#four keys au
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im really glad you like skhadu! it does have a tag, "four keys". im gonna be real I have a lot of drafts for the au for other characters like green and vio, and a lot of plot and character arcs figured out, I just 0-0
im gonna be honest im not used to posting stuff so maybe if I got more pressure I'd post more? (this is ur sign to bully me into sharing more lore)
so far I've got buwe and flicker out tho (blue and red)
^v^ hope this helps!
indigos-stardust <3
*vibrating excitedly*
You have NO idea how delighted this makes me, now I get to track down the other pieces when I have a spare moment!!!
Aaaaaaaaaaa I can't wait!!
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Flicker
Hundreds of years ago the fire moth people, or Nari'shi, lived on volcanic Islands to the South. Unfortunately, there was a catastrophic period of forest fires in the nearby lands that spread from the wild, to crops, and finally villages.
The Nari'shi contain the ability to generate enough heat to create flames. This is because they naturally have a sixth sense to read energy through their antennae and have a much higher resistance to the natural heat from the volcano's they live nearby and depend on. Due to these factors, they can use their own stores of energy and release that through the friction their thick fur creates in fast movement. They even had group dances that would create sparks from the fast movements and touches.
However, that ability to create flame is why they were blamed for the tragedies that continued, even if they was no real evidence they had done those things. Due to complicated politics of the time, including the greed and power tactics of many leaders, they were used as scapegoats for not just the fires but many other things.
During their season of Dormancy And Rest, or Winter, many attacks were made against them using cruel techniques. IN the end their rule was dismantled and they were forced to pay for "retributions." Having no home and no wealth, they agreed to contracts that essentially trapped them and their families in generations of forced labor, abusive surveillance, and working conditions that violated many human rights.
Most work in the Fire Works, where their energy is used either to forge weapons with their fire or create magical energy capsules for a variety of purposes. It's a grim and gruesome reality. Schooling and any method for empowerment or escape from that lifestyle are banned using racist ideas to back it up.
Red, or rather Flicker in this au, worked and lived in those horrible conditions. One day, an older man who had taken care of him, was being yelled at by one of the surveyors. He was too slow. It didn't matter that he was overworked, exhausted, and slowed down by the years of intense labor. He'd be punished for his slowness anyways. Most of the time, the only reason it happened was just to make an example.
At a certain point, everyone reaches a limit. Even though it was stupid, and the elder man begged him not too, Flicker tried to defend him. Tried to make an excuse or aid him in some way, to make the pain less. Things only escalated unfortunately. Then other people were roped into it. More serious threats were made.
Flicker, well, he ended up determined to defend him. And with his own temper his own flame flared up. So hot it broke his own restraints. Apparently, he was "gifted" with a strong fire. People like that were sent down to the Tartarus Plant. No one ever came back from there. No one that ever went there saw the sky again. The beautiful sun would be a dead memory.
So he ran. Sure, it was a rather explosive escape. Sure, if he was caught he'd face a fate worse than death itself. Maybe he accidentally did cause several fires because of the adrenaline and lack of restraint paired with this "gift" (more like a curse.) Miraculously he manages to escape on a raft. Or well, he would've been shot down if Flicker did that. The Island was full of guards.
It's more accurate that they thought he died and then he thought he died when the small boat exploded around him. Flicker wasn't exactly sure what happened. A selkie folk, who knew the ocean and its depths, wouldv've realized that he'd been dragged off by a vicious rip current. And managed to survive purely because he was entangled in a boyyant piece of the small boat he stole.
As for the whole "drowning" issue? No clue on that, for all anyone would ever guess is that either some guardian spirit was watching over him or maybe he just was so near death and hot that he just created an air bubble from all the water he was heating up. Who knows honestly.
Of course, when he washed up in some small cave on the cliff side of some foreign land, he had to admit he was relieved. Sure, there was no way out due to the tides that blocked the exit of the cave. Perhaps, he'd never leave this place and he'd just starve inside, it wasn't like he could swim. Honestly, it was better than whatever fate was awaiting him at the Fire Works.
But then he noticed a frozen chunk of ice near the corner of the cave. At first, he thought it was a strange rock, he'd never seen ice before. There was even clams growing around it as well. He felt droplets melt as he touched it. While he observed the strange thing, he noticed a strange shape inside. So, he melted through it. And then...
A MEAL- Okay, it was probably some dead disease infested animal that died some unfortunate death- But cmon! It PROBABLY wouldn't kill him and honestly- Maybe he could make this work! He'd get enough energy from eating that weird freaky looking animal and maybe he'd learn how to fish! He could just- Drink the water dripping from the stalactites above! He'd survive!!
Well, that's what he thought before he was about to try to cook the dead thawed thing and then it suddenly opened its eyes and shrieked and bit him. Oh, and then it turned into a whole freaking man with weird white hair and crap.
Then the guy started screaming more! Sure, maybe it was because Flicker was screaming too- But in his defense he didn't expect his dead meal to just BECOME A RANDOM GUY?
Things calmed down and they established that they didn't want to kill each other. Then they both demanded what the hell was up with the other dude in the cave. Apparently "Buwe" was trapped in ice or cursed or something. He seemed strangely concerned for Flicker though, Flicker couldn't really understand why.
After a bit of peace and making up for the "accidentally trying to eat/bite you" scenario with some fish that Buwe had caught they chatted some more. Buwe was determined to take Flicker home with him. But the more Buwe talked.. Yeah, Flicker wasn't exactly schooled, but he started to realize everything this guy was describing.. From money and the state of the kingdoms and whatever else? He sounded like he was alive when the Nari'shi were free.
So, they started to put together that Buwe's entire family and tribe were probably dead because apparently he'd been frozen in ice for over two hundred years.
Buwe, brilliant man that he is, decides he's going to cope by adopting Flicker. Flicker, who doesn't want to die and is appreciative of this strange man who has provided food and protection find's himself accepting this agreement. Even though he's literally an adult but apparently, "Smol brother is smol brother" was enough reasoning for Buwe so this was just his life now.
They tried to go back to Buwe's old village, but after seeing the way the grief absolutely wrecked Buwe, Flicker encouraged them to find a new life elsewhere together. Buwe agreed and they set off.
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Redesigned my pony sona :)
Creature Feature, usually called just Creed, is a pretty laid-back unicorn who lives on the edges of town. His special talent is archeology and anthropology and he usually spends his time digging up and displaying artifacts. He lets people come and look at them for free (I imagine he has a lot of respect for other cultures so he doesn’t display anything belonging to anyone else. He also doesn’t touch anything resembling graves :)
His magic is relatively below average but he mainly only needs it to hold tools, books, or a bong. He also keeps his tail tied up and out of the way and he also uses it as a brush to gently brush away dirt or dust. He also just really likes worms.
He comes from unicorn parents but his dad’s side has earth pony genes, giving Creed his more bulky, earth pony body type. He’s pretty strong and can put up a good fight if he needs to!
And here’s Oliver and Ryder as ponies, just for fun! :) they had designs a while back (not sure if I shared those here?) but they were really ugly. I like these ones much better!
Early Riser, also known as Prince Riser, is the alicorn prince of springtime and youth. He embodies the spirit of being young, carefree, and spending everyday seizing opportunity and being happy. Born a Pegasus with two sets of wings, he has never been able to fly. He was born into a royal, well-off family of incredible fliers. Early on in his life, Riser was greatly disheartened by his inability to fly with the other foals his age. That is until he found a mysterious egg in the woods! After earning his horn and becoming a prince alicorn, Riser spends his days with his brother and bodyguard Iver Inkwell, finding new ways to capture the spirit of youth and inspire ponies and creatures of all ages to enjoy every sunny and rainy day!
Iver Inkwell is an unusual sight. He is a mix between a Pegasus pony and griffin. His parents unknown, he was discovered as an egg by a little Early Riser and taken back to the wealthy colt’s family. From there, he hatched and his new family adopted him as one of their own. Iver was also only born with one right wing, rendering him flightless. As an adult, he is now, officially the bodyguard and adopted brother Prince Riser and stays by his side almost 24/7 (though, he would’ve probably done that anyway). He’s also a poet and writes angsty poems at night. Iver is a bit of the pessimistic side and often seems to appear as Prince Riser’s mysterious, shadowy bodyguard. But get talking to him and it turns out he’s just autistic and usually prefers to listen until he feels he has something he must say. He doesn’t like to make idle chatter, but he’ll listen to others ramble for hours.
