge of power course through you, the mask hiding the wicked smile that curled your lips. “You think just because you’ve got a few years on me, you can control me?” you challenged, your voice muffled by the mask, but the taunting edge in your tone was unmistakable, dripping with dark satisfaction.

Joel's eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them giving way to something far darker, more intense. His pupils dilated, his gaze locking onto yours with a challenge that made your pulse quicken. “I know I can,” he growled, his voice thick with conviction. In one swift motion, he bucked his hips upward, and the sudden pressure of him—thick and unforgiving—against your core forced a stifled moan from your lips, the sound muffled by the mask. The sensation was electric, the jolt of it spreading through your body, but you were determined not to let him win this round.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your arousal slick and ready, but you held back, savoring the power you had over him in this moment. You leaned forward, your masked face just inches from his, the darkness of the Ghostface mask amplifying the wicked grin spreading across your lips. “You love it when I take charge, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice low and dripping with seductive malice. Your fingers wrapped around his length, feeling the way his cock twitched in your grip, hard and pulsing with need.

He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you rubbed the tip of him against your slick folds. The tease was torturous—for both of you—but it only fueled the fire burning in your belly. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure through you, but you held him just at the edge, denying him the satisfaction of slipping inside.

Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared up at you, his chest heaving with barely controlled desire. “You think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” he spat, the challenge in his voice unmistakable. “Playing games with me? You know damn well who’s really in control here.”

Your heart raced, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. But you weren’t about to back down. The power you felt in this moment was intoxicating, and you reveled in it, letting it wash over you like a drug. You leaned in even closer, the mask brushing against his face, your breath hot and heavy as you whispered, “I’m the one calling the shots tonight, old man. And you’re going to beg for it.”

His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stared up at you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could flip on a dime, but that only made it more exhilarating. Without warning, you sank down on him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch, the stretch of him filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much—your body trembling as you tried to accommodate his size—but you reveled in the delicious torment of it, in the way his eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent groan as he felt you envelope him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The fullness was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, stretching you to your limits, but instead of relenting, you pushed back against the sensation, embracing it, letting it consume you.

Joel’s hands shot to your thighs, his grip bruising as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t about to let him. You started to move, your pace slow and torturous at first, dragging out every inch of him until he was panting beneath you, his body straining with the effort to hold back. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that made your whole body hum with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice strained, his control slipping as you rode him harder, faster. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep up with you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You’re going to kill me.”

A wicked grin spread across your lips beneath the mask, your own breath coming faster as you leaned in close, your voice dripping with mockery. “Good,” you hissed, your breath hot against his skin, your words cutting like a knife. “I want you to feel every fucking second of this.”

Your pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, but you were relentless, driving him to the edge, pushing him to the brink until he was gasping for breath, his control hanging by a thread.

But Joel wasn’t one to be outdone. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip ironclad as he suddenly flipped you over, pinning you beneath him with a swift, powerful motion. The loss of control sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that made your heart race. The mask slipped slightly, but you didn’t care—you were too far gone, too caught up in the intensity of it all.

“Can’t hear you too well through that mask, baby,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dripping with a primal need that smoldered between you. It was that shift—how effortlessly he went from serious to sexy, from calm to commanding—that made your heart race. You loved how he could flip the switch so quickly, one moment a stern, unyielding force, the next a devilish tease who knew exactly how to push your buttons. He flashed the safe signal, his eyes locking onto yours, daring you to stop him, but you didn’t even consider it. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and in that instant, he seized control completely.

Joel didn’t hold back. His thrusts were relentless, each one harder and deeper than the last, pushing you to the brink of madness with every stroke. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it danced on the edge of pain, each powerful movement driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The mask you wore muffled your moans, but Joel didn’t need to hear them to know how much you were enjoying this—he could feel it in the way your body clung to his, in the way you tightened around him with every thrust, your nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“You forget who you’re fucking with,” Joel snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His words were rough, filled with a dark, commanding energy that sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m not some green kid you can boss around, baby. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know exactly how to make you fucking scream.” The raw authority in his tone was intoxicating, feeding into your desire as he took you to a place where you craved nothing more than to lose control under his relentless dominance.

His words ignited something primal within you, a heady mix of fear and desire that had your heart racing. Before you could respond, he punctuated his declaration with a hard, brutal thrust that tore a cry from your throat, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated inside you, leaving you trembling. The power he wielded over you in that moment was absolute, and though part of you wanted to fight back, to reassert your dominance, the larger part of you was helpless under the force of his will.

Joel’s hands were like iron bands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he took full control, his body a solid, unyielding presence pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, the relentless pace he set—it was all-consuming, overwhelming, leaving you breathless and on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you who was in charge, who had the power, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver down your spine.

Without missing a beat, Joel lifted the mask just enough to expose your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He needed to hear you, to know that every word, every moan, was uninhibited, unfiltered, and raw. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that held a dangerous edge.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear in a way that made your entire body tremble. The command in his voice was undeniable, a rough, primal demand that left no room for hesitation. “Say it, baby. Say my fucking name.”

The sound of his voice, so close, so dominant, sent a surge of desire through you, making it impossible to resist. You could feel the tension building, the pressure of his control wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing out every last ounce of resistance. You knew what he wanted to hear, and as the words formed on your lips, the last remnants of your willpower crumbled.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of words he demanded, but the relentless pressure of his cock, the way he filled you so completely, left you with no choice. The words were ripped from your throat, a desperate, breathless moan. “You,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the strain of it all. “Fuck, Joel, it’s you. All fucking yours.”

The admission seemed to unlock something primal in Joel, an almost feral grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes dark with possessive intensity. “Damn right,” he growled, the words thick with dominance and a promise that sent a shiver straight through you. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. Each thrust became more erratic, more brutal, as he pushed you both to the brink, his body moving with a relentless, desperate rhythm that left you breathless.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he rasped, his voice a low, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body. “Mark you as mine, so you never forget it. So none of them ever forget it.”

It wasn’t just the physical act—Joel loved reminding your viewers and, more importantly, you, exactly who you belonged to, both on and off the camera. His possessiveness was more than just a game; it was a declaration, a brand that he was intent on leaving imprinted on every inch of you. He reveled in the power, in the knowledge that no matter what you showed the world, in the end, you were his. And he wanted everyone to know it—especially you.

His words were the final push you needed, the tipping point that sent you careening over the edge. The coil of tension in your belly tightened impossibly before snapping, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that ripped through your entire being. Your body trembled violently, every muscle tensing as you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the small space between you.

You felt your walls clench around him, milking him as the pleasure tore through you in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. It was overwhelming, an onslaught of sensation so intense it bordered on painful as if every nerve ending had caught fire. Your mind went blank, lost in the haze of ecstasy that consumed you, your vision blurring as your senses overloaded.

But Joel wasn’t done with you. Even as you came, he kept moving, his thrusts relentless, determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from your body. You were oversensitive, every touch, every movement sending shocks of sensation through you, but there was nothing you could do to stop him, no way to slow the onslaught of pleasure-pain that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Look at you,” Joel taunted, his voice a rough whisper as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Thought you were in control, huh? Thought you could make me beg? Well, baby, it’s you who’s begging now.”

He lifted the mask slightly, just enough to hear you more clearly, to see the desperation in your eyes as he continued to drive into you. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for me to cum inside you.”

You could barely form words, your brain fogged by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. But you managed to choke out a reply, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Joel,” you whispered, the desperation in your voice clear. “Fuck, I need you. Please, just… just cum inside me. Fill me up. Please.”

The sound of your pleading pushed Joel over the edge, and with a deep, animalistic growl, he slammed into you one final time. His release was fierce, filling you to the brim, hot and thick, exactly as he promised. It sent you spiraling into another

mind-blowing orgasm, your body locking around him, milking him dry as your walls clenched, squeezing every last drop out of him.

The sound of your pleading seemed to push Joel over the edge. With a low, guttural growl, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as his own orgasm hit, his release hot and overwhelming, filling you up just as he promised. The sensation sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure, your body tightening around him, milking him for every last drop as you both rode out the aftershocks together.

It was damn near unbelievable how many times he'd come-his stamina, his relentless drive. Joel was fifty-fucking-six, and still, he had you unraveling over and over, your own body shaking with pleasure more times than you could count. The heat between you was addictive, his age only adding to the intensity of it. Most men his age couldn't keep up after one round, but Joel? He fucked like a man half his age, like he had something to prove. And every time he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up again and again, it reminded you exactly who the fuck you belonged to.