They are brothers and they are flightless and they are best friends forever :)
#crowwfed#art#fantasy#original character#oc#mythical creatures#harvesters#digital art#mlp#mlp au#mlp designs#pony#hippogriff#hippogryph#griffin#gryphon#alicorn#four winged alicorn because I wanted to make Ryder a Mary sue because they are fun!!!!!#low key I think I made prince riser’s cutie mark look like the logo for like an all natural brand of chicken like lovely hills chicken farm
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Cursed!
#ajin#Ajin au#Ajin rpg au#rpg au#Ajin cat and dog au#Kei cat#my art#it’s messy ik shut up I wanted to do this all in four hours so..
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I know that I’ve been dead for like eight months and there’s absolutely no precursor to this on my blog but,,
I can’t stop thinking about the whole “Plagg replaces Adrien’s arm” possibility for the All Left AU, and more specifically the fact that it wouldn’t be safe for Adrien to hold food in that arm bc it would mysteriously go missing.
#am i wrong#no#no I am not#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#mlb#adrien agreste#chat noir#plagg#headcanons#adrien agreste headcanons#chat noir headcanons#plagg headcanons#like I’d like to think he’d be trying to knead dough#and suddenly he’d only be able to make four loaves as opposed to the regular six#and he’d sit there wondering if he measured something incorrectly#or his sandwiches would seem a lot smaller than usual#and one day he can’t find his keys which happened to have a pickle charm on them#coincidentally plagg happens to develop a stomach ache over the next 24hrs#all left au
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#ghosts us#cbs ghosts#starkid#hatchetfield#foster siblings at woodstone au#personal fanart#fanfiction#key art#May do a variant with the other four core ghosts
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11. For any characters bcs i have yet to learn about any of em :3
*Rubs my little gremlin hands together*
11. Biggest fear: (click on names to see image references!)
(Under the cut b/c long)
SD-I: SD-I’s biggest fear is loosing control of their own body. Not in a metaphorical sense, in a literal sense. Kei constantly pushes their buttons, attempting to get them to let their guard down, because the two of them are quite litteraly stuck together. It’s a constant fight to see who gets control and while there are lulls in the fights, it’s always a constant fear in SD-I’s mind.
Kei: (Image is of drone form for funsies but ‘true’ form will always be SD-I’s tail) Kei’s biggest fear isn’t being trapped (despite being part of SD-I), it’s the fear of not existing. They ultimately wish to gain ‘control’ so they don’t have to worry about being killed, wanting to be freed from just one drone, to being able to exist in multiple. (Solver host situation ish) They are confined specifically to SD-I’s core and therefore making them susceptible to anything that happens to SD-I. While they can alter SD-I whenever SD-I looses ‘control’, it only goes so far. So they wish to be free to be able to not get locked into a single specific drone.
Ssam: Ssam’s biggest fear at it’s core is also being controlled. There’s a lot more nuances to it of course. She wishes to be in control of her own life and own will, being a DD and knowing that she was made for a single purpose with no self control was something she was terrified of. She did eventually get free of the AS control (only to sign a deal with another devil) but the fear remains there. After all, fears don’t have to be rational :3
Ssara: Ssara’s biggest fear is the fear of being abandoned. It’s happened many times in the past, and it still scares her. As such she can form unhealthy and codependent relations with others (all kinds). Which also makes the fear of being abandoned that much worse. After all who wants to hang around a broken drone? : 3
#My ocs#my oc#answered ask#inky lore#Oc lore#I have more but these are the four that have been recently cycling through my brain#And scelene#but scelene’s fear is a bit too specific#Also leaving out au/story ocs for later#B/c spoilers ish?#SD-I#Kei#Ssam#Ssara
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Four: If it bites you and you die, it's venomous. If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous.
Mask: What if it bites me and it dies?
Wind: That means you're poisonous. Sweet Hylia, Mask, learn to listen.
Hyrule: What if it bites itself and I die?
Paint: That's voodoo.
Future: What if it bites me and someone else dies?
Legend: That's correlation, not causation.
Sky: What if we bite each other and neither of us die?
Shadow, appearing behind him: (that's kinky)
Four: ...I'm done.
#linked keys#lk#loz au#not lu#lk four#lk mask#lk wind#lk paint#lk legend#lk future#lk Hyrule#lk sky#lk shadow#incorrect lk quotes#mod kj#its 10pm and I thought that was funny
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very rough thumbnail painting of the first setting in Ashes. the mental image of this has lived rent free in my head ever since i wrote the scene
#ray's tag#ashes au#keys' art#thank you youtube four minute long landscape painting tutorial and free use photo of a dune
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“Let’s review: Rory’s been living with her mom for over a year, Jess can’t keep a girlfriend to save his life, I’ve all but lost my husband and kids, and now Lane is divorcing Zack,” Paris declared. “Sounds about right,” Rory yelped as the four sank further into the bench. Lane muttered in exasperation: “Where’s Miss Patty’s Founders Day punch when you need it.”
Shiny Happy People: An Underdog Quartet Reunion AU
(Raw images: not mine)
#I'm back (ish)#if I ever were to write a post-ayitl AU this might just be how it would start#all four of these people have their quarter life crisis in their thirties#or early midlife crisis you decide#and the key to success is the friends we made along the way#because when is it ever anything else in my AUs#and obviously this board takes place during some Stars Hollow spring event that Rory invited Paris to#underdog quartet#underdog quartet au#rory x lane x jess x paris#gilmore girls moodboard#gilmore girls au#my moodboards#my AUs#gilmore girls#rory gilmore#jess mariano#lane kim#paris geller#cw alcohol
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Mathias: I may have a small theory.*looks at Wukong*
“…?”
#lego monkie kid#lmk au#lmk season four#lmk swk#lmk sun wukong#also Wukong’s wearing a golden key which he should’ve taken off as it was part of his ‘King Midas’ attire.
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Sweetener - C.K.
Synopsis. You, hit by your heat cycle and accidentally calling your best friend over in a daze. Choso Kamo, your utterly sweet best friend - and totally not an aIpha, right? Right?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Choso, heats, best-friends-to-lovers, pining, creampíes, bréeding, Choso goes FÉRAL, OMÉGAVERSE AU, overstím, knots, MARATHONS, making him cúm blanks, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, first times (Choso), pússydrúnk Choso, oraI (fem), proposals, p talking, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.1k
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
“Open up f’me, beautiful.”
Choso Kamo was approximately four seconds away from kicking down your front door and tearing your apartment down in search of you. Or, at least, he would be if he didn’t know how much you’d huff at him afterwards.
Because it’s not everyday that his precious best friend wakes him up at 3AM with a hazy, six-second call. Mumbling nothing but an adorably sleepy “Cho— come over?”
So what if Choso had instantly thrown on the first t-shirt he saw and broken about seven traffic violations on his motorbike here?
“Come on, come on-” he’s hissing underneath his breath. Weight shuffling nervously between his two feet, he raps on your door once more. Twice. Thrice. “D-don’t make me use that spare key again.”
It was a half-threat - really, it was.
But the louder your answering silence grew, the tighter his fingers curled around his own metallic key. Breathing out a low, “I’m- I’m coming in.” And slowly - ever-so-slowly - he’s cracking your door just an inch open before-
Oh.
Oh.
It hits Choso like a wave - hard enough to knock him down onto his knees.
“What-” he’s gasping, heaving. Words tumbling out drunkenly in rasping ahs! that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even register the bright, blossoming pain sweeping his knees with the way his lungs felt like they were scorching - and Choso just couldn’t get enough.
It wasn’t a new candle of yours, and Choso already memorized every one of your perfumes for this to be one. This was just so…carnally sweet.
He was drinking in every drop, every ounce, every waft of that candied air inside your cozy apartment like he couldn’t breathe if it wasn’t that.
And something in the sugary scent makes Choso twitch.
Oh, shit.
Hastily swiping away a translucent mess of drool that’d somehow made its home by the rosy corner of his mouth, he’s straining out once more. For his sanity, more than anything. “Beautiful? Anyone home?”
Still no answer.
Absolutely nothing.
It takes him a few more sloppy seconds swimming his melty mind to even consider stumbling back up onto his two unsteady feet. Blinking away the bleary film over his gaze, Choso slams! your door shut with the back of his foot - cutting off the heady perfume from emanating into the corridor.
Noise complaints from your neighbors be damned - he’ll apologize to them all personally later.
But right now, something about the way that mysterious essence was all his, his, his scratched at such a dangerously primal itch in his brain.
Shit- what was he even thinking?
Choso was here for you and only you.