The world around you ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the primal connection between you, the harsh panting of your breath, the erratic pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. Your bodies were trembling, utterly spent and satisfied beyond words. Joel's weight on top of you was grounding his presence a reminder that this- he-was yours

Finally, he rolled off you, collapsing beside you on the bed, both of you struggling to catch your breath. The mask lay discarded somewhere between you, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction. Joel reached out, pulling you into his arms as you trembled with the aftershocks that still rippled through your body, your muscles twitching with the remnants of pleasure

"Still think you're in charge?" Joel's voice was low, teasing, though his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't have the energy to argue, not after the way he'd fucked you senseless, so you just smiled, curling into his side. Your fingers lazily traced circles on his chest, his skin still warm and slick with sweat. "Maybe we both are," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, savoring the salty taste of his skin, the feeling of him still lingering deep inside you.

Joel chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble that reverberated through his chest. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over the top of your head. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured softly. "But don't you forget, baby-you're mine. Always.”

You sighed, your heart swelling with a mix of satisfaction and love, a contentment that only he could bring you. The thrill of what you'd just shared lingered, the intensity of it making your body hum as you drifted off in his arms. No matter how many games you played, how much you teased each other, you knew you'd always come back to this-back to him

[novemberheart]

{overview} Your heat doesn't quite go as planned. Kate provides your pack with a predicament

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, heat cycles, MDNI, heat cycles, p in v sex, knotting, cursing

Chapter 22 <- Chapter 23 -> Chapter 24

There was a soft knock at the door making John stir.

“Come in,” he groaned, sitting up with you still against his chest. You mumbled something incoherent, drifting right back to sleep. Johnny came in with two takeout containers. John stood up, keeping a firm grip on you as he tossed a few pillows onto the floor, knowing you would throw a fit if your nest got dirtied by food. Johnny set the containers on the ground, grabbing Simon's hoodie off the bed and tugging it over your head.

You were out of it. Just a few hours ago Kyle had come in to make sure the two of you had water and said you were up and chatting, now you were like one of the pillows on the ground. There had been no moans or groans since last night, your first time, making everyone a bit nervous. You should be working through your heat. John threw on a pair of sweats, as Johnny had you propped up against some pillows. You smiled at him softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep. He pressed a kiss against your heated forehead, wanting nothing more than to stay with you.

“You can stay, ‘Tav,” John assured. He didn't seem too out of it. If it wasn't for his dark eyes and flushed appearance he would seem exactly the same. Johnny smiled, pulling you into his lap, and grabbing your lunch to feed you. You purred against him, happy to smell something other than John’s campfire and fog scent.

“Simon wants to call a doctor,” Johnny spoke slowly. John hummed, already knowing what he was speaking about. You should be deep into your heat by now, especially after being sexually active. He should be deep into his rut as well.

“Is a bit concerning isn't it?” John sighed, between bites. “Give her the rest of today. Her body is experiencing a lot of things it hasn't before. Our girl just needs some time to work through it, right pretty?” he questioned looking over at you. Your eyes were nearly closed, staring up at Johnny like you hadn't seen him in months.

“That’s fair,” Johnny agreed, working a spoonful of corn into your mouth. It was quiet for a moment.

“You gonna mark her?” Johnny asked- bordering on a request. It was the thing he hated most about being a beta. He would never be able to see his mark against your skin. At least he would be able to wear yours when the time was right.

“Didn’t quite discuss that too much before. We got a bit heated making out one time and she asked me to do it then. But I want her to have a clear head when she makes that decision,” John explained. His hand reached out, running up and down your leg.

“Would you let her mark you?”

“Absolutely,” John replied without missing a beat.

Kate groaned, trying to balance her coffee and tablet in one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Laswell,” She spoke, using her elbow to push a pile of papers off the edge of her desk.

“Kyle found something,” She immediately recognized Simon’s voice.

“That’s one of the things he’s good at,” Kate shot back, plopping down on the couch in her office.

“It's about our girl.”

Laswell froze.

“What’s wrong? She alright?” She had just talked to you a few days ago. You were nervous about the situation with your heat but were happy otherwise.

“Kyle was looking at her tracking app a couple of days ago when he noticed another chip under her name popping up under the ‘connect’ list. He clicked it and it knew her location and everything,” Simon explained.

“Did it have another name registered to it? Like how you and John are on hers,” Kate asked.

“Negative,” Simon sighed. “Kyle thinks it disconnected from the owner, that's how we were able to find it.”

“You think the owner is going to want to pursue it?” Kate questioned, her stomach beginning to turn.

“Hope they do,” Simon grunted. “It says it’s located in her leg- the chip.”

“The leg?” Kate mumbled. “It couldn't be a chip then. She would’ve felt it. It would have to be a small wire of some kind. Can you put her on the phone?”

“She’s in lockdown with the old man,” it was vague, but Kate knew what he meant. It also explained why John wasn't blowing up her phone right now. They couldn't discuss it with the two of you in such a vulnerable state. “Me and Kyle were thinking about flying back to base,” Simon added.

“You think it's that serious? Maybe she got it when she was little?”

“She would've known about it by now. They aren't meant to be in more than five years. Besides, we can't take any chances. If we don't pursue this and something happens”- Simon cut himself off.

“Look at L.T. Ghost taking care of his pack,” Kate smiled. She couldn't quite tell if the sound on the other end was a purr or static. “Let me dig through some medical files. If there is danger, you all should be there, especially when they are this vulnerable,” Kate reminded. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Laswell. For everything,” He clicked the red button before she could respond.

She had a feeling you were included in that ‘everything.’

It felt like you were watching yourself from behind a glass screen. You could see everything, hear everything, yet you couldn't take control. Forced to watch from the sidelines. John had eased the ache in your body last night, and the feeling had yet to return. Why hadn't it? What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you just be a normal omega? You couldn't even perform in your heat, or help your alpha with his still lingering rut. What good were you?

A loud whine woke him up, his head quickly shooting up from its resting place against your stomach.

“What pretty girl?” John soothed you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. How could he be so nice- so understanding? He should be out looking for a better omega.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, as he swept the tears away.

“Nothin' for you to be sorry about, love,” he assured instantly. He paused for a moment. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked softly. You hadn't done anything but be a perfect little omega for him, despite the fuzziness in your brain.

“I can’t,” was all you were able to get out, sobs wracking your body.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” he cursed softly. “No reason for that,” he used the hem of his shirt to wipe away your tears.

“I’m not a good omega,” you gasped through your sobs. A warning growl rumbled in his chest, making you jump. It was a natural instinct to bare your teeth at someone who talked b about your omega- even if it was the omega themselves.

“There’s definitely no reason for that,” he snarled, pressing a rough kiss against your cheek. He slowly put the pieces together as to what you were getting at. He didn't even think the toll of not completing your heat would have on your self-esteem. That was bullshit though. You were much more than how well you could fuck him in a delirious state and he was a bit surprised you even entertained the idea. His sensitive girl.

“If I can't get into a heat how am I supposed to take a knot, or be marked?” you grumbled sadly, finding the energy to paw at your face.

“You can get into a heat, pretty. Your body is still adjusting to the pack and to me. By this time next year we’ll be laughing about this.”

Next year? He wanted to keep you?

“You still want me?” It was the lowest sentence you had ever uttered, yet it was a blow to him.

His first feeling was that of insult. Did you think that lowly of him? That he would toss you to the curb just because you were having a bit of trouble? Then he saw the look in your eyes. You were so small- beat down and defeated over something he had hardly thought twice about. You weren't the you he was used to, you were the raw, unfiltered, scared version of yourself. The version that had jumped from omega holding house to omega holding house. The version of you that had been let down by so many people in your life. The version of you that had been overlooked and disregarded due to your status.

Now that version of you was his.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

“More than anything,” was all he could manage.

You were relieved when the fire returned in your veins. Your hands patting your alpha’s chest to wake him. He gasped awake, his trained eyes scanning around the room for a threat, relaxing when he just saw your happy face. He smiled softly until your scent hit him.

“There you are, pretty girl. Just needed some time,” He chuckled, rolling over so you were on your back. You nipped at his neck, your hands wandering under his shirt. He lets you do as you please, without rushing or urging you along. The soft pads of your fingers running over scars he had long forgotten about.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way. He smiled softly, his beard tickling your cheek as he kissed along your clothed shoulder. The bare skin of your legs against his wasn't enough for him. He tugged Simon’s hoodie off of you, purring as he was finally able to feel you fully.