He’s running a jittery few digits through the sweat-dampened valleys of his hair, tugging in a stinging little pull to try and snap some sense back into him. Clearing the strangled mess in his throat, Choso smacks! his palms against his burning cheeks before calling out once more, “I’ll be coming in–”
Because it’s not as if Choso’s never been in here before - he has. Many, many times, in fact. And during every one of those hangouts you’d made it a point to pout about how he should really “let loose” and treat this home as if it was his own, too.
Honestly, it was hard to feel anything but comfortable after knowing each other for so long - even despite those embarrassing, mushy feelings that he always drowned in around you.
But that was a conversation for another time.
And right now, Choso couldn’t even dream of any “comfort” when every step deeper into the saturated cloud of scent made Choso gulp. Every blink had his eyes watering even more - and his pants- fuck- Choso’s biting down on his rawly worried lower lip, eyes flickering anywhere but where he could feel his achy cock stirring.
Something about this smell was so…hypnotic.
And if he didn’t know any better then he’d have sworn he was practically floating down that familiar pathway to your bedroom. Feet padding down anxiously along the mahogany-covered floors, it was becoming so much harder and harder to breathe in the fragrant air without getting fucking addicted.
Or, Choso swallows, one arm balanced on the wall, the other feeling for his thundering pulse. He probably already was.
But what if you were sick? What if you needed help? Fuck, if he didn’t live every waking moment dancing along to your heartbeat.
That is, when he hears it. That.
Filtering from inside your bedroom…a moan. ”Ch-Choso–”
.
.
.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
You didn’t know what you were thinking, forgetting to take your monthly dosage of suppressants - you’d blame it on all the time you’d been spending studying for finals with Choso lately, but you’d never put the fault on your sweet best friend like that.
After all, he was a fellow omega like you at the end of the day. Right?
“Fuck��� You’re scrambling to clasp onto a sodden sweatshirt of his on your bed, nose burying into the slightly sunny vanilla scent. You knew it was wrong to think about him this way, you knew it was made even worse considering his second gender. But- but fuck, if he didn’t have your hands slipping and sliding guiltily down towards the slick-lathered spot between your legs. Concentrated puffs of heat stifling from between your lips, “Ch-Choso–”
Honestly, you wanted him so badly you could reach over for your phone and call-
No, no, no, no - your fatigued eyes flick over to the winking clock by your bedside. 3:26AM.
You couldn’t call him over for help now. Choso was so sweet that he’d probably rush over in his pajamas and rack up a fair few tickets on his motorbike.
Which was why you preferred to spend your heats without his help - it had been that way since you’d both presented back in high school.
You’d met Choso after your family had moved to the cutest little suburb in Tokyo, stumbling across the tiny boy-next-door with wide honeypool eyes and a chubby hand that waved shyly your way. Even at the wise old age of eight, you remember thinking how he was so pretty.
Pretty enough that something your health teacher had taught in your last school clanged throughout your mind - this boy was probably an ah…what was the word? Omega.
A quiet, comfortable understanding - and it wasn’t something that the two of you never quite had to talk about too in-depth. At least, outside of sneaking the answers to pop quizzes on secondary genders, and giggling when another classmate sauntered to school with a garish bitemark on their neck.
But, often, you wondered whether you’d ever see Choso with that type of mark.
He never looked at another alpha - not even another omega, or beta, for that matter. You knew that society was stepping towards a more accepting environment for rather “unconventional” pairings - but Choso Kamo seemed well and firmly intent on rejecting every single one of them.
Instead, staying by your side. Unpaired.
Even when he followed you all the way to university - two peas in a pod, so tightly intertwined that most wondered whether you two were mated for life. And he never bothered to disagree - but then again, neither did you.
Even when the years treated him well and he grew so tall, so unfairly attractive. All prettily timid smiles, glinting piercings marrying his ears, and dark, droopy eyes tinged with the slightest kiss of dark eyeliner. Rivalling even the most cocky alphas on your entire campus with his sheer stature and ambience.
Like he was right now.
Towering at the very edge of your unlatched bedroom door.
And only one word registers in your mind - alpha.
Choso - a Choso that was so utterly real and in the flesh - jumps once those startled syllables spill from your mouth.
Fuck, you didn’t even realize you said that out loud.
Not until he’s slamming! one massively spayed-out palm by the side of your doorframe. Shattered pieces of wood crumbling beneath him, you’re unabashedly ogling the flex of his curvaceous biceps. Another hand covering the lower half of his handsome face, Choso rasps. He whines, “You called, m-my omega?”
Oh.
Your entire shivering body bolts upright, like you were being electrified with a thousand voltages of bliss that make your drooling cunt gush. Treacly wafts of pheromones clouding out from you all over again - and the look on Choso’s face is just drunk.
Thick lids so heavy that they were practically falling half-closed, it’s as if his entire body was flushed a prespired red. Lips all ruddied and laminated thinly with spit, his teeth were drawn back into such a wild snarl.
Like he was about to tear something into bits and it might be you.
So…pretty.
It almost hurts you to dart your eyes away in an urgent glance at your suspiciously open call log - did you…really call him in your haze? Fuck.
“Y-you’re-” You swallow a few times - and even then, the words don’t come to you. They can’t. Too stuck on what a delicacy your best friend looked all slumped over by your doorway like he was begging for you. Like he’d crawled all his way to you and would do it all over again. “You’re an alpha, Cho?”
As if you had any doubt now. You could smell the sheer power on him, the thrumming strength threatening to rip through that clingy white undershirt of his. So transparently thin that you could still count every ridge of his washboard abs. And his velvety black boxers hung low-
“Shit-” he gulps. “Yes- fuck! Y-you’re an omega?”
You can only nod. Brows raising when Choso plants another slam right onto your doorframe, indenting all slender lanes of his digits onto it this time. “And is that…mine?”
With a sudden inhalation, you’re snatching behind that sweatshirt of Choso’s that you’d still been holding. Heart thumping - but there was nothing more to say. What could you say?
Turns out, Choso is the first to break. “L-Let me prove it.”
You’re blinking, squeezing your thighs together at the bittersweet throb. You didn’t know what had your honeyed head reeling more - the sudden reveal of Choso’s secondary gender, or his answer. His sheer need. “Prove it?”
Choso’s head hangs low, chestnut bangs covering his greedy gaze, but you could tell that he was looking at you. Really, really looking at you.
Words dripping with something you’d never heard of before. Hoarse. Tight. “Can I…can I come in, beautiful?”
You know you should say no to letting him inside your nest - you know it.
But oh, how it looked like it was taking him every shred of will to keep standing there. To not fucking collapse at the way your gooey pheromones have him spellbound. And he likely would have had it not been for your small, trembling answer, “Yes.”
Choso whimpers - if there was ever a singular moment that would have him crawling back from the afterlife just to re-experience all over again, then it would be this.
When he feels something in the back of his mind switch.
Senses sharpening almost painfully with one step inside your humid bedroom. Two.
Until Choso’s stalking so languidly towards you like a predator cornering his prey, foot by foot. He takes his dreamy time prowling towards you - all the way up until your flushed best friend is looming across the foot of the bed.
There’s something vicious in his eyes. Something that has him salivating, “Can- can I?”
You’re breathing out, “Y-yes.”
Slow, sultry fingers unfurl out to draw a steady line along your ankle - he walks. Fingers blazing up your twitchy thighs, up your drenched excuse of shorts, up, up, up to smear that delirious line of your dribble.
“T-tell me what you want, beautiful.” He pecks an innocent kiss on your forehead, then another to your throat - heaving in your perfumed air. “Anything- I’ll give ya hah- anything.”
His words are low. Hot against your face.
And just about the only thing you can do is slither your unsteady hands down to toy with the hem of your pants. A sight that makes Choso swallow thickly with a rasping grunt.
“I want you to…” you’re trailing off. Fingers dipping down to where you haven’t been able to satisfy for hours now. Your inner omega yelling - screaming that nothing was enough, but he might just be. “-touch me here, Cho.”
SWAT!
Instantly, you’re letting off a saccharine mewl at the way your hand is being oh-so-rudely thwacked away by one of Choso’s own. The slight sting throbbing - but not as much as your poor cunt is when meeting his digits.
Sliding just between your cottony shorts- oh? Choso’s heart stutters. No panties? You really are going to be the death of him. He’s lingering a dewy stroke down your teary slit, honeying his ringed fingers in all your slick juices.
For a second - just a second.
Lightning-fast, Choso’s trailing away with a slew of spatters left behind, and it makes his skin feel ten times hotter. Ten times dirtier in only the best way.
Even more so when those very digits end up slipping easily into Choso’s mouth. One by one. Eyes trained darkly on yours, his long pinkish tongue ends up lazily lathering up and down up and down up and down every beaded gleam of your juices.
“Y-you’re so-” your voice cracks embarrassingly - pathetically, in a way that makes every copious ounce of blood in his body sprint south. “-filthy.”
Pulling off with a waterlogged pop! Choso’s tongue probes between his two long fingers, smacking his lips open and shut with the sticky dredges. And you swear you catch a whiff of smugness in his scent. Yet, he’s blushing, “All for you- only for you, my girl.”
And you can’t even complain - you can’t even tease him about the way that just another mere touch up against your feverish pussypound has Choso gasping. Eyes crinkling with something like delight and sheer awe.
Because he’s crashing his mouth into yours, suckling on your lips like his favorite berry lolly-
“Sh-shit-” Choso’s rich tone cracks into shattering lilts, and you can hear him laugh against your lips. Laugh. Humorless and crazed - pure desperation bleeding out with every swash of his intoxicating vanilla scent. “Beautiful— you taste even sweeter than in my ngh- dreams, y’know that?”
No, you didn’t - you didn’t even know that Choso dreamed of you in the first place.
And you don’t get to pay it any mind because before you know it, the swirling edge of his rounded fingertips tuck just past where your puffy folds were pursing in a ready pucker. Cold metal rings making you gasp.
And Choso’s greedily snuffing out the sound with a sinking bite of his sharpened canines into your wobbly bottom lip. Drinking in every noise from his pretty girl. His pretty girl.
Cratering dimples notching prettily at the ends of his lipbite, he’s practically begging them out with every slow gyration of his fingertips around and around your peaked clit. Tracing over every tiny ridge and sensitive bundle like he was trying to fucking memorize it. “H-has any other- fuck-” Ringing out a thundering growl at the back of his throat that makes your skin coat in tiny goosebumps. “-has any- other- made you feel this good?”
No no no - your inner omega purrs, and you can practically feel yourself groaning lowly at the back of your throat when you pull away.
Trying - failing, when Choso’s chasing your kiss-bitten lips like he was hooked. Slurring after the syrupy strings of spit that smear the traces of your mouth, he’s meshing his lips in a dramatic smooch. Again. And again. And again and again-
“L-look how wet ya are…” And it wasn’t even a command, but you can’t help lolling your head down to blink at the way his pale wrist was glistening with all your laminated juices. Musing, “Gonna make ya feel so fuckin’ good. So good.”
Two deft fingers pinch your clit. Hard.
“Ah! N-no!” Your spine bends into such a pretty curve off the bed, perfectly in position for Choso to slide his massive palm underneath and massage away your tensely knotted back. Your fingers are trekking up the clamoring hike onto his broad deltoids to feel the droolworthy jolt of his back muscles. Babbling belatedly, “N-no other alpha has made me feel s-so…”
So…what?
Hypnotized? Addicted? Gone?
But whatever it was, the sight of you being ruined into a few shattered jumbles of limbs is enough to make Choso’s alpha hum.
Whispering out, “Can I…” And with a steep inhale of the thick surrounding air, he’s gulping. “C-can I-”
Before you’re gracing him with an answer, you’re helping inch those sleep shorts down. Snailing an almost-blasphemous slicked coat that seeps into your skin. He’s twirling his thumb over the remaining excess left behind - not wasting a single drop.
And it takes only one saturated hit from where your pheromones were the most concentrated - only one shy peak down at your drooling cunt - before Choso can feel his mind shattering. Gasping.
The top half of his body all but collapsing on top of yours.
It’s not even on purpose the way he flinches at the thick curve of your thumb floating upwards to tenderly glide away the swab of drool that was flooding Choso’s mouth right now.
His neat brows quirking upwards, heaving chest choppy - you’re so lustily trapped against the bumped-up planes of his pecs. Feeling the rumble of his heated words, “I-I’ve never…”
Sounding so utterly worn-out already, Choso’s planting a few firm pecks at the corner of your chin. He’d meant for it to reach your lips - but he couldn’t. Too in a trance to even think about it. And as if to make up for it, he’s kissing your neck, the valley of your thighs, your tummy. Every and any inch he hasn’t been blessed with reaching for the past few years.
Shuffling all the way until he was practically lips to lips with your sloshing pussy, eyeing down directly at the way your sloppy entrance was welcoming him with another fresh bout of clingy slick. Choso heaves in a long breath.
“Been waitin’ a looong time f’you, y’know? Can I make a mess?” Choso’s whining sweetly, greedy gaze still trained firmly downwards. Tenderly rubbing over your glossed-up folds, “Can I m-make you break?” And those grasping begs of his are barely even audible over the sheer squelching resonating from your slobbery pussy. Your jaw falls slack at how they only make Choso nod. “Y-you’re right- s-so right–”
Talking. And before you know it, the filthiest French kiss is being placed right on your cunt.
He’s not even hesitating, not even easing you into it - because Choso Kamo has waited so long for this. And he was going to have his fill.
“This is what y-you taste like- this good?” Dragging the very pointed tip of his pretty button nose down your plump clit, he’s smushing it in place with a firm kiss at the very edge of your snug hole. “Th-think this cute cunt can take my fuckin’ cock, beautiful?”
So fucking impatient.
You’re tangling one set of fingers into the stray strands of his hair, bucking up to drag a slow glide down the lower half of his pretty face.
And, usually, with an alpha you could be expected to be snapped at with a snarling command. An instruction to just stay put.
But Choso’s only letting his sharp jaw comfy against the silken sheets, head nuzzling drunkenly into your thighs when you’re pushing and pulling him as you please. Leveraging the vice-like grasp on his scalp to drive steady grinds just the way you like it.
Whining, “Need you so bad, baby–”
“Yeah- yeah, use me-” Choso snickers around a teasing bite against the fattened edge of one of your pussy lips. Sucking. “R-reach your pretty high on my face, omega- need you to cum all over me till I-I’m dripping.”
Fuck.
Was this really your nervous, sweet best friend? His words were so dirty, as if he didn’t even realize he was saying them. And they almost make you embarrassed. Shying way just an inch-
“Oh- no. No no no-” His words come buzzing around your clit, and with a final bite of his elongated canines, Choso’s frantic. He’s scrambling. He’s grasping his powerful arms to loop your thighs and dragging you to him like some ragdoll down the protestingly creaky bed. “S’gonna go to waste- can’t- can’t let it.”
And it’s only about then that you’re dredging up the courage to angle your head further downwards - immediately hit with the sinful sight of Choso in heaven between your limp legs.
His hair a disheveled curtain, eyes narrowed and smudged with eyeliner. Damply bleeding down onto the regal apples of his high cheekbones at the way your meady slick was reaching his blushing cheeks. It masks his coral pink lips, his jaw, his fucking chin.
So sopping wet that it’s forming a little puddle down below him that Choso could never even imagine being disgusted by. No, in fact, he was disappointed with himself for not lapping it up even sooner.
Pumpish lips jutting out in a pout, Choso’s pushing away the hair from his eyes sexily. “Wh-why are you runnin’ away- don’t run away, my girl.”
With a slight giggle, you’re veering your scent to tinge with something comforting. And oh, does it do the trick - because Choso’s eyes swoop downwards drunkenly. Almost closed, almost ruined, he’s huffing out a drawled-out mantra of your name, “Lock it.”
“Wh-what?” You’re choking out.
Soft palms massage gently down your legs, wrapping them around the back of his head. “Lock it.”
Oh.
That was a command, and it has your body pulling taut. Every sensory spot all down your skin screaming to obey - yet, this is something you would have done anyway. Ankles tying together, it’s jostling Choso’s hotly open mouth against your pussy so deeply that you wonder whether he doesn’t have to breathe.
Whether he doesn’t even want to.
Because your dear best friend looks so satisfied to die right in the heaven between your legs right now. And he would go such an utterly happy man, too.
Rosy red lips rubbing rawly against your clit, you’re left a puddle of a needy mess when the roughened tastebuds of his tongue swirl in meticulous little circles. Cheeks hollowing as he sucks, your whines can’t even be heard over the most oozy squelches.
“Heheh- she’s talkin’ back ta me-” Choso’s sputtering out peck after peck. In awe. “She’s talking. Th-think she wants ngh- more.”
More.
More, more, more.
Choso’s beginning to think that your dripping pussy’s speaking for himself with the way that’s exactly what he wants right now. Teasing the mushy outer lips of your puckered hole with his fat fingerpads, before bullying in. Inside.