This time he went slow- as slow as he should've gone for your first time. He was drawing it out, with every drag of his hips you were pushed near the end only to be yanked back. You were a desperate little thing under him. So needy and scratchy that he had to put you on your stomach.

“Only patient girls get kisses,” is what he had told you. You whined, leaning your head back, hoping he was just being a tease. His hand gripped the base of your neck, gently pushing it back into the pillows. He chuckled- a bit cruelly- from behind you, a particularly deep thrust making you cry out.

“Please?” you whined, your bottom lifting off the bed so prettily for him. He hummed, running a hand all the way up your arched back. He leaned over you, his lips pressing against your wet cheek.

“I think the betas spoil you too much,” he mumbled, his hips returning to the slow speed. “Think all you have to do is say please with those pretty eyes and you get whatever you want hmmm?” he half-asked, keeping himself sheathed inside you.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, making him chuckle. He kissed the small ring on your finger Kyle had bought you. The beta was just supposed to run to the store to get popcorn for movie night and ended up coming back with a ring that cost half a paycheck.

You wiggled your hips, taking it upon yourself to start pushing yourself back on him. He watched as you slowly found your own rhythm. He cursed softly, watching as your cunt swallowed him whole. He gave you soft encouragement, the grit in his voice making the tightness in your stomach swell.

“Can I?” you asked through a strangle moan. Even after all his teasing, you were still his obedient omega. His chest rumbled, causing the vibration to shoot straight through you.

“Course, sweetheart. You earned it,” he praised. That was all you needed, shaking around his cock with a breathy moan. He held your hips in place to keep you from running away, your spasming walls causing his eyes to roll back.

He had hardly a minute to catch his breath before you were pushing yourself back against him again.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growled, immediately meeting your thrusts. He wrapped an arm around your waist, rolling over onto his back taking you with him. He forced your legs apart, your back against his chest as he drove his hips up into you. The new position hit something inside you that turned you into a purring ragdoll. “Purring from my cock?” he questioned through a groan like he couldn't quite believe it. His hands had a bruising grip on your thighs, the force of his thrusts nothing but mean.

There was swelling between his thighs, and even in his dazed state he could figure out what it was. You seemed to know too- at least instinctually, judging by the way you tried to push yourself down on it. “Think you can take my knot, pretty girl?” he asked softly, his pace beginning to slow so you could talk. You nodded your head eagerly, your face pressing against the side of this neck.

He resumed, his knot slamming against you with every thrust. You came unexpectedly, your cunt gushing around him and over the sheets. You were shaking in his grasp and he began rolling his knot into you, your slick making it a bit easier. Your hips tried to pull away, but he knew it was just from overstimulation. He matched your purrs, the action causing your body to relax enough for him to ease the rest of himself in. Your body stilled as the two of you locked together, John groaning breathlessly.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, a warm buzz filtering throughout your body.

Your world slowly turned black.

Two days had come and gone. Today marks the fourth day of your heat.

Judging by your smell. Today is the last day. You were in the bathtub, the water too scalding for John’s enjoyment, but your sore body needed it. The alpha taking great pride in scrubbing and massaging you clean.

You hadn't been marked. John had come close numerous times, but was able to hold back. He couldn't do something that drastic without discussing it with you in length. Despite that, you had a large spot on your neck- where he planned to mark you. He couldn't stop running his thumb over it.

“Gonna be ready to see the boys?” He hummed, his fingers scratching against your scalp. You knew he was referring to Simon. Johnny and Kyle snuck in during the pockets of peace between rounds. Johnny to give you food and Kyle just to hold you.

You had missed Simon. When you were feeling extra sensitive just knowing he was outside the door made you feel a hundred times better. You nodded, as he washed the shampoo out of your hair.

“I miss him,” You smiled.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder - especially with Simon,” he teased, making you giggle.

You put on fresh clothes, grabbing Vernie off the bed. The bed was in rough shape. John came up behind you.

“Don’t worry about that,” he insisted, pressing a kiss against the side of your head. The sheets had been shredded, the headboard practically crushed to bits and you could only imagine what it would look like under a black light. While you were only half of the reason it was in the condition it was, you still felt responsible.