You’re taking him so well - hips careening even further downwards when he’s feeding your greedy cunt with every long inch of his digits. Slow enough that you could count it - just about six, ringed inches all the way to his knuckles.
Shit- it’s so hot inside, as if your pretty pussy was practically melting around him. Molding to his every shape as Choso’s driveling swirling around in rummaging little stripes down your gummy walls. Slow. Slick.
Slender cylindrical intrusions that bump up deftly against your battered g-spots. The chilling stretch of his banded metal rings was too much. Your eager cunt is splattering out a pornographic little gush of your sweet, sweet juices all over again at the way he’s teasingly fondling over that magical spot.
“J-jus’ a little higher, baby–” you’re spewing out. Deprived.
And oh, Choso’s darkened eyes are practically lighting up. He doesn’t pull away from your bruised clit to answer - not even to breathe before vibrating out a keening, “Here?”
So desperate.
Even needier than you.
You’re blinking through large, globular tears that occupy the space behind your lids. Nodding, “A little more- jus- oh!”
And Choso didn’t need to hear it from your lips. Hell, he didn’t even need to hear it from the way your snug channel was all but milking his fingers dry. Clinging on in a soppy kiss when he’s probing into your g-spot harder. Meaner. Because the way your intoxicating scent changes - concentrating ever-so-slightly makes Choso realize that you’re cumming before even you register it.
Slamming headfirst into your high, you’re plowing out a belated cry of “I- fuck- m’cumming, Cho. M’cumming, m’cumming-”
Sparks of white splinter your vision, and your knees find themselves just wrenching free from the lecherous comforts of the bed - but Choso won’t let you escape so easily.
No.
Barely batting an eye, he’s straining his biceps deadlocked around your legs. Pinning you to the bed until you could barely squirm, barely do anything but take his punishing little clashes against your g-spot head-on. Bumping in. Over and over.
Choso suckles on your clit like his favorite little gummy, stretching and nibbling until you see stars with your orgasm.
“Don’t run away-” he’s puffing out into your cunt, the very idea of parting with drizzling pussy making him yelp out a pained grunt. “P-please don’t run away- I promised to make a mess. O-one more f’me, beautiful?”
You’re just molten at his touch. Ravenous and overwhelmingly greedy for you as much as you were for him. Something carnal inside you screaming for more-
“H-hear her?” His eyes are drifting closed at the pulpy little noises your cunt mashes on. Dangling ear piercings twinkling when he’s leering even closer to hear. “Tellin’ me she’s gonna give her- hngh- alpha one more.” Fuck, Choso’s features decorate with the most blazing blush at his own words. How embarrassing. “Wontcha use my mouth all over again? I didn’t get fuuuuck- messy ‘nough last time…”
And as if to prove his point, Choso traces a slow glide of his worked tongue across the sloppily wet coating that drips down his lips. Just for a second.
Your veins bubble sensitively with need at the broken whine sounding from the back of Choso’s throat when you drag him even snugger between your legs. Puffs of leaky pheromones driving the two of you wild, making your hips stutter out a slurring pace up and down his face.
“Th-this pussy is all f’me- isn’t it, my girl? S’all f’me?”
Even sloppier once you battle out a nod.
Your cunt is extra slobbery because of your heat anyways, but Choso’s making such a mess on purpose.
Eyes running away to the back of his head, tongue lolling out even messier. He’s planting such dousing draws of saliva, lathering your sweet spots mercilessly. And his fingers- oh, his fingers were relentless. Shovelling up in solid, wet nudges until you’re able to feel every circular indent of his digits on your g-spot.
Every run of his manicured nails across where you’re sure you were beginning to get bruised. And every-so-often whenever his eyes glaze green with raw greed - with slight, stupid jealousy over his fingers - you’d peek at Choso plunging his digits into his mouth and sucking.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Matching the lecherous sound of your thundering heartbeat, you can feel yourself squeal at the overstimulating touches. Sobbing out the cutest little whines that make Choso chuckle, “Easy– easy there, my girl.” Letting your cunt free with a sodden pwah! only to spit. Once. Twice. A sticky wad of his thick saliva that blusters its way to coat your puffy pussy lips, “You’re cumming again, right? A-all over my face?”
You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard, but that wasn’t enough for Choso Kamo.
He wasn’t satisfied until a slow pull of your clit right from between his pearly whites had you bawling out. The backs of your hands dipping upwards to hide your face - which he quickly, and calculatedly spanks away with his free hand. “M’gonna cum soon- ngh- please- Cho- don’ stop.”
Hah, if this was any other time then Choso might’ve laughed.
Might’ve teased you until you were begging for him in that cute voice once more. But maybe it’s the way his alpha was clawing at his chest from the insides to give you whatever you want, maybe it was the way seeing you fall apart on your heat like this all over him had his cock twitching-
Because Choso only smiles - drunk. Dazed. “Cum f’me, p-please. Ruin me, ma’am..”
He was ruined alright.
Absolutely sugar-coated with your overlaying juices - it’s dripping down his bed and disappearing into the now see-through fabric of his undershirt like a badge of honor. A badge to say that he’s made you cum for the second time on his mouth.
That he’s made you squirt.
Splattering out all over his face with every slurping taste - and yet, Choso still couldn’t get enough. Sweeping up the milky droplets, Choso’s boring his heady gaze right into your widened eyes when he’s leering his mouth agape to make you spy the way each splash slides down his throat.
God- you’re seeing white all over again. You’re seeing spots, having you gulp in necessary gasps of the soiled air to once more regain your steady heartpace.
“Ch-Choso-” you’re struggling, voice brittle and gone. Frantically trying to haul - to force - Choso from his favorite home between your cunt, to stop his greedy tongue. “S’enough- can’t cum anymore can’t- ngh-”
“But, beautiful–”
Shit- it would be so easy to get swept up all over again. Because Choso was parched, and he was still far from having his fill.
Words tinting with a slightly commanding tone, you’re making something dark and primal rear its head when you manhandle him upwards with one hand in his locks, and another on his undershirt. So heavy but pliant.
Up, up, up-
“Choso–” you’re mumbling out. And before you know it, Chosos hands had toppled you over into the cushiony mattress, and yours were tracing the edge of his too-tight boxers. Tugging. Needy. “I-I want these- off-”
“Anything.” He’s echoing, like it was all that he could right about now. Dewey brows scrunching up into something of a beg, you’re catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Deprived. “Anything f-for you-”
Fuck- in your currently woozy state you’re not sure if Choso removed his pants or if he ripped them off. Stumbling and tripping to let the few scarce tatters droop into the floor in a sullen pile.
With a gulp, your fingers skitter across the planes of his useless undershirt - letting his pretty, bulging muscles peek out at you from underneath when you slide them off of him. Palms smearing in gluttonous little touches across his push pecs, down his rippling abs, down that lusciously dark happy trail and oh-
“S-something the matter, beautiful?” Choso’s heaving in a struggling gulp at the way your gorgeous eyes widen, maw slacking into a soft oh! Head tilting innocently, “M’your hah- best friend, you can tell me a-anythin’.”
“You’re just so…” Comes the whirling answer, your voice slow and alcoholic. He was getting drunk on your words already. “...big.”
Not only was Choso big - he was massive.
The fat, rotund circle of his head ruddied a strawberry pink, gradiating all the way down his shaft to meet blend into his creamy base. He was so hard that it looked painful, visibly throb! throb! throbbing, bumpy lightning bolts of his veins hammering up at you cheekily. He was so pretty - thick enough that you’re feeling your cunt clench already. Even the burn of your stare has Choso’s reddish divot weeping out a few ropey spurts of pre. Making you dizzy with the incredible size and that musky vanilla scent of his.
And was that-
Oh. Fuck.
It was.
Through the honeyed slew of precum pooling at Choso’s thick tip, you’re gasping at the slight wink of something metallic.
Without thinking - without even breathing - you’re drifting your hand down to thumb those syrupy globules thin. Discovering the absolute treasure chest that was a studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the weepy edge of Choso’s shaft.
“I got if for- you- Gotta a-another one, y’know-” His gentle rasp jolts you out of your sinful reverie, engulfing hands guiding your own to wrap around his flushed tip and peek under. Right on the slippery sliver of his slit, “A ngh- matching one. Th-thought you might like it…”
Oh- two.
And, embarrassingly, you can feel the way your scent turns headier. Hypnotizing. Enough so that Choso can’t help the way he’s hanging by a bare thread, head falling into the crook of your neck to breathe in. “Y-you act so innocent but…”
“But m’only l-like this for you.” He’s tucking your tender earlobe between his teeth. “P-promise. I haven’t even…”
Ah, a virgin.
Sweet and absolutely gifted.
And something about it was so cute the way Choso was acting exactly like it. Every wordless toy of your fingers up and down his sensitive glans, making him snarl a lipbite. Girthy length fucking up in shuddering slams into the cushiony tunnel of your palm. Weightily muscled abs flexing with heat when you’re running a thumb under his head to press down on that silver piercing.
“S-so tiny- heh- your pretty hands are so tiny takin’ my cock, beautiful.” he’s giggling - giggling. Perspiration-simmered forehead knocking into yours, Choso’s letting his tired head loll there and bore into your eyes. “You needa ngh- fuck! Needa slow down, my girl, m’already so close jus’ from making out with yer sweet c-cunt out.” Already close. Just from eating you out. “Else m’n-not gonna be able to control it-”
“I can handle it–” you’re pouting stubbornly. Soft digits clenching even tighter around his cock, and shit, Choso lets his head fall into the junction between your shoulder and your neck.
Finding himself growing more needy. More feral. Tight, hot curdling in his stomach building up and up.
“M’serious.” His lilting voice breaks, teeth skimming over the pulpy flesh of your sweetened pheromone glands. Nibbling. His incredibly shaky fingers wrap around your shoulders, “Please- ngh- please m’gonna break ya.”
And it’s like you wanted him to.
Dick twitching at those filthy fingers of yours - the way they only pump him faster. And faster. Tighter around the hefty base, more teasing up the slippery slope of his tip - like you were trying to milk out something delicious.
And you can already feel the way your mouth lathers with a fresh coating of saliva, face inching closer and closer to the bawling peak of his swollen cock. Wanting oh-so-badly to taste the silver of his Prince Albert’s.
“But I want you to, Cho.”
SMACK!
You’re left stupidly stunned when Choso’s behemoth palm coils like a tight shackle around your tender throat. Pulling you away from his achy cock in a flash, you’re being thrown around like his own personal ragdoll.
And Choso snickers at the way you’re bouncing cutely on the plush mattress, legs drooping wider and wider agape with every sleazy second he really can’t help but leer over you. Wrangling those boneless legs of yours over his shoulder with a sharp click of his tongue.
“I-I already told you, beautiful–” he’s bending down, down down to nose along your sweat-dotted cheeks, your skin stark hot against the icy chain of his silver necklace. Chest grumbling with a slight purr. “M’gonna make such a mess of you- can I?”
And that drunken look in Choso’s eyes made him look like he would absolutely shatter if you let your lips shape into a teasing no right about now. Like those warm, salted tears spattering from the corners of his half-lidded eyes and right onto your cheeks would only hasten.
“Can I- please, my girl- jus’ wanna-” His lips wobble adorably when his sobbing cock glides a slow line between the mushy lips of your pussy. A graze for a graze of his mouth down your own. “-wanna make you mine.”
And just the tip - just a single fat inch shoved into your gummy hole is all it takes for Choso to whimper.
You’re brushing over his precious cheek, “Ch-Cho, are you okay?”
And Choso can’t answer - hell, he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. Because that gushing little clench of your clingy walls all around his sodden wet tip absolutely ruins him. Delicate rivulets of slobber streaming down the smiling edges of his tongue, he’s puffing out an open-mouthed, “No- fuck- d-do I look okay?”
He didn’t.
He seemed like he was burning up - fucked-out already, practically. Pecs rippling with a bolting flex, muscled body shirking with violent shivers when with a low keen of your name - Choso’s cumming.
“No-” he’s crying out, head flailing backwards. Just from putting it inside for the first time. “No no no no- m’not s’pposed to- yet-”
But he was. Hips recklessly meandering again and again into yours - slight, tugging grinds of just his thickened tip like Choso was afraid of sinking into your heavenly pussy anymore. Like he knew it would break him even more.
Have him flooding out voluminous ribbons of thick seed, splattering against your spongy channel, and smearing around in dripping vertical patterns with every one of his animalistic ruts.
“Give it t’me–” you’re locking your ankles even tighter. Prattling out such filthy nonsense that you’re sure you’d get embarrassed about had you not been in your heat. “I-I need your cum, baby- wan’ it allll inside me-”
“Ngh-” Choso’s letting off a broken sound at the back of his throat, squeezing your own with that one hand of his happily making its home there. Blocking off your airway, your heady pheromones only struggle to waft out even more. Saturating. “D-don’t talk like that- n-not outta ya pussy, beautiful.”
“But I w-ngh! want it-”
He gulps, “A-are you sure?” Because this is his best friend - this is the one person he’d never even dreamt of having because that was too dangerous. Too fanciful. The one person he’d written about in every diary, and gotten teased for it by his family just the same. Perfect.
Yet, you’re so stubborn when you’re in heat. “Mhm– wan’ you to…breed me.”
And he loved it.
Couldn’t get enough of it - or you.
Choso’s scrambling up one of his jostling hands to latch your hips into a perfect almost-semicircle. Lower lip worried underneath his canines when he’s wiping his fat thumb over the dewdrops of seed treacling from your soppy slit.
That digit finds its way rummaging between your lips, “Lock it.”
This time, you don’t need it said twice - you don’t even need it to be a command.
Because Choso’s reigning up his own hand to pin both your ankles behind his head, and you think you’ll forever remember just how hot he looked this way. Biceps bulging with the strain, simmering with a slick sheen of perspiration, and his hips-
Oh, it’s like any and every slip of restraint in Choso’s hulking body snapped.
Because with a loud, saturated squelch! you’re being filled up to what it feels like your lungs with every solid inch of his engorged girth. Inflating your tender insides, buttering your poor cervix with a thick stream of pre when he’s kissing it with a wet thwack!
“Oh- oh.” Choso’s head pushes into the crook of your neck, into your pillow until you were sure that it was soaked with tears of absolute bliss. “Th-this feels nothing l-like my ngh- hand. S’so much more heavenly-”
Yet, you weren’t in the right state of mind to be paying attention to the utter filth that was spilling from your innocent best friend’s mouth. Breath choking up in a lead ball in your throat, you whisper, “Ch-Cho…s’that your knot?”
Your slicked-up folds puckering up in a wet snog against the overinflated ring ballooning around his thick base. The sheer thumping circumference of it makes you squeeze-
“Y-yes–” he’s humming out. The sodden base of his cock thwack! thwack! thwacking your bruising entrance when he’s rutting in and out. Sloppy. Slow. Still trying not to see stars. “God- s’even softer than I ngh- imagined.”
And soft you were.
This is what your sweet pussy felt like? This good? This should be fucking illegal, he was babbling out - but wouldn’t realize until much, much later.
Being spearheaded open with every unapologetic rifle to fill you up, the leftover dredges of Choso’s seed trickle a slippery pathway leading him to ambush your g-spot head on. Stubbing his cool metal piercing into your sweetened bullseyes so hard, you swear you could feel the indenting divot of that sinful Prince Albert’s.
“There?” Mesmerized, his eyes grow wide. “R-right there?”
And he’s hot - so feverish.
Glissading body on top of yours burning up with radiating heat, fracturing our rationality just as much as the sweet vanilla scent of his pheromones were. That tiny heart friendship charm on his necklace hitting your collarbones in a dirty staccato.
You can feel yourself start to drool with how stupid Choso’s cock was fucking you, curling a few neat raking lines down his statuesquely muscled back. It makes him just arch his cock even deeper to jostle your snug insides riotously.
“I-imagined about me a lot?” Ah, you’re finding it in yourself to smirk.
Something that Choso’s jackhammering out in quick, increasingly sloppy juts of his hips. Slathering the entirety of his cock with your slicked juices.
“O-of course.” He’s shifting his eyes gingerly away from yours with a boyish blush. But now that Choso had started talking, he couldn’t stop. “Always wan’ed to f-fuck you through a rut or h-heat like this- to-” Couldn’t keep from hiking up a flattened foot to angle his pierced cockhead into every untouched inch inside you. The special upright curve of his shaft driving you mad. “-to absolutely ruin you and-” The hand at your legs hover right over where he was plummeting your insides with gluey kisses - your womb. “-and make you mine. Ours.”
Ours.
God, just the mere act of confessing those embarrassing little words had Choso’s hulking body practically melting into yours.
It’s like his abs were made of adhesive, massaging up and down your front. Drowning you into the plethora of wrecked sheets and him when he’s collapsing on top of you - but still going. Still placing pound after pound.