“Go say hello to your boys. They miss you,” John smiled, throwing on a shirt. You beamed, practically bouncing down the hallway. They were still asleep sprawled out on the pull out couch in the living room to keep Simon company. You put Vernie down and she quickly stumbled her way over to Simon. You crawled over Kyle, curling yourself under his chin. He gasped awake, causing the others to jump.

“Still in one piece?” He mumbled, still playful even in his groggy state. He rolled over so you were under him- a position you had grown quite familiar with the past few days- resting his body on top of yours. You could hear Johnny mumble something, scrambling across Simon so he could get his paws on you. He growled as Kyle refused to move, worming his arm between the two of you and pulling you so you were smushed between them. “Can’t even get a minute?” Kyle huffed, burying his face in your hair.

“Her fault for being so pretty,” Johnny grumbled, placing the blame on you. His teeth nipping at the spots covering your neck from John. He swallowed back his disappointment at none of them being a claiming bite. The comfort of being between the betas again made it easy for you to start drifting back off to sleep. You had about five minutes of sleep when Kyle’s phone blared through the living room. You half expected him to deny it, like he usually did. Instead, he peaked at the Caller ID quickly making his way to the backyard, Simon following. You could sense Johnny’s uneasiness.

“Everything alright?” you hummed. The worst thing in your mind is that you would all have to leave and go back to base. You were due to go back in a few days, hopefully things could wait until then.

“Yeah, Bon,” Johnny assured, forcing himself to purr to relax you. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

Regardless you watched as John made his way down the hall about to turn into the living room, until he was ushered outside by Simon. You had the sinking feeling it wasn’t about work. Was it because of your heat? Because of how hot and cold it was? Because it didn’t last as long as it should’ve? Because you weren’t marked? Why didn’t he mark you? What if they were calling someone to come pick you up now? What if-

“None of that,” Johnny spoke, making you jump. He ran a hand over your stomach. You whined, rolling over so you could hide in his chest. “What happened?” he hummed, wrapping you up in the blankets. It smelled like your pack. Cinnamon and leather- with a gust of fresh breeze to cut the heaviness.

“It’s about me isn’t it?” You whispered. Johnny tensing was enough to confirm your suspicions. He should’ve known your omega intuition would uncover the truth before any of them were ready to share it.

“It's about work, peaches,” he stood his ground. He couldn't give up any information yet, till they knew the full story.

-outside-

“Hey, Laswell,” Kyle greeted with a sigh. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had always been a man of action- so being told to let someone else take the reigns was causing him distress.

“Well, I figured out who it belongs to,” She sighed, equally hard. Kyle and Simon looked at each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John moving towards the living room.

“We need you out here,” he whispered. The alpha furrowed his brows, changing his course to the backyard.

“Her mother,” Laswell said finally. Kyle sucked in a breath through his teeth. John was confused but remained tight-lipped.

“She’s looking for her?” Kyle pressed.

“I don't see any signs of wanting to have contact with her,” Kate said sadly. “Just seems like she was trying to keep an eye out for her,” Kate suggested.

“Do you have her location?” Kyle questioned.

“Her last known location is Palm Springs, California. That was over two years ago and she's not living at that address anymore,” Kate continued. “She isn't registered anywhere else in the U.S. There's no death certificate either. Another thing is the type of chip she used. It lasts about 7-10 years before it gets broken down and absorbed into the bloodstream. It’s nearing the end of its life, that's why it disconnected,” Kate explained.

They felt relieved. You weren't being tracked by some psycho who had it out for you. It was just a last-ditch effort by your mom to be a part of your life.

“Thank you, Laswell,” Kyle breathed.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your vacation- oh and John make sure to ice your back. I know it’s sore,” She teased, the call ending. They chuckled dryly, waiting for someone to speak.

“Her mother chipped her before she left?” John clarified, causing them to nod their heads.

“How do we tell her?” Kyle asked.

“We don't,” John said quickly. The two men stared at their alpha. “What are we supposed to say? Your mother chipped you, but doesn't want to reconnect with you? She knows about how you've been thrown around from omega-holding house to omega-holding house, yet she has done nothing to stop it. She's our omega, it's our job to protect her from information like that. Besides, I'm not sure I want her mother around her anyway. Who’s to say she won’t break her heart again?”

No one could oppose. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! See you in three days for Chapter 24🧡