“I-I want that too-” And you think you hear Choso sharply gasp, but you can’t confirm over your popping ears. “Always wanted it- ah- wanted you to fuck a baby into me, Cho.”
SLAM!
The slowly-splintering bedframe creaks when one particularly harsh rut has the headboard slamming into the wall behind.
And that’s all he needed to hear.
A baby - he wants a baby. He needs one - and this wasn’t just his alpha talking - and he was going to get it.
All that Choso thinks he ever could hear all through his honeyed mind for the rest of his life. Replaying it over and over in his mind like his favorite catchy tune.
You don’t miss the way that he looks so in love above you, gaze practically heart-eyed and gone. Choso’s raw, swollen lips meteor shower your face with peck after peck - just in time with the collisions of his rounded tip into your sweet spots.
“Boy or girl?”
“H-huh?” you’re questioning, barely-lucidly.
“Boy or girl.”
And after those senseless little answers are falling from your lips, Choso’s brushing a hand over your lower tummy. Pushing. Hard. Until his twitchy knot was covered in buttery residues of cum, “Ah- a-always wan’ed a daughter with ya first. With your c-cute smile and ngh- eyes.”
Huffing out an embarrassed, “Choso.”
And he’s only scooping back in the leaky sediments of seed that he’s responsible for making a mess of. Turning a slow thumb right over your tight ring of muscle, “Gonna have my- ngh- style of course, heh- you’d be the best momma. D-don’t care if you’re my best friend, m’gonna breed ya until you’re overspilling, beautiful.”
You needed it so badly. Your heat turning up a notch until it felt like you were boiling from the inside out, candied scent drifting more.
He’s giggling out, dark lashes batting without his permission. “M’gonna- ngh- take care of you-”. The hand caressing your elastic entrance flies upwards to get cleaned off by his own tongue - before prying your jaw sagging open to spit. “Goood fuckin’ care. N’ hopefully you’ll end up p-pregnant…hopefully.”
He’s encircling the dip in your waist and dragging you forwards to smack against his washboard abs. Unable to squirm. Unable to run away. “Gonna be the p-prettiest momma- the ngh- most beautiful.” Other hand restricting your throat so cozily that your vision tinges with black, “Gonna be mine.”
And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words in mind.
The way your sopping walls were milking him for all he’s worth - so greedily - shoving Choso to tip over the edge, too.
Choso’s letting his body sexily cave into yours, not breaking even a mere inch apart when he’s got you trapped and overfilled with every dollop of his cum icing your insides. And right now you could already feel the way your scents were mixing, the way Choso turns slightly cross-eyed-
Before sharply turning to your glands and biting.
Hard.
His predatory canines break through your epidermis layer like butter, a crimson lipstain gushing from the wound and staining his lips a handsome rouge.
And - only belatedly, once your omega’s snapping at you with her teeth bared - do you realize that it’s your turn to do the same. As if you would want any other.
Locking your jaw to dig into his pale, dampish throat, Choso sucks in his cheek to muffle the slightest whine when you’re wringing him through every speck of bliss he could possibly ever feel in a lifetime. Furious cock stuttering out a few more lazy wisps of cum at the mingling feeling of finally being yours.
“Not ‘nough-” He’s eyeing the leftover ring of cum painting his knot, “Can I fill ya up m-more? Please? Please- my girl.”
You’re pulling away with a woozy nod to rub your thumb over the dug indents of your teeth, gently soothing slow circles over the feral sting.
Filling you up over and over with each pound, he’s fucking you into the mattress like he hates you. And he’s fucking you like every shuddering ram had a creamy ounce of cum pouring into your gummy walls. Glueing in wet splats against your g-spot, your cervix, like a second sloppy skin.
Generous helpings of cum drifting into almost blanks-
“Heh- haaaah- y’know tha’s makin’ me still c-cum, beautiful.” Choso’s leaving sodden kisses on your own mark, your lips. “M’sorry m’sorry I- I can’t stop- I just- can’t.”
And it’s sheer animal nature in you that’s screaming at you that you don’t want him to stop until you’re sure it takes. That’s bending down a hand as much as deftly as possible to wrap around Choso’s slightly softening cock - that only tuts in impatience.
“Wh-when I said inside-” You’re pumping his soaked base as much as possible, feeling the stiffening twitch at his tip buried inside you. “-I mean- inside-”
It’s like you’re being split-apart - like you couldn’t be any fuller if you tried.
And, yet, only the very curvaceous top of Choso’s inflated knot had bullied its way in-between your lewdly stretched hole. Gaping a pathway so incredibly girthy that it makes you scrunch your brows, head tumbling backwards.
“Oh- oh, my greedy, greedy girl.” But Choso doesn’t look one bit admonishing - not one bit. Slithering a hand down to your cunt, he’s steamrolling two thick pads of his fingers. Rubbing up against your squeamish walls, scissoring your tight entrance so amply open. “I can put it…inside. R-really, really inside?”
Oh, Choso doesn’t know what blessings he’s received in his past lives. But absolutely nothing could have prepared him for how swelteringly hot and cushy you were around his fat knot.
Swallowing up the bulging circlet, plugging up your seeping slit safely so that you’re not spilling a single glutinous splotch of his cum. So that it will take. It’s such a tight fit. Such a burning stretch. You felt so full you could burst with every throb of his swollen knot probing your walls.
Ah, you look so pretty this way.
And Choso’s half-wishing he had a camera to capture this moment. With his lips pressing a few syrupy kisses along every inch of skin he could reach. Somewhere near your tummy - so full and slightly inflated with the copious amounts of cum that were dumped inside you.
He’s murmuring something drunken - something you probably weren’t even supposed to hear. But at the curious tilt of your head, your best friend chews over his lips nervously.
And a giddy smile plasters across your face at the saccharine love in your best friend’s eyes - the way he was probably mulling over asking you out on a date. There was no turning back at this point, and your omega purred in agreement as you got ready to say yes. For him to say a sweetened-
“Marry me.”
A/N. You show up at the next Itadori family dinner with a ring and Sukuna has an actual heart attack.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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Four Keys: Skhadu (Shadow)
Other Characters: Buwe - Flicker
So I'm gonna be real guys I am filled with guilt that I have not posted their lore and stories, I'm just too much of a perfectionist so I'm just gonna ramble like I'm talking to a friend so I can get all of this out
Tw for child abuse, but its not descriptive its just part of his story
So Skhadu is an illegitimate prince of the draconic people in this fantasy world. He hates his father (Ganondorf <3) and his fathers Advisor/Mage (Vaati <3) even more!
He hates not having real power but still being forced into doing crap for everyone and then not even having the freedom to make his own choices.
Hes kinda been forced into this enforcer role, where he kinda has to terrorize anyone trying to plan some rebellion or coup or whatever. There's a lot of issues especially with the Kings great hibernation coming and the rumor of their only valid heir, Skhadu's half sister, being extremely ill. Like "Oh hey I might die" ill.
She would be the one with the crown and guardianship of their fathers Realm (kingdom wise and centuries nap wise). So if she's out for the picture, or at least weak, then that leaves alot of room for plenty of others to take a chance at power.
Point is though, Skhadu still has to attend stffy formal events, be constantly controlled so he doesnt "Embarrass the crown even more", and train to just do whatever everyone else orders him to do. The training is very brutal, and with Vaati being the one teaching him his magics? No very fun...
Not to mention he's constantly disrespected and humiliated, he has no choice, no freedom... just occasionally pity. It's what his father said preventing him from being killed.
So Skhadu runs away. He's still a prince. Just a Prince of Theives now. Or that's what he proclaims anyways.
He wants to make as much money as possible with as much chaos and fun as he wants thank you very much! Get real power on his own! Cause as much chaos and destruction however HE wants to! Not worry about responsibilities or appearances! Or Vaati threatening to lock him in a cage for two weeks without any food again! Adventure! maybe a girlfriend! Freedom! Money!! That he can actually use!!!
He even has the skills for it too- All his years stealing, sneaking, and fighting Vaati has payed off! And he's not only read about plenty of techniques, he's even learnt from other thieves<3 he's definitely found his place
SURPRISE: The heir, his half sister, really is ill. Fatally. He is the next best thing to an heir they have. The closet thing to keeping power in the family. They'll offer him whatever he wants if he comes back.
Skhadu does not want to come back. He finally got real freedom. Real happiness. He understands how much the "power" he'd get is just a lie. He's not interested. Responsibilities are gross. He'll live in secret and have an AWESOME time doing that thank you very much. The colorfully worded letter containing his own scales proves that.
So the manhunt ensues. He'll never be caught- Hes too smart, too clever-The crumbling Kingdom can suck it and figure out their own issues! Not force him to! Hed rather end up in a jailhouse again than being publically executioned whenever a new coup shows up.
Or just live in hell being nothing but Vaati's puppet. He knows he can't run away forever though.
Buuuuuuut, something does catch his eyes...
There's some little haggle of misfit adventurers looking for some "triforce" artifact or whatever. Something about "finding the sacred keys" or some crap. It sounds like a bunch of guys high of fairy dust believing in some folk tale, but Skhadu knows better. Because he knows that's what his father was searching for. To restore the power of their kingdom, and become a god. Skhadu had just thought he was a madman. But with the evidence he's seeing... Maybe Ganondorf is not.
It's supposed to take the energy of one's soul and mix it with their greatest desire. Fueled by the raw magic of the elements, their wildest dreams can come true... Even defeating death.
Its.. probably an exaggeration, but based on the actual viable magical documents, it does seem entirely possible he could use it to save his sister. He's NOT doing it because he "cares" about her or whatever. Shes stuck up and overly perfect! Skhadu is just doing it for his own interest, its a dog eat dog world afterall. If she can be the heir then they'll stop hunting him, and he'll be free!
Besides, those adventurers or whatever? They're a bunch of saps, it'' be super easy to trick them! He'll just let them do all the hard work and steal it from them at the very end! Yes, yes, he IS a genius, and a very handsome one at that.
Sure he'd be a traitor to the throne and his new "friends", but really, what's one more lie to the pile?
#four keys#my art#my au#four swords#fs#shadow link#fs shadow#four swords shadow#fs art#four swords art#four swords manga#four keys shadow
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Btw these stats don’t reflect like the general population or even other members of the secret service, this polycule is op as fuck
the stats of the four person love square in my latest au
#I’ve got a wip in the works#where I draw the stats of the rest of the crew#or at least some of the key members#and it’s much more modest#these four are freaks of nature#tinker tailor sailor spy au
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After the end - Post-apocalyptic Omegaverse AU
Summary - You missed the end of the world. Fine by you. You thrived in your new surroundings, content to be on your own. Until something happens during your third winter.
Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. Uh... This came to me in a fever dream. Consider this a prologue. 141 x reader
You think you're pretty lucky all things considered. You had always been self sufficient and your childhood gave you skills you were able to call on after the entire world shat itself. To be honest, you hadn't even noticed the world had completely gone to ruin until you tried to call your pharmacy to refill your heat and scent suppressants.
The line was dead. So you called the grocery store. Dead. The movie theater, the diner, the post office. Dead dead dead. Panic seized you by the throat and you dropped your home phone onto the ground. You splashed cold water onto your face and looked into the mirror with puffy eyes and shaking hands.
What were you going to do? The world couldn't have ended. Right? You should have noticed sooner. "Fuck," you said, pulling on your shoes and grabbed your car keys, you got into your car, "fuck!"
As it turns out, you did in fact miss the ending of the world. You yelled obscenities and banged on your steering wheel. The entire small town you lived near was deserted. Windows were boarded up and cars were parked by the road with tires missing or windows smashed in.
You missed the entire end of the world.
As it turns out, the end of the world wasn't that bad. Nothing really changed. Well besides the rarity of getting your hands on heat suppressants and scent blockers. The first week after you finally got caught up on the whole "the world has ended" thing you raided.
You avoided using your car after you got a mild scare that someone else had been attracted to the noise. Hiding in the very smelly gas station bathroom while you listened to the sound of boots crunching on glass was enough to teach you that lesson.
You tore apart the pharmacy the first week, finding what had to be at least four months worth of scent blockers and nine months of heat suppressants. You took everything you deemed useful and stuffed it into your backpack before hiking back home.
You set up a routine, patrol the forest edge twice a day, care for your garden and check any trap for animals to eat. Self sufficiency had never been such a blessing.
It was the middle of winter three years later when you first saw them.
Men. No, not just men. Alphas. Their scent almost made your knees buckle when you smelt it down wind. For a moment your mind went hazy as their smells flooded your mind until that part of your brain that had been responsible for your survival kicked back in.
Alphas. In your territory. Your territory. It felt like a crime and you felt your inner omegas turmoil. As you watched the four men walk down the road that led into town through your binoculars you debated on what you should do. Run, flee while you are down wind. With shaky hands, whether from the cold or fear you didn't know, you climbed down from the perch you were on and sprinted back home while doing your best to cover your own tracks.
You went in circles, outside in the cold long past when your hands and feet had gone cold. But you were sure they couldn't follow. You were sure they didn't even know you were there.
Three years. You had been off of heat suppressants and scent blockers for years. After a while your heats had stopped coming, whether it was from lack of sleep or stress or some evolutionary thing that happened when no one to mate was around, the bottom line was that you were unprepared.
You boarded up your door and threw water on your fire. You grabbed every blanket in the house and ran into your bedroom. At first you did it for warmth. If you were going to hide you couldn't have fire to give out smoke and you needed to be warm.
Then you continued to mess with the blankets and pillows. You huffed, growing increasingly frustrated at your inability to get it right. You grabbed your laundry and threw it in too, arranged and rearranged until it felt right. It wasn't until you took a step back that you realized what you had done. Something you haven't in years. Before you was a nest. Large enough to fit many in it. Maybe even five. You swallowed hard as your fingers dug into your stomach. It was going to be a long winter.
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#simon riley x reader#mw2 smut#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john mactavish x simon riley#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#gaz call of duty#gaz x soap#gaz x female reader#gaz x you#pricegaz#soapgaz#poly fic#omega!reader#omegaverse#alpha!141#alpha!ghost#alpha!price#alpha!soap#alpha!gaz
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the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant
kinktober, day twenty-five
a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!
polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”
warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal
word count: 7400
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024
It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do.
The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack.
To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family.
“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.
“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park.
You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy.
Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly.
As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.
“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?”
“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”
The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky.
As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.
“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them.
“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.”
“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode.
Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house.
However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear.
At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack.
“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.
“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”
But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”
Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”
“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”
“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.”
Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same.
Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend.
“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!”
As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”
“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape.
“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”
“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted.
“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”
“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”
“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.
“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”
“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”
“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him.
“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”
“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls.
“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”
Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.”
“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin.
“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody.
“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end.
Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music.
During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched.
Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade.
Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips.
“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”
You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself.
Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it.
When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips.
“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?”
Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”
From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?”
“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair.
“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”
Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.
“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard.
“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”
“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.”
“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.
“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand.
“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!”
With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.”
Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?”
“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?”
“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.”
“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”
“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs.
His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours.
Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening.
The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present.
As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–”
Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.”
Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–”
“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?”
“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”
“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…”
“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.”
“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.
“Of course I do, I just–”
“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals.
Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him.
“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together.
“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”
You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut.
However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside.
“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch.
“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”
As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.
“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”
As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.
“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth.
“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.”
“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head.
“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”
Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…”
“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?”
“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him.
In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in.
“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”
“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”
It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.
“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!”
“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.
“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy.
“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”
“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.
When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side.
As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you.
The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared.
“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles.
“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.”
Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room.
You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame.
As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”
But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.
“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice.
Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”
Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!”
As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”
“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down.
“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”
“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.”
With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”
“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?”
“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”
“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder.
“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”
Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?”
“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”
So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes.
Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.
“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold.
But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”
Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside.
“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”
“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”
Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.”
“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.”
And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.
You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet.
“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well.
“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him.
Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”
“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.”
Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.”
“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness.
You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.
You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within.
Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head.
Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life.
“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–”
As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway.
For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you.
You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh.
“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop.
As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it.
In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative.
But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth.
“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend.
“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”
“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”
A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs.
“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…”
“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?”
“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?”
Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”
“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”
“They were my family!”
“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out.
When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room.
“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.”
Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.”
As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.
“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”
“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk.
“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.”
“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”
You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin.
“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…”
As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air.
“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”
His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy.
When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely.
As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.”
As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”
“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”
“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek.
“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold.
“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”
Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms.
“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock.
“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you.
“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”
“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”
“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”
“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…”
“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”
He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”
“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth.
“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”
“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock.
“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.”
“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”
“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.”
“I can’t–”
“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”
“Rafe–”
“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum.
Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole.
“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#kinktober#kinktober 2024#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#drew starkey smut#dark!rafe cameron x reader#perv!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron smut#ghostface!rafe#ghostface!rafe cameron#perv!rafe#slasher!rafe#slasher!rafe cameron#decide my 2024 kinktober fic!
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